In the 1920s, the Montreal Canadiens had a vast farm system, reaching far into the English regions of Canada. Franchise players like Newsy Lalonde had bid adieu, and the Canadiens needed someone to grasp the torch, to hold it high.
Howie Morenz became the new Center for the Canadiens in 1923. Flourishing in the hockey clubs of sleepy southwestern Ontario towns (Mitchell, Stratford), Morenz was lauded among those who celebrate the game played by those small clubs. He was fast, but he was also extraordinarily clever. It's been said that when he took control of the puck, all the other players on the ice looked like they were skating backwards, even though they were trying to keep up.
His first year spent in Montreal brought home the Stanley Cup. The feat would be repeated two more times. Morenz dominated the league, often leading in goals, assists and penalty minutes. There were three Hart trophy honours, All-Star recognition, and accolades in the press. One night in New York, the Rangers' coach admonished his players not to hit Morenz. "Don't hit Morenz tonight. The little guy is nursing a leg so sore he shouldn't be playing. He only dressed because he knows the New York fans are anxious to see him perform."
On January 28, 1937, Howie Morenz encountered all 6 feet 3 inches of Chicago Blackhawks defenceman Earl Siebert in the corner of the rink. An errant puck had made it there first, and both men hurtled towards it without any regard for the effect such a showdown may have on the structural integrity of their bodies. A rut in the ice clamped onto Morenz's skate right before he felt the weight of Siebert's body bear down on him. Morenz's leg snapped like a piece of chalk. Those present in the Forum said the snap could be heard throughout the arena.
((The acoustic sophistication of ice arenas is little better than an echo tank. A chunk of vulcanized rubber hitting the boards at a significant velocity sounds like a kick drum at a Metallica concert.))
Morenz spent 6 weeks in a Montreal hospital, a time fraught with premonitions of his death. He remarked to teammate Aurel Joliat that he couldn't wait to watch the Canadiens play again. When he made the remark, he gestured toward a spot somewhere above the lights of the room, through the ceiling tiles, above the roof of the hospital. He meant to imply a heavenly seat.
He died of a pulmonary embolism shortly thereafter, on March 8, 1937. Not one member of the Canadiens has even considered stitching a #7 onto their jersey since.