Peter Puck's last stand
BRENT JANG
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Outside the exclusive condo, two "foo dog" sculptures protected the front door. The symbols of good fortune and wisdom are known in Asia for guarding the gates of heaven. But they couldn't halt what was about to transpire on a sweltering July day in Indian Wells, a resort town in the California desert. Three U.S. marshals waited patiently at the third-floor entrance, expecting Peter Pocklington to answer the door.
But Pocklington was in the shower. His wife, Eva, and a maid heard the knocking and went to see why anyone would bother them at 10:30 a.m. during a heat wave. Shown some documents, the women let the marshals walk into the expansive condo. It overlooked a private 18-hole golf course—just one of the accoutrements of the Vintage Club, a gated community where the Pocklingtons rubbed shoulders with the likes of Bill Gates.
Emerging wet-haired, the 66-year-old Pocklington was handed a copy of a court order that allowed the marshals to seize valuable artwork from the condo. Minutes later, one of the marshals motioned to others to come inside. Naomi Balcombe and four people supporting her quest for justice marched in. If Pocklington wasn't going to make good on the purchase of Balcombe's company, she, thanks to the court order, would be reimbursed another way—with his prized possessions. Six specialty movers followed her.
For Balcombe, a 34-year-old entrepreneur, the raid was a dream come true. "I had to pinch myself," she remembered later. For Pocklington, it was a day of reckoning. He'd used the trappings of wealth and his high-profile past in Canada to impress potential business partners in the United States. But Balcombe and others who had been seduced, and then disappointed, were now turning against him. Even the Alberta government was after him about some unfinished business.
Balcombe heard an angry Pocklington talking loudly on the phone, informing his lawyer about the raid. Neatly arranged in a row on a wall behind Pocklington's ornate desk were five Andy Warhol prints of Mick Jagger. On the floor beneath the desk, there was a life-sized bronze head of Pocklington himself. Before the day was over, the movers packed and crated 56 works of art, including the Warhols, the bust and the impotent foo dogs.
This was only the first of three raids that would turn Pocklington's world upside down. When it was over, much of the condo was as bare as Whoville in the wake of the Grinch. Pocklington has refused to let the dramatic events defeat him, countering that the art and most other goods were unfairly taken because they belong not to him but to Eva. "They took everything that they could get their hands on, and it'll all come back," he says with trademark defiance during one in a series of short interviews. "In the U.S., in some cases, it's a bit of a police state. It's sickening. California seems the worst in the country. They have so many lawyers per square inch, and they're all just trolling. It's sad."
Balcombe's bold move opened the gates for dozens of other creditors. "Mr. Pocklington has been successful dodging creditors throughout the world and is extremely sophisticated in this regard," lawyers for Balcombe argued in U.S. District Court in the application to seize assets. "He is comfortable deceiving people and ignoring the law." Pocklington, however, denies any wrongdoing. None of the allegations has been proven in court.
Peter Hugh Pocklington slipped off Canadians' radar screen in 2000, when he left Edmonton, seemingly reduced to nothing—stripped of his assets by angry creditors, and with little to show for having owned the National Hockey League's Edmonton Oilers. Yet the hard-nosed entrepreneur, born and raised in London, Ontario, once controlled a sprawling business empire.
A Grade 12 dropout, Pocklington started out as a car salesman in Southern Ontario. In 1971, 30 years old, he arrived in Edmonton and opened a Ford dealership. He soon used his profit from car sales to diversify into other interests, including financial services, real estate and the Oilers. He signed Wayne Gretzky in 1978 in a deal with Vancouver businessman Nelson Skalbania. Gretzky was then a skinny 17-year-old, but his prodigious skills were already dazzling hockey fans across Canada. The Oilers, in the World Hockey Association at the time, joined the NHL one year later.
The '80s were the prime of the man who became known as Peter Puck. But if the decade showed how business success can open doors leading as far as the highest office in the country, it also revealed the downside of being in the public eye.
In the spring of 1982, during an intruder's botched attempt to kidnap Eva, Pocklington was taken hostage at gunpoint for 11 hours in his mansion in Edmonton. He suffered a wound from a police bullet during the incident. Eva managed to escape unscathed, and two servants were released unharmed.
Pocklington endured a particularly turbulent year in 1983, first because the federal Department of Insurance placed his Fidelity Trust Co. on probation. Fidelity, which boasted former U.S. president Gerald Ford as a special consultant, was ailing because of bad real estate loans. The company's ultimate collapse resulted in the federal government's Canada Deposit Insurance Corp.'s bailing out depositors to the tune of $359 million.
