Yesterday, Bob Gainey stepped down from his position as the Canadiens General Manager after a tumultuous six-year tenure. Predictably, this move has sent the multitude of local media into a mouth-frothing tizzy. Well, you know what they say about opinions, like that certain part of the anatomy, everyone’s got one. In this city, there are some with more than one.
Montreal loves its team, at least you’d think that was the case. Unfortunately it seems that you can’t be an analyst of the Habs unless you can find something wrong with the players, the management, the ownership, the guy who washes the towels and Youppi.
There are an absurd number of panel shows staffed by self-proclaimed experts and insiders who spend most of their time wailing like a gaggle of screaming banshees, ranting on about the skills, abilities and language of any given player. Like any one of these wild-eyed hacks could last three seconds in an NHL game, let alone manage a hockey franchise with the distinguished history and passionate fan base as the Montreal Canadiens.
That is not to say there are not some brilliant hockey minds out there, as well as sports reporters who are intelligent enough to side-step the hype and let the story be told. Sadly, they are few and far between.
Allow me to get my cardigan, slippers and pipe so I can tell you about my fondest hockey memory. I grew up as a fan of the Canadiens which began in the early seventies. My family would sit around the TV on Saturday night and watch the Habs on Hockey Night in Canada. Danny Gallivan made the call as those now legendary names charged over the blue line. Henri Richard, Yvon Cornoyer, Serge Savard, Steve Shutt and the unforgettable Guy Lafleur. We shouted and cheered and chewed our nails off as Ken Dryden kicked and grabbed at flying pucks, Larry Robinson slammed opposing players into the boards, Bob Gainey back-checked then skillfully moved the puck ahead. Win or lose, as the credits rolled at the end of the telecast the television was turned off. Tomorrow was another day.
In 1979 I had the rare opportunity of seeing a game at the old Forum with seats right down at ice level. As was often the case, it was the father of a friend who had got tickets through his work. My friend and I sat on the edge of our seats watching the warm up with wide-eyed facsincation as the legendary Canadiens glided past, effortlessly snapping shots and sliding laser-like passes back and forth. For a young fan, the sights and sounds were intoxicating. The puck pinging off a goal post, the deep thud from Dryden's pads, the sharp crack on the boards, the solid ‘tock’ as it hit the blade of a stick, the ‘rasp-rasp’ of steel on ice, the growing thrum of the crowd.
As if this were not enough, a moment I will never forget. Bob Gainey, Larry Robinson and Guy Lafleur paused to stand together just a few feet in front of us. There, on the other side of the glass, three iconic hockey heroes.
In the near forty years I have cheered for this team, that moment stands above all others. Why? Because it was pure and simple and everything that being a fan of any team is all about. To have heroes who elevate us above our mundane, every-day lives, to help us set higher standards for ourselves. To see a person use all of their skills and abilities to excel, which in turn gives us inspiration to at least try to do the same in whatever we do.
Today I’m not in the mood to discuss trade deadlines, salary caps and arbitration, plus-minuses and all the other flotsam that seems to permeate every single discussion of the game of hockey today. I will say that I believe Bob Gainey when he says that he tried his best, and I for one am in no position to judge if his best was good enough. As a fan who watched him play, I know he gave his all and that kind of passion just doesn’t go away. Like it or not, he did it his way and let the chips fall. Which is why for me he was and still is a hero of the game, and we are all fortunate to have him.
Thanks again, Bob.
No comments:
Post a Comment