Showing posts with label Brushes with Habness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brushes with Habness. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Brushes with Habness - Guy Lapointe

Brushes With Habness is a feature on FHF, wherein we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

I went to university in Ottawa. (Go Gee-Gees!) Like a lot of university students, I needed a part-time job to scrape together enough money for wings and beer and possibly textbooks if there was enough left over. In my third year, a buddy of mine got me a job with the Ottawa 67's. And that's where I met one Guy Lapointe.

A six-time Cup winner with the Habs, Pointu was the least celebrated of the "Big Three" of Larry Robinson, Serge Savard and Lapointe on the juggernaut 70's Habs. Robinson won multiple Norris trophies and dominated with his size, shot, and fists; Savard was the regal Senator with the spinerama, the first defender to win the Conn Smythe; but Lapointe was a four-time all-star, holds the Habs single season record for goals by a defenceman with 28 and was probably the most complete defender of the three. After his playing days, Lapointe got into scouting and was doing just that at a 67's game back in 1995 when I decided it was time to meet a Habs legend.

See, at those 67's games, we sold programs. Easy job, easy money, and we were told to knock off and count the money midway through the game, so we got to see a lot of hockey. Since the 67's never drew enough to fill the over 9,000 seat Civic Centre, we could pretty well sit where ever we wanted. My buddy Derek used to like to sit high up in the corners, "where the scouts sit" so we could "see everything develop." Well, one evening we wandered into the corner and saw Lapointe, notebook in hand watching the 67's battle the Bulls or Frontenacs or Generals or whomever.

Now, I'm not an autograph seeker by any stretch of the imagination, but growing up in a Habs household I was well versed in the awesomeness of the 1970's Canadiens. This was an autograph that, at the very least, would make a cool present for my Dad. I was apprehensive about approaching Lapointe, since the man was working, but after seeing a steady stream of people getting signatures, I headed down to the souvenir stand for something that Lapointe could scratch his name on. I was thinking a puck.

Some history before we proceed: Before local boy made good Jeff Hunt purchased the 67's and ramped the marketing, in-game experience and professionalism of the organization up to acceptable levels, the Barber Poles were a pretty sad-sack front office. The previous owner was a nice man but cheap, and he hung on to a lot of employees well past their time. The marketing department was a shambles, and the team was taking it on the chin after the recent arrival of the Sens. The in-game DJ doubled as the mascot, so he made a mixed CD and had his wife hit play and pause during the game while he worked the crowd. You could tell time by what song was playing. It was sad. The souvenir selection was on a par with the rest of the place, meaning there were no souvenir pucks for the precious Lapointe signature. I sheepishly approached a Hall-of-Fame defenceman from one of hockey's greatest dynasties with what seemed a comically over sized Montreal Canadiens pennant.

I got my autograph from a brusque Lapointe (after all, he was working, and who knows how many autographs he had signed by this, the middle of the second period). It looked kinda silly, a two inch scrawl on such a large piece of cloth. Luckily I was able to add some more colour to the pennant hanging in a place of honour above my Dad's basement bar a little later that same year ... but that's a Brushes with Habness for another day.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Brushes with Habness - John LeClair

Tim Hortons not exactly as shown. You get the gist.

Brushes With Habness is a feature on FHF, wherein we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

So as the "About Four Habs Fans" sidebar says, I'm the FHF who "somehow grew up a Habs fan in the middle of Ontario Cottage Country". My Brushes With Habness are a little more random than the rest of the FHF, who grew up in the city our beloved Canadiens lived and worked. Mine tend to be Brushes With Former Habness, or, if you like, I could start a whole new summer filler series called Brushes With NHLness, since Muskoka is a summer playground for both the Hall of Fame bound (Paul Coffey once asked my sister to dance ... while she was waiting tables! Steve Yzerman goes to the local butcher for burgers!) to the shoulda-coulda-woulda been Hall of Fame bound (Eric Lindros used to hang out on the patio at the old Edenvale Inn!) to the not-even-close to Hall of Fame bound (hey, is that Nelson Emerson and Nick Stadjuhar over by the bar? WTF?)

