Licensed for laughs: Gary Blied and Frank Marzano pose in their scrubs. Their inter­mis­sion antics became an infa­mous part of Ferris hockey games. Photo Courtesy of FSU Photo Services

The pub­lic address announcer boomed: Ladies and gen­tle­men — There’s a car in the park­ing lot with its lights on — a pink Cadillac with leop­ard skin seats!!

Suddenly, two young men dressed in doc­tors’ scrubs leap from their seats at cen­ter ice, bump into each other, and run around in cir­cles like a crazy Marx-brothers skit.

Flash back to circa-1982 … it’s a Bulldog hockey game at Ferris State’s Ewigleben Ice Arena and the late Bill Buckingham, the beloved “voice of the Bulldogs,” has deliv­ered his ear-splitting queue to Frank Marzano and Gary “Bear” Blied, who go into their famil­iar fan-pleasing routine.

Meet, or recall if you may, “The Doctors.”

There Is Hockey — And Then There Are Hockey Fans

Ferris hockey fans laud the “Dawg Pound,” the infa­mous stu­dent sec­tion that has made a huge impact over the years for oppos­ing teams and goal­tenders try­ing to steal a win from the Bulldogs. This vocal throng of uncom­pro­mis­ing loy­al­ists has girded a rep­u­ta­tion around the Central Collegiate Hockey Association for mak­ing Ewigleben the tough­est venue imag­in­able for road teams.

Yet it was two free-spirited “class clowns” – Marzano and Blied, who dot­ted the folk­lore of Bulldog Hockey dur­ing the for­ma­tive years ofDi­vi­sion I com­pe­ti­tion at then Ferris State College.

The Doctors were indeed in the house before the Dawg Pound emerged from the kennel.

Blied and Marzano were under­grad­u­ates at Ferris in the early 1980s when their pas­sion for the Bulldogs col­lided with the the­atre of the absurd. Dressing in doc­tors’ scrubs, string­ing a rub­ber chicken in the rafters and con­nect­ing with fel­low fans became the stuff of hockey legends.

Today, Blied pilots a Boeing 767 out of Chicago for American Airlines and Marzano caters his home­made piz­zas to cus­tomers in Plymouth, Wisc. Though their pro­fes­sional paths may never cross, their time together at Ferris remains indelible.

Marzano grew up in Detroit as a life­long Red Wings fan. When he was nine-years old, he met the great Gordie Howe while deliv­er­ing pro­duce door-to-door with his uncle. Meanwhile, across the state, Blied was liv­ing out his for­ma­tive years in Battle Creek and find­ing employ­ment as a fire­fighter to help pay his way through college.

Both went on to enroll at Ferris in the College of Business. They met as sopho­mores. Blied was a Resident Advisor at Cramer Hall and Marzano was kind of an eccen­tric. Their rou­tine began inno­cently enough at a Halloween-themed Bulldog Hockey game when Gary came dressed as Father Guido Sarducci (of Saturday Night Live TV fame) and Frank wore a pair of old receiv­ing scrubs from a Detroit hos­pi­tal. The fol­low­ing week, they both attended a game dressed in scrubs and the rest, as they say, is history.

Friends In Hockey Are Friends Forever

“I just love the legacy and how the com­mu­nity embraced us,” Marzano said. “Like wow, what great peo­ple sur­round­ing this hockey team. They bought new scrubs for us and expected us to be in cos­tume at every game – what a cool gig.”

Dean Davenport, Ferris State’s ath­letic direc­tor at the time, also approached Marzano and Blied about con­tin­u­ing their game-night antics. At one point, their pic­ture was splashed across the cover of the Bulldog Hockey game program.

“We became a fix­ture. When the oppos­ing team was intro­duced to the crowd, we would direct the singing of ‘God Bless America’ and drown-out the pub­lic address,” Blied said. “Or, we would pass out news­pa­pers and when they intro­duced the other team no one paid atten­tion and had their noses buried in newsprint.”

There’s Something Special About Bulldog Hockey And How It Jump-Starts The Campus

Their rou­tine mor­phed to include the hang­ing of a rub­ber chicken from the rafters. Fishing line was tied around a ten­nis ball, thrown over one of the iron beams and the slo­gan “SIEVE” was dis­played to taunt the enemy goal­tender. Doctors Blied and Marzano would also peruse the stands in search of a “patient” and would basi­cally make a human sand­wich out of their will­ing vic­tim. Professor Emeritus Doug Heeter, founder of the Ferris Blueline Club, was a favorite target.

“We’d fall on oppos­ing fans, give them CPR, lis­ten to their feet and say they had no sole (sic). There was even one guy from the University of Michigan who would give us the eye and say ‘co me and get me,” Marzano chuckled.

Blied con­curred with the play­ful irrev­er­ence of that period and how every­one seemed to enjoy their goofy behavior.

“There was such good humor back then. The laws of civil­ity were in play where things couldn’t get out of hand and peo­ple would not be offended. We def­i­nitely pushed the enve­lope, but we never crossed the line.”

The Doctors have since taken long jour­neys away from their alma mater and have ful­filled their lives with fam­ily and busi­ness. Marzano, after grad­u­at­ing in 1984 with a degree in Hospitality Management, trav­eled around the coun­try for 20 years, with stops along the way in Texas, Chicago, back to Michigan, Oklahoma, St. Louis and Wisconsin; all in hospitality-related jobs. Blied, a 1983 Business Administration grad­u­ate, enlisted with the U.S. Air Force in 1984 where he became a pilot and achieved the rank of Major. After 22 years of active duty, the dec­o­rated Persian Gulf War vet­eran went to work for American Airlines and is still fly­ing inter­na­tion­ally out of Chicago today.

“It’s the great­est job in the world and it reminds me about what is fan­tas­tic about Ferris,” Blied said. “It really pre­pared me for work­ing in the real world. It was a hands-on type of edu­ca­tion with a unique mix of fac­ulty with expe­ri­ence in their field. You get a lot more bang for your buck as a Bulldog!”

Some Sound Advice From Another Doctor

Blied and Marzano were par­tic­u­larly affected by a pep talk they received from the very man the ice arena is named for – President Emeritus Robert Ewigleben. Twice the Doctors lunched with Dr. Ewigleben, first at McDonald’s and later at the old Best Western. He was one of their top sup­port­ers and left quite an impression.

“He made us real­ize that when we go out into the work­ing world we are more than just col­lege grad­u­ates because we are Ferris grad­u­ates,” Blied said. “He said to be sure you act proudly about your edu­ca­tion and rep­re­sent your uni­ver­sity because it is judged by how well you do and how you carry yourselves.”

The Doctors were also invited to attend a Bulldog Hockey awards ban­quet to receive spe­cial recog­ni­tion from the Blueline Club in the form of “hon­orary med­ical degrees.” Unfortunately, both showed up in suit and tie and were imme­di­ately chased home and asked to return wear­ing their doc­tor duds.