It was exactly 39 years ago today –- Saturday December 26, 1970 –- that I received the greatest Christmas gift of my life. I was 7 years old and the day before, as Christmas presents were being unwrapped, I had been handed a pair of tickets …to Maple Leaf Gardens, to see my first hockey game! My father would take me. And not only was this to be my first NHL game, it would be my dad's first game as well. That's because less than three years earlier, my Dutch parents had packed up four suitcases, my sister, my little self and our dog Milly and they bravely immigrated to Canada from Holland where hockey was entirely unknown at that time. And like so many immigrants to Canada, both my father and my young self instantly took to this fast and furious sport played on ice throughout this country. And so, by December of 1970, I had already signed up for minor hockey, was a fan of the great Toronto Maple Leafs and their classy captain Dave Keon.

So that 1970 night, I climbed into my father's beat-up old blue LTD sedan with its cold bench seat, and together, father and son, we made the highway trek from suburban Clarkson and into the heart of the big city. And in my mind, Maple Leaf Gardens truly was the HEART of the city –- its golden yellow bricks, awash in floodlights, with thousands and thousands of folks converging upon it, all come to worship at the altar of hockey's greatest shrine. And to call Maple Leaf Gardens a shrine was entirely appropriate. Because as my father led me into the building –- with all those old black and white portraits of past Leaf greats hanging on its wall –- well, a feeling of true reverence filled me. I was unusually quiet as we rode those single-file escalators up and up and up until we could go up no further. The tickets were Greys -- the nosebleeds, not that I cared one lousy bit. I was in the building! That actual building where my hockey heroes played -- where Davey Keon played!

Stepping off that final escalator, my dad and I were directed past some curtains, and up a dark walkway, into the arena itself -– and I was suddenly awed beyond belief!!! What I saw took my breath away! It was the colours! Under those bright TV lights, the colours were lit up like I'd never seen colours lit up before! So bright! The whiteness of the ice, the vibrancy of the redline, of the blueline and of the players' uniforms. You see, my immigrant parents could not yet afford a colour TV back then. So, aside from the photos on my hockey cards, I'd never seen the blue and white Leaf uniforms in colour. Oh, man! The feelings of reverence that filled me at that moment were so powerful, I can still feel their echoes stirring within me today, 39 years later.

As the game started, my sense of awe would further heighten when I saw those big hockey players flying around that ice with a speed I had never imagined. And I was struck by sounds as well -- the crunching of the ice beneath sharpened blades, the crisp slapping sound of the puck as it passed from stick to stick -- the shouts and calls made by the players themselves as they warned each other of pending hits or open men. It was just the most amazing thing I'd ever witnessed in my young life.

The Leaf's opponents that night were the Philadelphia Flyers. Not a great team, but they were starting to put the pieces in place for their ugly mini-dynasty of the mid-70s known as the Broad Street Bullies. But on December 26th, 1970, the Flyers were in tough against my beloved Toronto Maple Leafs. And it didn't take long before me and my dad and 16,000-plus other fans jumped to our feet to cheer the first Leaf goal! It's a memory that is firmly pinned in my mind and in my heart. My father on my left, standing beside me, his arms raised like a football ref signaling a touchdown, going "Ho-oy-y!" (which was more of a Dutch soccer cheer than a hockey cheer, not that it mattered). I had never actually seen my dad cheer a goal, or anything else for that matter, before that moment. But there he was, on his feet, arms raised, just like his seven-year-old son beside him. Talk about a bonding moment! I still get chills. And I still smile as I recall all this, knowing that my dad and I would rise to our feet to cheer a Leaf goal many more times that particular night. (More on that later.)

I don't recall who scored that first goal. In fact, I don't actually recall who scored any of the game's goals. My memories of that night have more to do with my reactions to this amazing experience, than to the details of the events triggering those reactions. But aside from cheering along side of my dad, I do have one other very distinct recollection of that magical evening.

At one point, during a line change, the red-lettered ticker boards high up on each end of the Gardens scrolled out, "TODAY IS NORM ULLMAN''S 35th BIRTHDAY". As the message scrolled, the organ started playing "Happy Birthday". And I so clearly remember joining thousands of other fans, singing Happy Birthday to Norm Ullman! I even recall thinking, as any seven-year-old might, ‘Gee, Norm Ullman was born on Boxing Day, one day after the truly big day of Christmas. One day late so to speak and, I felt kind of sorry for him, figuring, as Ullman grew up he probably never received quite as many presents as most kids get for their birthday, plus, he'd have to wait a full year before getting any more presents.

Now, about Norman Ullman -– he of the Boxing Day birthday -- his is a name that rarely gets mentioned, if at all, when hockey greats are discussed. Somehow, through no fault of his own, Norm Ullman never quite became a true ‘star' of the game. Not really. He wasn't an explosive or flashy player. Instead, Norm Ullman was smooth and effective. Very effective. But his career timing was, well, off.

