NASHVILLE — Terry Crisp was 17 years old when he took his hockey stick and went home.

He had diagnosed himself with homesickness. He planned to hang up his skates and pursue his dream of being a high school teacher.

Little did Crisp know, a man named Stan Moore had followed him the nearly four hours that night to Parry Sound, Ontario, where Crisp lived.

Moore was manager of the St. Mary's Lincoln Junior "B" team and, it turns out, procurer of what would become of Crisp's career.

"I wasn't coming back," said Crisp, who is 78 now and will retire from the Nashville Predators broadcast team after 23 seasons with the franchise, ending a career that saw him win two Stanley Cups as a player and one as a head coach, one of 14 people to win one as a player and a coach. "He must have known. He drove all the way to my house at 10 o'clock at night and made me pack my suitcase, made me come back down to play for the Junior 'B' team."

Had Moore not made that drive and those demands, Crisp never would have spent the next 60-plus years in hockey.

Never would have won back-to-back Stanley Cups with the Philadelphia Flyers during an 11-year NHL playing career. Never would have won another during his nine-year career as an NHL coach, with the Calgary Flames in 1989. Never would have spent all those years as a broadcaster in Nashville, where he plans to stay with his wife, Sheila, after he retires.

Nope, he would have been retired long ago from teaching high school in his hometown. That was his dream when he was growing up.

Hockey just kind of happened.

The son rises

Terry Crisp was three days shy of 46 years old when three of his Flames players were prematurely planning a trip to Disney World — a fact Crisp's oldest son, Tony, hid from his father for years before fessing up.

Crisp's team was in Montreal on May 25, 1989, preparing for the sixth and final game of the Stanley Cup Final at Montreal Forum. Tony was working the game for Hockey Canada and the NHL at the time.

Al MacInnis, Mike Vernon and Doug Gilmour were the team's three top candidates for playoff MVP. Tony needed them to prerecord the famous, "I'm going to Disney World," promotion. He knew his father wouldn't approve, not before the team actually won the championship.

"Unbeknownst to me, when I left the building (after morning skate) ... they all had to stay and go on the ice," Crisp said. "I had to leave because they knew I wouldn't allow it, that I was against it and I was superstitious."

So Tony convinced his father to leave so the spots could be taped. The Flames won, MacInnis was named MVP and Tony kept it a secret from his father for years.

When Terry met Sheila

Before landing in Nashville as part of the Predators' original TV team with Pete Weber, Crisp had hockey homes in Boston with the Bruins, St. Louis with the Blues, Philadelphia with the Flyer and New York with the Islanders during a playing career that consisted of 646 games.

He went on to become the first coach of the expansion Tampa Bay Lightning for five-plus years before getting into broadcasting and calling Nashville home during the nonsummer months and Calgary home the rest of the time.

Sheila has been with him the whole time. The two met when they were in high school, when Terry was playing on that Junior "B" team. Her sister introduced them. They've been married for 56 years.

"One thing led to another and hockey was our life," she said. "It's hard to believe (he's retiring).

"I don't think he still is realizing that it's happening. We'll just move along. I'm sure hockey will still be part of our lives."

Pete and Terry's

Pete and Terry's, a restaurant/bar attached to Bridgestone Arena, is named after Crisp and Weber. Like the establishment, the two have become attached over the years while working together.

Countless memories, some not fit for print, decorate their history.

Like the time Weber feigned illness in the booth in Philadelphia and put Crisp on the spot during pregame.

"Pete started to cough and cough and he said he was going to be sick," Crisp said. "He was heading off the air."

Leaving the color man to do the play-by-play man's job. The producer yelled to Crisp to do the open. He flubbed it, badly.

"Then I realized he was over there laughing," Crisp said. "It was a setup."

A favor Weber feels fortunate to be able to return to his friend.

"Every time I see him my spirit just brightens up," Weber said. "I feel better just being around him."

The two were put together for one final TV broadcast together a couple of years ago, years after they stopped calling games together.

"I think we broke each other's ribs hugging when it was all over," Weber said.

First impressions, lasting impressions

Hockey Hall of Famer Scotty Bowman, who won 14 Stanley Cups as a player, coach and executive, remembers Stan Moore. He also remembers a young Terry Crisp, whom he first saw after Crisp was convinced by Moore to stay with St. Mary's Lincolns.

The two have remained close friends over the years. They reached three Stanley Cup finals together during the St. Louis Blues' first three years of existence — Bowman as a coach and Crisp a player.

Bowman described Crisp as a "utility player, penalty killer" and "not a great skater."

Crisp, whose father was in the Navy, worked as a coal miner and for the railroad, also was a "very hard worker."

Bowman sent Crisp to the minors twice. He regretted it both times.

"Even when I told him, he said to me, 'I'm going to get my foot back in the door and next time it will open.' ... Sure enough, we didn't do as well without him. He was a real pepper pot, always had so much energy. I was sorry I sent him down."

When Crisp was traded to the Flyers, known as the "Broad Street Bullies" at the time, he asked the coaching staff why they wanted him.

The answer was to kill all the penalties the team knew it would take.

And so he did.

"If you're ever feeling lousy and need a pickup, he's going to give it to you," Bowman said. "I have nothing but a lot of admiration for a guy that has had these setbacks and he doesn't let them interfere with his long-range plans, you know?"

Plans that soon will consist not so much of hockey.

"People will be sad to see him go," Bowman said.

Family matters

And some people will be glad he left. Such as his wife, his three children, his 10 grandchildren.

Crisp wanted no pomp or circumstance, resisted a farewell tour. Would rather have retired quietly. But the Predators and Bally Sports weren't going to let that happen.

Sheila convinced him such a season could be fun. The announcement was made at the end of October, fittingly, in Calgary. All his kids and grandkids were there.

Four players from the 1989 Flames team showed up for a dinner. His family was there for what Crisp called "more of a roast than a dinner."

It felt perfect.

Truth is, though, Crisp had been contemplating hanging up his mic for a couple of years. The COVID-19 pandemic convinced him it was time.

He hasn't shot the breeze face to face with a player or coach since the pandemic hit. All the pauses in the seasons and the fact he stopped traveling with the team a few years ago caused him to slow down and spend more time with his family.

"It took a different swing," Crisp said. "It wasn't the same atmosphere that we had grown up in. .. You could intermingle with guys and that was all gone. When that disappeared, you sort of look and say, 'You know what, it's time to call it quits."

Crisp's favorite song is "Save the Last Dance For Me."

At 78, his final professional hockey dance has arrived.

Reach Paul Skrbina at pskrbina@tennessean.com and follow him on Twitter @PaulSkrbina.

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Nashville Predators' Terry Crisp: A hockey legacy almost never happened