Anyway, the big news back in the day when Lindros was at the height of his powers was his purchase of a cottage in Muskoka. As a general rule, the people of Muskoka try and show some restraint when the likes of Martin Short, Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell wander into town for some hot dog buns or a new canoe paddle, but in the mid 90's, a random Eric Lindros citing sent people apeshit. Well, one morning I noticed a big commotion in the parking lot at the Tim Hortons and was breathlessly informed that the man himself was grabbing a coffee. Now, since I was of drinking age and regularly saw The Big E and his equally massive brother (and friends) out on the resort drinking circuit, I wasn't about to hang around for a glimpse of the guy carrying his double double to his car. But when I rounded the corner towards the Mac's Convenience store beside Tim Hortons, this Habs fan was stopped cold. There, sitting in the driver's seat of what I remember as a Jeep Cherokee reading the paper and no doubt waiting for his cruller was former Habs winger and current and future Habs-killer John LeClair. Two-thirds of the Legion of Doom in the parking lot of the Tim Hortons Plaza in Bracebridge, but only one was a Cup-winning former Hab.

So yeah, this Brush with Habness was fleeting, and bittersweet. But still. It's a long offseason and there's nary a large Swedish centre to be found.


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The return of summer filler: Brushes with Habness - Toe Blake

I was going through the old archives for no reason except to realize how much we used to suck [ed. note: yeah right, "used to"] and came across all sorts of stuff we used to do in the summer to fill time. They have returned. To remind you, or for the noobs, Brushes With Habness is a feature begun two summers ago on FHF, wherein we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Mmm, that's good filler.

I grew up down the street from Toe Blake. This was during his retirement years, but he lived no more than a 30-second bike ride from my childhood home. I never met him. We were warned not to go to his house at Hallowe'en so as not to disturb him. I used to use his side lawn to sneak on to the golf course behind his house late at night. There was also a park across the street from his house which was named for him after he died. I used to play the classic 3-person baseball game "running bases" there. The park is so small it doesn't even appear on this map.

Thrilling, huh? Come back for more crappy summer filler soon.

Monday, September 01, 2008

(Almost) Brushes With (Almost) Habness

Don't recognize either of these people or any link to the Habs? You're not the only one.

As the biography to the right mentions, I am the Habs Fan stuck in the middle of the Red Mile. Since I'm so far from Montreal, my brushes with Habsness are now likely to be second hand. This one occurred at my wife's family reunion.

Mrs. Panger is originally from Edmonton, born to French Canadian parents. In good Catholic French-Canadian fashion, they have a combined 11 siblings and huge extended families. I love my wife - and her family - but asking me to keep her extended family straight is beyond me. So unbeknownst to me when I wooed my fair bride, it turns out that one of her cousins has a link to the Canadiens: my father-in-law's first cousin is Yvon. His son, Brent, was if not famous, at least a infamous one-time member of the Montreal Canadiens organization. Yvon and Brent's last name happens to be Bilodeau. Yes, I'm related to that Brent Bilodeau.

Now, finding out you have a second-cousin by marriage who was a firsr round pick of the Habs is exciting, since it's as close as I'm going to get to being part of the Canadiens organization. I found this information particularly funny because before I knew we were related, Brent Bilodeau was a personal whipping boy of mine, as a symbol of all that was wrong with the 80s/90s era Canadiens (specifically their drafting). Apart from '84 and '93, the Habs did not draft an impact player in the first round during that era. A 6'4 defensive defenceman projected to go in the top 5 in '91, Bilodeau turned out to be one of two of those picks that had the distinction of never playing a single game anywhere in the NHL. Although Brent had a fairly lengthy minor-league career and is now an assistant coach in the ECHL, I talked to his dad about his NHL (non) career. While Yvon didn't go into specifics, he cited what I'll call "internal team politics" as the major reason for Brent's failure to reach the NHL. Shockingly, he didn't mention how Brent skated like a donkey in mud.