In the summer, Pocklington ran for the federal Progressive Conservative leadership. The arriviste faced long odds against a field of party heavyweights, all of whom were comparative moderates. In statements made prior to the campaign and in its wake, Pocklington made clear his contempt for the civil service ("rules, regulations and bureaucratic control"), Crown corporations (an "abomination"), the Liberals ("a socialist party"), the press ("80% socialist") and organized labour ("scrap the unions").
Pocklington ran on a platform that emphasized a flat tax of 20%, a proposal that would lighten the tax burden on the rich. Pocklington and future finance minister Michael Wilson withdrew after the first ballot, both throwing their support to Brian Mulroney, the eventual winner. But during the campaign, Wilson had clashed with the maverick from Edmonton. "I'm fighting against a Pocklington who says, 'I'm going to fire the whole civil service,'" Wilson complained.
Finally, the year showed the public one more layer to Pocklington besides controversial businessman and aspiring politician—new-age enthusiast. In the fall, a Supreme Court of Ontario jury dismissed a $7-million claim against Pocklington by a psychic, Rita Burns, who alleged that he had failed to pay for advice on personal and business issues. "There have been a lot of snickers already, but the people I care about will understand," Pocklington said. He once told an interviewer that he leaves his body for nocturnal trips to foreign locales like the Pyramids. Although he would later explain that those remarks were exaggerated, he was steadfast in his belief in destiny.
As the decade progressed, Pocklington collected enemies like kids collect hockey cards. In 1986, two years after the Oilers won their first Stanley Cup, Pocklington brought in replacement workers during an ugly strike at his Gainers Inc. meat-packing plant in Edmonton. Union leaders never forgave him for the use of strikebreakers.
The six-month strike was a turning point for the industry, placing pressure on Canadian producers to narrow the wage gap between its workers and lower-paid ones in the United States. The strike also led to a boycott from which the company couldn't recover. (After three ownership changes, Maple Leaf Foods decided to close the meat packer for good amid a strike in 1997.)
Then came the infamous trade on Aug. 9, 1988. Pocklington will forever be vilified by Oilers fans as the man who sold Gretzky to the Los Angeles Kings for $18 million. It turned out to be the beginning of the end for Pocklington's grip over the Oilers.
Over the next 10 years, even as his corporate debts steadily grew, the Pocklingtons avidly pursued their hobbies as collectors. Eva favoured Buddhas, designer handbags, jewellery and Inuit carvings, while her husband accumulated art, Cuban cigars and wine. Some 40 Renoir sketches covered the walls of their home, while Pocklington's office was graced by the Group of Seven.
BRENT JANG
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Outside the exclusive condo, two "foo dog" sculptures protected the front door. The symbols of good fortune and wisdom are known in Asia for guarding the gates of heaven. But they couldn't halt what was about to transpire on a sweltering July day in Indian Wells, a resort town in the California desert. Three U.S. marshals waited patiently at the third-floor entrance, expecting Peter Pocklington to answer the door.
But Pocklington was in the shower. His wife, Eva, and a maid heard the knocking and went to see why anyone would bother them at 10:30 a.m. during a heat wave. Shown some documents, the women let the marshals walk into the expansive condo. It overlooked a private 18-hole golf course—just one of the accoutrements of the Vintage Club, a gated community where the Pocklingtons rubbed shoulders with the likes of Bill Gates.
Emerging wet-haired, the 66-year-old Pocklington was handed a copy of a court order that allowed the marshals to seize valuable artwork from the condo. Minutes later, one of the marshals motioned to others to come inside. Naomi Balcombe and four people supporting her quest for justice marched in. If Pocklington wasn't going to make good on the purchase of Balcombe's company, she, thanks to the court order, would be reimbursed another way—with his prized possessions. Six specialty movers followed her.
For Balcombe, a 34-year-old entrepreneur, the raid was a dream come true. "I had to pinch myself," she remembered later. For Pocklington, it was a day of reckoning. He'd used the trappings of wealth and his high-profile past in Canada to impress potential business partners in the United States. But Balcombe and others who had been seduced, and then disappointed, were now turning against him. Even the Alberta government was after him about some unfinished business.
Balcombe heard an angry Pocklington talking loudly on the phone, informing his lawyer about the raid. Neatly arranged in a row on a wall behind Pocklington's ornate desk were five Andy Warhol prints of Mick Jagger. On the floor beneath the desk, there was a life-sized bronze head of Pocklington himself. Before the day was over, the movers packed and crated 56 works of art, including the Warhols, the bust and the impotent foo dogs.
This was only the first of three raids that would turn Pocklington's world upside down. When it was over, much of the condo was as bare as Whoville in the wake of the Grinch. Pocklington has refused to let the dramatic events defeat him, countering that the art and most other goods were unfairly taken because they belong not to him but to Eva. "They took everything that they could get their hands on, and it'll all come back," he says with trademark defiance during one in a series of short interviews. "In the U.S., in some cases, it's a bit of a police state. It's sickening. California seems the worst in the country. They have so many lawyers per square inch, and they're all just trolling. It's sad."