As a young player, he broke into the Detroit Red Wing lineup in the mid-fifties, one season after they had won what would be the final Stanley Cup of their early-50s dynasty. And Gordie Howe and Ted Lindsay had already established themselves as the fan favorites with the Red Wings. So despite Norm Ullman's great seasons there, often centring these two superstars, he always played in their shadow. -- And while Ullman was quietly establishing himself as a great NHL centre, posting impressive goal and point totals, over in Chicago, Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita were hitting their prime and starting to light up scoreboards on a regular basis. And over in Montreal, the highly-gifted and ultra-classy Jean Beliveau was centring an aging Rocket Richard and leading his Habs to five straight Cups. So Norm Ullman never really became a NHL superstar in Detroit -- nor did he win a Stanley Cup there.

Then Norm Ullman got traded –- to the Toronto Maple Leafs –- but he arrived in Toronto in 1968, one year after they'd won the final Cup of their mid-sixties dynasty. And by then, Dave Keon had rightfully won over the fans and was the much-worshipped fan favorite of the city. So again, through no fault of his own, Norm Ullman –- he of the Boxing Day birthday –- had shown up just a little too late.

So you won't find the name "Norman Ullman" engraved on the Stanley Cup. He never won it. Not once. Nor did he win any individual trophies. Not a single one. But by the time this classy and gifted NHL centre retired in 1975, he had amassed 490 goals, 739 assists and 1229 points. At the time, this represented the FOURTH HIGHEST POINT TOTAL in NHL HISTORY! Norm Ullman had even finished with more points than career contemporaries and true hockey legends Bobby Hull and Jean Beliveau. Yet, when discussing NHL Legends, the name Ullman is so rarely, if ever, uttered.

But back to me and thousands of other Leaf fans, singing Happy Birthday to Ullman on that final Saturday night of 1970… I have to be honest here -- as I sang that night, I thought, this would be better if it was Dave Keon's birthday, instead. You see, back in those days, my respect for Norm Ullman was a begrudging one. It kinda bugged me that Ullman, and not Dave Keon, centred the Leaf's number one scoring line (playing with Paul Henderson and Ron Ellis). It kinda bugged me that it was Norm Ullman who led the Leaf's power-play unit and was a constant threat to lead the Leafs in scoring, instead of Dave Keon. So I found reasons, back then, to not like Ullman. Or at least, not to like him as quite much as David Keon. ‘He was too old' I'd tell myself (only two years younger than my dad, and they even shared the same receding hairline.) And I'd think, ‘if Dave Keon had Henderson and Ellis as his linemates, he'd lead the league in scoring.' But don't get me wrong, if Ullman scored a goal, I still cheered! He was, after all, a Maple Leaf! And so that night, in a state of bliss induced by my attending my first NHL game ever, I sang Happy Birthday to Norm Ullman, my 2ND favorite Leaf, with all my heart!

I don't recall if Ullman scored that night. But I'm pretty sure he did. In fact, I think he was game's first star, and finished a few goals and assists. That's because something amazing happened that particular Boxing Day night. My beloved Toronto Maple Leafs defeated the Flyers by a score of 9 to 1. NINE to one!!!!!! My seven-year-old mind was blown! My first game, and (I was sure) it was a blow-out of historic proportions! Not only that, but I was certain that no NHL team would ever defeat anyone by such a one-sided score again! And so, forever, I would be able to tell people, I was there for the legendary 9-1 game! And everyone would be so impressed!

So all that next week, all my little street-hockey friends would hear from me was my bragging about having seen the greatest Leaf game of all time!

But maybe, just maybe, there's something about stuff happening on Boxing Day… Because here is where MY timing was off... (and there was a true life-lesson here -- something about not getting too high and mighty in life.) Wouldn't you know it, the very next Saturday night, January 2, 1971, the Leafs blow out Detroit by a stunning 13-0 score. ….So much for me forever bragging I'd seen the game of all games. (Just to rub it in, The Fates have seen to it that this 13-0 game is often aired on TV as a Classic Game.)

But still, life lesson in humility aside, December 26, 1970 is a night I will always cherish. It was the night my dad first took me to the shrine of hockey and hockey gods rewarded us -- the night an immigrant Dutch father and his seven-year-old son became a little bit more Canadian. And it was truly the most special Christmas gift I've ever received -- one day late.

Thirty-nine years later, I miss Maple Leaf Gardens, gone for more than a decade. And I miss my dad, too, an unheralded but great father –- gone for six years now. And now that he's gone, of course I think of him on Christmas Day. But even more so, I think of my dad on Boxing Day. Because it was on Boxing Day 1970, on Norm Ullman's 35th birthday, that me and my dad bonded for life, rising with joy from a pair of west-side blueline greys on nine separate occasions! "Ho-oy-y!"

And though both the Gardens and my much-loved father are no longer around, I can still find a reason to smile. Because somewhere out in the big wide world, the most unheralded hockey legend of all time turned 74 years old today.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Norm Ullman, wherever you are!