Vive le Rocket!

Canadians have learned to be fond of the imported games of football and baseball, but their first love is their own game: ice hockey. Much of .that love is lavished on one star: French Canadian Maurice ("the Rocket") Richard, the best professional player on skates--and the man with the hottest temper.

Just about the only record that has eluded the Rocket in his 13-year career with Les Canadiens is the single-season point-scoring championship (which includes points for both goals and assists). This season, with only three games left, that final honor seemed to be his. Then last week, in a game against the Boston Bruins, Rocket Richard exploded into one of the most splendid flare-ups of his career. Clipped in the head by Boston Forward Hal Laycoe's high-swinging stick, the Rocket hardly bothered to brush the blood out of his eyes before he flattened Laycoe. He also managed to give Linesman Cliff Thompson a poke in the eye.

Put out of the game, the Rocket went to a Montreal hospital to be patched up. Then he appeared at National Hockey League headquarters to explain his conduct to President Clarence Campbell. This time, Campbell decided, a fine was not punishment enough for the man who holds the record for fines paid in the N.H.L. He suspended the Rocket for the rest of the season, forbade him to play in the Stanley Cup Games as well.

A Matter of Honor. To the Rocket's fans, the sentence was intolerable. The kindest words they had for Campbell were profane assurances that he did not have long to live. The league president got so many threats that it became a matter of honor for him to appear in the Montreal Forum next evening when the Rocketless Canadiens took on the Detroit Red Wings.

All afternoon, tension built up in the city (pop. 1,046,000). Gangs of young hoodlums bought standing-room tickets and packed the Forum galleries. As the disorganized Canadiens began to boot away the game, the mob's mood blackened. Campbell's cocky arrival, just before the first period ended (with Les Canadiens behind, 2-0), touched off a barrage of peanuts, rotten fruit, galoshes and programs. One spectator pushed past Campbell's police guard and walloped him twice across the face.

A Mob of Hoodlums. Riot was just a breath away when someone touched off a tear-gas bomb. Blinded, and choking on the thick smoke, spectators groped their way out of the Forum. Outside, the mob grew. Some 8,000 strong, it flowed down St. Catherine Street, blocked traffic and cheered when a truckload of kids shouted "Vive le Rocket!" Soon the hoodlums took over. Rocks arched through the yellow haze of street lights and store windows shattered. Jewelry shops were looted. Streetcars took a pasting. It was 2:30 a.m. before the Montreal cops had the city back under control.

Then, people who took the trouble to ask discovered that Campbell had awarded the game to the Red Wings, and Les Canadiens had been knocked out of the league lead. As for Rocket Richard, he had watched the game and the start of the riot from a box seat. Next day he appeared on radio and TV, to make an appeal for calm in both French and English. He would take his punishment, the Rocket said, and he would be back next year.

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