Balcombe's bold move opened the gates for dozens of other creditors. "Mr. Pocklington has been successful dodging creditors throughout the world and is extremely sophisticated in this regard," lawyers for Balcombe argued in U.S. District Court in the application to seize assets. "He is comfortable deceiving people and ignoring the law." Pocklington, however, denies any wrongdoing. None of the allegations has been proven in court.
Peter Hugh Pocklington slipped off Canadians' radar screen in 2000, when he left Edmonton, seemingly reduced to nothing—stripped of his assets by angry creditors, and with little to show for having owned the National Hockey League's Edmonton Oilers. Yet the hard-nosed entrepreneur, born and raised in London, Ontario, once controlled a sprawling business empire.
A Grade 12 dropout, Pocklington started out as a car salesman in Southern Ontario. In 1971, 30 years old, he arrived in Edmonton and opened a Ford dealership. He soon used his profit from car sales to diversify into other interests, including financial services, real estate and the Oilers. He signed Wayne Gretzky in 1978 in a deal with Vancouver businessman Nelson Skalbania. Gretzky was then a skinny 17-year-old, but his prodigious skills were already dazzling hockey fans across Canada. The Oilers, in the World Hockey Association at the time, joined the NHL one year later.
The '80s were the prime of the man who became known as Peter Puck. But if the decade showed how business success can open doors leading as far as the highest office in the country, it also revealed the downside of being in the public eye.
In the spring of 1982, during an intruder's botched attempt to kidnap Eva, Pocklington was taken hostage at gunpoint for 11 hours in his mansion in Edmonton. He suffered a wound from a police bullet during the incident. Eva managed to escape unscathed, and two servants were released unharmed.
Pocklington endured a particularly turbulent year in 1983, first because the federal Department of Insurance placed his Fidelity Trust Co. on probation. Fidelity, which boasted former U.S. president Gerald Ford as a special consultant, was ailing because of bad real estate loans. The company's ultimate collapse resulted in the federal government's Canada Deposit Insurance Corp.'s bailing out depositors to the tune of $359 million.
In the summer, Pocklington ran for the federal Progressive Conservative leadership. The arriviste faced long odds against a field of party heavyweights, all of whom were comparative moderates. In statements made prior to the campaign and in its wake, Pocklington made clear his contempt for the civil service ("rules, regulations and bureaucratic control"), Crown corporations (an "abomination"), the Liberals ("a socialist party"), the press ("80% socialist") and organized labour ("scrap the unions").
Pocklington ran on a platform that emphasized a flat tax of 20%, a proposal that would lighten the tax burden on the rich. Pocklington and future finance minister Michael Wilson withdrew after the first ballot, both throwing their support to Brian Mulroney, the eventual winner. But during the campaign, Wilson had clashed with the maverick from Edmonton. "I'm fighting against a Pocklington who says, 'I'm going to fire the whole civil service,'" Wilson complained.
Finally, the year showed the public one more layer to Pocklington besides controversial businessman and aspiring politician—new-age enthusiast. In the fall, a Supreme Court of Ontario jury dismissed a $7-million claim against Pocklington by a psychic, Rita Burns, who alleged that he had failed to pay for advice on personal and business issues. "There have been a lot of snickers already, but the people I care about will understand," Pocklington said. He once told an interviewer that he leaves his body for nocturnal trips to foreign locales like the Pyramids. Although he would later explain that those remarks were exaggerated, he was steadfast in his belief in destiny.
As the decade progressed, Pocklington collected enemies like kids collect hockey cards. In 1986, two years after the Oilers won their first Stanley Cup, Pocklington brought in replacement workers during an ugly strike at his Gainers Inc. meat-packing plant in Edmonton. Union leaders never forgave him for the use of strikebreakers.
The six-month strike was a turning point for the industry, placing pressure on Canadian producers to narrow the wage gap between its workers and lower-paid ones in the United States. The strike also led to a boycott from which the company couldn't recover. (After three ownership changes, Maple Leaf Foods decided to close the meat packer for good amid a strike in 1997.)
Then came the infamous trade on Aug. 9, 1988. Pocklington will forever be vilified by Oilers fans as the man who sold Gretzky to the Los Angeles Kings for $18 million. It turned out to be the beginning of the end for Pocklington's grip over the Oilers.
Over the next 10 years, even as his corporate debts steadily grew, the Pocklingtons avidly pursued their hobbies as collectors. Eva favoured Buddhas, designer handbags, jewellery and Inuit carvings, while her husband accumulated art, Cuban cigars and wine. Some 40 Renoir sketches covered the walls of their home, while Pocklington's office was graced by the Group of Seven.
