Goalie gets throat cut

This article was published more than 9 years ago. Some information may no longer be current. Buffalo Sabres goalie Clint Malarchuk clutches his throat after suffering a lacerated neck in this March 22, photo in Buffalo, N.

I can remember my March 22, , NHL game vividly. When you face death, it's going to be ingrained in your memory, even more than 30 years later. I was the goalie for the Buffalo Sabres. We were playing the St. Louis Blues when a player named Steve Tuttle crashed into me, skates-first. I can see the whole play: Steve racing toward me, the skate coming up, and then blood rhythmically squirting from my neck.

Goalie gets throat cut

Clint Malarchuk was a goaltender for the Nordiques, Capitals and Sabres while suffering high anxiety, depression and obsessive compulsive disorder. He was also nearly killed when sliced open by a skate across his neck in the most gruesome injury hockey has ever seen. After recovering from the near-death experience, Malarchuk battled depression and alcohol dependence, which nearly cost him his life and left a bullet in his head. As I prepared for our game against the St. Louis Blues that night, I sat by myself in the locker room at the Memorial Auditorium, staring down at the floor, visualizing myself in net. It was a routine I did before every game. The meditation forced me to focus on one thing: the puck. It quelled the chaos and turned it into a positive obsession. I'd run through stop after stop in my mind -- a pad save, a glove save, a breakaway. After being lost in an imaginary future, I got off the bench and went out into the hallway, beneath the seats slowly filling with fans. I turned to face a cement-block wall a few feet away, squared my shoulders and crouched. I threw a rubber ball against the wall with my right hand and caught it with my left. Then I threw it with my left and caught it with my right. Each time, the ball bounced off the wall faster than it originally hit it.

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Read Story Transcript. In the middle of a televised hockey game in , the skate of an opposing player connected with Buffalo Sabres goaltender Clint Malarchuk's throat — and severed his jugular vein. As officials rushed to help, Clint turned to the team's equipment manager and said: "Hold my hand while I die. But Clint didn't die, despite the devastating injury. Miraculously, the team's trainer — a Vietnam War veteran — was able to stem the bleeding. Looking back, Clint thinks he was in shock for those first few months.

I can remember my March 22, , NHL game vividly. When you face death, it's going to be ingrained in your memory, even more than 30 years later. I was the goalie for the Buffalo Sabres. We were playing the St. Louis Blues when a player named Steve Tuttle crashed into me, skates-first. I can see the whole play: Steve racing toward me, the skate coming up, and then blood rhythmically squirting from my neck. I immediately knew I was in major trouble. I told the equipment manager to call my mother and tell her I loved her.

Goalie gets throat cut

Read Story Transcript. In the middle of a televised hockey game in , the skate of an opposing player connected with Buffalo Sabres goaltender Clint Malarchuk's throat — and severed his jugular vein. As officials rushed to help, Clint turned to the team's equipment manager and said: "Hold my hand while I die. But Clint didn't die, despite the devastating injury.

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Sometimes, I would throw two balls against the wall, tossing one and catching the other at the same time. She went so far as to say she believed he was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. A day stay in a rehabilitation facility following his suicide attempt was the first step, and it wasn't an easy one. Years earlier, Jim had been a combat engineer in the Vietnam War. So they put Tina on my case. Another trigger for Malarchuk. I got home and took painkillers for a broken thumb that I was playing with. The Blues' Steve Tuttle, a twenty-three-year-old rookie, charged to the net, looking for a pass. Toggle limited content width. He gripped Malarchuk's neck and pinched off the blood vessels, not letting go until doctors arrived to begin stabilizing the wound. It was a circus, and it was too much for the hospital to handle. As he knelt next to the goal clutching his slit throat, while blood pulsed out like a fountain and pooled around him, all Clint Malarchuk could think of was to get off live TV so that his mum did not have to watch him die.

We all know the man.

My sister was still there. I had seen a television show that said a severed jugular would bleed out in minutes. We were up 1—0. I started to work on a better relationship with God. The Quebec Nordiques clubhouse had a smoking room and beer fridge. I didn't even entertain the idea. It was just me and her and the hospital's PR staff. The book tells the bigger story of a goaltender who played career games for the Nordiques, Sabres and Washington Capitals. She went so far as to say she believed he was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. The bottle said the pills would cause drowsiness if they were mixed with alcohol. Sign up for NBC Philadelphia newsletters. Local U. She flipped. I was the goalie for the Buffalo Sabres. No one laughed.