9 minute read
Canadian Cowboy Country December 2022/January 2023
DARRYL SUTTER
“THE JOLLY RANCHER”
STORY AND PHOTOS BY BILL BORGWARDT
Darryl at the rugged cabin he rebuilt
PHOTOS BY BILL BORGWARDT
He is a two-time Stanley Cup-winning coach, the top man behind the bench with the Calgary Flames, and the 2021 NHL Coach of the Year. Inside, he is a boy who grew up loving the wide open spaces and the heritage of the rich ranching country of central Alberta. Darryl Sutter is a true Albertan and a rancher whose roots in the area are deep.
Darryl’s grandfather, Charles William Sutter, moved from Ontario and settled near Viking, Alta. “It was either 1903 or 1904,” says Darryl. “Depending on who you ask. It was definitely before Alberta became a province.” Since that time, the ranch has expanded and now encompasses 3,000 acres. Darryl’s dad and mother, Louis and Grace, raised seven boys on the property; six of them went on to a career playing hockey in the NHL.
Growing up, the boys had free run of the ranch, often riding horseback and exploring the far reaches of the property. Darryl always cherished the rural lifestyle and the unbridled freedom it provided, so it’s not surprising that it was he who followed the family legacy. Although being a hockey coach takes up much of his year, the rest of his time is spent on the ranch, where he and his wife, Wanda, built a modern ranch house in the same yard where the boys grew up. The couple has three children, Brett, Jes sie, and Christopher.
“We run around 450 head of Red Angus/ Simmental-cross cows, with white Charolais bulls,” Darryl states as he surveys the herd, “and we have several horses.” Except for 600 acres of rotating forage crops and the ranch headquarters, the rest of the property is divided into numerous pastures. The land features excellent grazing areas with deep water ponds, ideally suited for raising livestock. “We rotate the pastures monthly, usually on the first of the month, which makes it easy to keep track,” Darryl adds.
The Sutter ranch is bisected east/west by the CNR mainline and Highway 14, which run parallel. This unfortunate split leaves 1,000 acres on the north side, 2,000 acres to the south and a headache to move their cattle.
“In the old days, we could move the herd from one side of the highway to the other by notifying the RCMP to shut down the highway and CN to hold the trains,” Darryl recollects. “But now there is just so much truck traffic on the highway, and the trains can run as close as 20 minutes apart, so shutting things down is nearly impossible, and the cost is unbelievable.”
These days, the cattle are trucked across the division. It may take longer to move them, but it’s the only way they can do it. Doctoring sick cattle also required an out-of-the-box solution, antibiotics admin istered from afar.
Darrel points out a cow who is lying down away from the herd. “Looks like we’ve got a cow who isn’t feeling too good,” he says. “The neighbour we met back on the road has a dart rifle. I’ll have to let him know to check her out and shoot her with some antibiotics.” Rather than roping her, loading the cow and calf, trucking and putting her through a squeeze chute to administer the drugs, the option of using a dart gun to administer medicine is as stress-free as the rancher can get.
One of Darryl’s favourite spots is a hill in the middle of the southern section of the ranch. With an elevation of 4,000 feet, it is the highest point in the area. “From here, you can see 40 miles in every direc tion,” he gestures. The entire ranch is visible at this elevation, making it easy to see the cow herd.
Darryl sitting at the table he made inside the ranch cabin, filled with childhood mementos and various antiques like stove lid lifters and metal currycombs.
“You can see the ranch house away over there,” he points. “See those trees and that lake away to the south? That’s the edge of the ranch. When we were kids, we’d ride all the way over there.” This particular lookout spot has been a respected location for the plains people for centuries. It is the location of the Ribstones, a provincial heritage site containing two rocks believed to have been carved in ancient times to represent the ribs of a buffalo.
Another favourite spot is a rustic cabin that Darryl renovated on the site of an old store that was absorbed when the ranch expanded. “When we were kids, an old couple lived here,” he recalls. “I built this place with salvaged materials. I even built that table and those bunk beds.” The cabin’s interior is adorned with fam ily, western, and pioneer artefacts. The exterior walls and surrounding wood fence are decked out with animal horns, antlers, skulls and pioneer items. Lining the driveway are several pieces of antique horse-drawn machinery. Pointing to them, he says, “I pulled these old pieces of machinery out of the bush. This one is an old horse-drawn plough.” Darryl has a keen interest in pioneer heritage and its preservation.
