(11 of 12)
Gretzky understands that breaking his own scoring record, securing his fifth consecutive point title and assuring his sixth straight MVP distinction have lost some shock value. But this never means any less to him. "Every time I break a record I'm excited, even if it's my own. I want to crack the 212 this year (he is on a 214 pace), and some season before long somebody's going to get 100 goals. I'd like it to be me." Phil Esposito's 76 goals with the Boston Bruins served as the standard for eleven years, until Gretzky beat that by 16. "It takes guts," says Esposito, now retired, "to recognize you have that much talent and to dedicate yourself to it."
At the same time, the prosperity of the Oilers' Jari Kurri on the Gretzky line is significant. Sixty points (combined goals and assists) behind Gretzky but trying to shade him in goals, the right-winger has become the first European to score over 60 in an N.H.L. season. "We're instinctive," says Kurri of their partnership. Gretzky grins, "If someone else has a better opportunity, give it to him." Every angle of this geometry makes him rejoice.
Gretzky fairly boasts that he "never touches a stick" in the off-season, but does not account for the solid summer he spent rounding up the children of Brantford to practice breakaways on lone goalies in an indoor ice rink, using tennis balls. "I'm still not that good on breakaways, but I'm four times better than I used to be." The truth is, shinny games tempt him. Meanwhile Bird is embarrassed to admit, "Last summer I caught myself shooting around for five hours. I thought, 'What's wrong with me?' It's like I get this guilty feeling that I'm not playing enough, that someone is playing more." Dr. J? Magic? "Some kid in the sixth grade."
Bird and Gretzky are each involved in a long-standing relationship with one woman. Gretzky's sweetheart Vickie Moss is a cabaret singer. Joey, the Oilers' clubhouse boy, is her younger brother. From a momentary marriage to a cheerleader, Bird has a seven-year-old daughter he sees in the summertime. His companion is a Kelly Girl secretary named Dinah Mattingly. Neither man is extravagant, though Gretzky likes to dress. No longer fazed by clothes, Bird plucked his MVP trophy in shirtsleeves from a crowd of tuxedoes. Both are adept at trading in the Ferraris and Trans Ams they are frequently awarded, or handing them down to brothers.
As long as men beat sticks against the ice, not to mention each other, Gretzky will be remembered. Bird's legacy should also be durable, though he attaches little importance to history: "As far as that goes, it's enough for me that the flags are flying in Boston Garden." Neither expected to possess his sport for long or forever. "When I finish," says Gretzky, "I'll walk away from it totally, be my own person, my own businessman." This plan amuses Gretzky's friend Howe, who lingered 32 pro seasons and is a Hartford Whalers' executive now. The way Bird looks at it, "When it's all over with, I'll just go off and be glad. At the end of every season, when you get up the next morning, you think: 'Hey, no bus to take today, no plane to catch tomorrow.' It's the greatest feeling next to the championship." One gentle concern: he wonders if French Lick or even Terre Haute will ever suit him again as a place to live, now that he's seen Paree.