Singing the St. Louis Blues For Bobby Blue

Singing the St. Louis Blues for Bobby Blue

Robert Bryant Plager did not bleed blue; he embodied the Blues.  Bob Plager suited up for the club in Season One, Game One in 1967, and remained continuously with the Blues until his death nearly 54 years later.    An original Blue, Bob Plager was also a bona fide original. Local lad and longtime Cardinal Mike Shannon stands alone as his only peer in terms of a beloved and long-time St. Louis sports’ figure and ambassador.

Bob Plager grew up in Kirkland Lake, a town that produced so many hockey players per capita that legendary hockey broadcaster Foster Hewitt deemed it “the town that made the National Hockey League.”  In days of yore, kids in Northern Ontario learned to play on the frozen tundra, which girded tough players craving for advancement to the big time. 

Among that cast of “Kirklanders” was a brotherly trio of Plagers:  Barclay, Bobby and Billy.  As the middle brother cracked: “Barclay would beat up me; I would beat up Billy; and Billy would go across the street and beat up his cousin.”  All would play for the St. Louis Blues.  Barclay was the best of them; Bob, the most endearing and enduring.

The Kirkland Lake lads’ pugilistic abilities served them well in the days of old school hockey.   At a time when nearly every player skated helmetless, fisticuffs with wild roundhouse rights proved more common with the absent worry of breaking one’s hand on a helmet.  The Plager boys laid out body checks, and defended themselves as well as their teammates who lacked their gladiator gravitas.   Indeed, Bob once took on John Ferguson whose cheap-shot to a Blues’ teammate provoked his ire.  Ferguson—the undisputed Johnny Gringo of his time—gave Plager a drubbing though Bob landed a few of his own.  But the battle demonstrated that this Blue would defend his teammates, no matter the transgressor. 

However, Bob won most of his battles, including a pummeling of bad boy Derek Sanderson.   His lost-art, famed hip check sent “head down” puck carriers airborne.   He once launched Eddie “Clear the Track” Shack flying end over end with his gloves flying off one way, his stick the other.   As a defender, he also proved adept at blocking shots, and his inimitable golf-like back swing employed while retreating along the boards chipped many pucks out of harm’s way.

St. Louisans’ love affair for their defenseman who possessed a passion that boosted otherwise common abilities began in the days of The Arena.  Today’s old timers remember when St. Louis’ expansion team of grizzled, long-toothed veterans and youthful castoffs took on the NHL’s ‘original six teams’ of the elite Eastern Conference.  Those contests took on epic David vs. Goliath proportions.  The rafters in the old barn shook when the Blues scored an upset, with near 20,000 fans singing as one: “When the Blues (saints) Come Marching In.”   As brother Barclay once said: “It made the hair on your neck stand up.”

Bobby was the classic middle child, full of mirth with a craving for attention.  Quotable, and a raconteur, he was also a first rate mischief-maker.  No tie worn by a napper was safe from his scissors, including the teams’ owner’s son.   Bob oft said that he was number five on your scorecard, but number one in your hearts.  Indeed, he was loved as much for his persona as he was for his rugged, on ice performance. 

Number Five retired in 1978, having reached his goal of playing one more game for the Blues than brother Barc, at 615.  Appropriately, he stands in the Blues’ top ten in that category, as well as in career penalty minutes.

After his retirement, the Blues’ former defenseman made St. Louis his home where he served club positions ranging from scout, front office exec, broadcaster, to coach.  As a coach for Blues farm team, the Peoria Rivermen, the skipper led his team to the Turner Cup Championship in the International League in 1991-92.  His players loved playing for him, but his elevation as coach of the parent team proved short-lived demonstrating that it is easier to coach young players who covet advancement to the big time than it does to horsewhip players at the top, some of whom lack the same motivation level. 

Most coaches in the NHL are not known for their affability, which Bob could not countenance losing.  He resigned after just 11 games as the Blues’ head coach, but he continued his affiliation with the team thereafter, most notably as the team’s ubiquitous ambassador. 

Whether it was at a hockey game with fans, a television or radio interview, or hanging at his self-named pub, this true blue always remained recognizable, approachable, quotable, amusing, and an advocate for all things Blues.   

Incongruously, the man who was so upfront on ice and in life, was known to be too nervous at times to watch the Blues in their exhilarating 2019 Stanley Cup run as a certain dare-we-dare euphoria enveloped the team’s faithful.  He vested so much in his team that its’ Cup pursuit became almost too unbearable for him to watch.

Bobby Plager’s Blues last visited the Stanley Cup Finals against the same Boston Bruins 49 years earlier, but that expansion team lacked the talent to win it all.  But this time around, Coach Craig Berube’s team possessed the same spirit as its’ 1970 predecessors, along with the talent to match their opponent.   

Fittingly, Bob Plager took the ice with his hockey club when the League awarded Lord Stanley’s Cup to the St. Louis Blues.   With an ailing shoulder—the victim of too many body checks delivered to opponents—he hoisted the Cup above his head, with a little help from his friends on the team. 

Not surprisingly, Robert Plager shared a part of his day with the Stanley Cup with brother Barclay at the grave site where he toasted his brother and the team that he loved.  He met his own death on Highway 40, where he was likely heading to the Blues front office a mere two miles away.  His tragic loss evokes a line from the old classic tune that gave our team its’ name:

“I got them Saint Louis Blues; just as blue as I can be.”