Jubilation was captured for all time on Darryl’s face as the Los Angeles Kings coach hoisted the Stanley Cup in their first victory in 2012. Famous for his deadpan delivery and references to ranching, sports media dubbed him “The Jolly Rancher.”
Granddaughter Mackenzie on horseback, Darryl and son Chris at the Sutter ranch gate
There are plenty of outbuildings on the Sutter place, but one stands out. It’s a large machine shop — inside it is Sutter Hockey Hall.
“I had all this stuff packed away in boxes. When we had the Covid shutdown, I didn’t have anything to do, so I figured it was time to gather everything together and display it rather than having it where nobody could see it,” he states while Pointing out various pieces. The finished interior is a collector’s dream, with an astounding collection of newspaper and magazine clippings, photos and memorabilia from his family’s hockey history. Positioned horizontally on a rack is an array of hockey sticks and equipment used by Darryl and his brothers while learning to play hockey on the farm. Highlighted clip pings and photos of his and his brother’s hockey careers include photos of when Darryl coached the Los Angeles Kings to the Stanley Cup Championships in 2012 and 2014.
In the main ranch house, with its Western decor, you would never know that he was a famous hockey personality, but there’s no doubt he’s a proud rancher. However, there is a corner where a small selection of hockey trophies and awards are displayed among other western historical treasures.
The Sutter home is more cowboy than coach, with Western paintings, bronzes and a rebuilt NWMP saddle, and one small area for hockey trophies
“This saddle was found in an old building by a friend. The leather was pretty well gone, but the maker’s crest was still there, identifying it as a North-West Mounted Police saddle, and the wood frame [saddle tree] was intact. A saddlemaker rebuilt it for me and incorporated the original crest,” he explained. “Notice the two leather straps on the front. The Mounted Police didn’t carry their rifles in a side scabbard. Instead, the rifle was mounted across the front of the saddle through those loops,” he explains.
As the coach of the Calgary Flames hockey club, Darryl is away from the ranch from September to May or whenever the flexible hockey season ends. “I’m lucky if I get one day off to come home to the farm at Christmas,” he smiles. He relies on hired help to take care of the cattle and chores throughout the winter, but as soon as the hockey season is over, he’s transformed from a tough, no-nonsense hockey coach to a humble and friendly local Viking rancher, a true man of the earth.
Perhaps one of the most coveted hockey stick collections in Western Canada, all used by the Sutters. Collectively, all six brothers were inducted into the Alberta Hockey Hall of Fame in 2017.
IT’S CHRIS SUTTER TIME!
When Darryl and Wanda Sutter’s son Chris, their third child, was born in 1993 in Chicago, doctors didn’t give him much chance of survival, but his parents never gave up on him. After several operations that saved his life, including major heart surgery when he was less than two weeks old, doctors discovered that he had Down syndrome, a condition affecting a child’s mental and physical development.
“The real part of it was, imagine how it is when doctors tell you as a father and a mother that you should give your child up,” said Darryl, pausing. “That’s what they told us. They said we should make him what’s called a ‘ward of the state.’
“You’ve got to remember, that was quite a while ago. When we were growing up, a lot of children with special needs weren’t raised by their family.
“I said, ‘You worry about making him healthy enough to get out of here, and I’ll worry about where he lives.’”
At home on the farm, Chris pointed to a framed photo, “This is me and Jarome,” he said, of the 2004 photo of himself with former Flames legend Jarome Iginla, hanging among the memorabilia displayed in the large workshop.
In the off-season, when he’s not involved with Special Olympics or other sporting events, you’ll find Chris on his quad on the ranch, checking fences and keeping tabs on the cattle, meticulously marking down tag numbers of cattle that might need attention. The hard worker also has a job in town, unloading grocery trucks.
Being so close to his father, naturally, hockey is a big part of his life, and he’s a huge fan of whatever hockey club his dad has been involved with, especially his beloved Calgary Flames. Chris has a regular presence at the Calgary home games, and all the play ers love him. His positivity and his dressing room pep talks are legendary. An inspiration to the players, he is also a Flames celebrity, loved by the sold-out masses at Flames games in the Saddledome. When the Jumbotron booms “It’s Chris Sutter Time!” and the music starts, you’ll find Chris in the aisles, wearing his Flames jersey and scarf, dancing up a storm and encouraging the fans to do likewise.
Chris’ dancing tradition started during Darryl’s first go-around with the Flames in the early 2000s, when Chris was a young boy.
“(Late Flames president) Ken King was huge with that. He told Chris, ‘Your job is to get 20,000 people on their feet,’” said Darryl.
Chris Sutter
And they do — in droves.