Although Brent himself was not at this northern Alberta family reunion, I am proud to say I got to babysit his adorable, platinum blond niece and nephew (his sister Brandy's kids). I was also sexually assaulted by Penny, his mom - although admitted it was due to a case of mistaken identity (thankfully Brent comes from an attractive family). Bilodeau now lives in Vegas with his wife Cass, herself a 6'4 former WNBA player, where the couple is raising their 2-year-old twins, Tyler and Jacob. The twins may already be taller than me.

Of course, now that I know we're related, my new whipping boy is Alain Heroux (the other first rounder who never saw NHL ice). Brent got screwed - Heroux really sucked.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Brushes with Habness - Dave Manson Screams Like a Little Girl

Brushes With Habness is a feature began last summer on FHF, wherein we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start. Mindless filler week has begun!

So as we reported last year, Dad was a doctor. Dad was an ear, nose, and throat man (an otorhinolaryngologist for all you medical types) and was listed as one of the official doctors for the Canadiens (one of hundreds, it's not like he was so special). Also, as a Jew, Dad always volunteered to be on call for the department on Christmas. These facts are important to this mindless filler.

These facts are important because on December 25, 1996, Dad was called into the hospital on an emergency. He gets to the ER and finds his patient, one Dave Manson of the Montreal Canadiens. Now you'll be forgiven if you don't remember Dave Manson. Well, unless you lived in Montreal, Winnipeg, Toronto, Chicago, Edmonton, Dallas, or one of the other 400 NHL cities he played in. He was a serviceable defenseman and first round draft pick who once had 50+ points and 350+ PIM for Chicago in one season. We seem to recall him quite fondly from his time with the Habs.

So Dad asks Dave Manson what's up, and the nurse hands Dad an x-ray. Dave has somehow managed to have a pine needle from a christmas tree lodged in his ear canal. Now, Dad never asked how it got in there, but I like to think Dave had some sort of weird ear sex fetish. ANYWAY, Dad says "it's really buried pretty deep in there, this might hurt a bit. Do you want some sort of anaesthetic or painkiller?" Dave, tough guy hockey player, of course says no. Dad grabs the medical equivalent of long-nosed pliers, starts digging around the ear canal and as soon as he penetrated an inch or two, Dave starts screaming like a little girl. After a couple of minutes of careful digging, Dad managed to remove the needle without damaging the eardrum or any important hearing-related anatomy. Dad reported later Dave screamed through the whole thing. Wuss.

Tomorrow on FHF - Dad removes a gerbil from Stéphane Richer's ass

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Brushes With Habness - Dick Irvin (Jr.)

Brushes With Habness is a new feature here on FHF, where we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

To me, there was never a better hockey announcer than Dick Irvin. He could do it all: play-by-play on TV, play-by-play on radio, colour man, studio host, whatever. He could probably operate a TV camera if he had to. The ultimate pro. The anti-Bob Cole. Luckily, I met him once, and he didn't disappoint.

So my cousin was chairman of the board of McClelland & Stewart publishing, and this secured me an invite to a party in Montreal celebrating M&S's Quebec-based authors. Mr. Irvin was there promoting the book you see above. I was so nervous to even approach him, I had such man-love for the guy, but my mom dragged me over. He couldn't have been nicer. Class all the way.

I told him about the way it felt like he was talking to me when he would say, at the beginning of his radio broadcasts, "The Canadiens are skating from right to left on your radio dial, and on your television screen (emphasis in original), for those of you enjoying the game that way, watching their video and listening to our audio." That was me! I was doing that! (p.s. it's not because I didn't understand French, I do, it's just that Mr. irvin was so good. Now I do the opposite, turning off Bob Cole if it's Saturday night and turning on CKAC on the radio.) He smiled and said thanks, and thanks for listening. And he signed my book, which I still have.

There really isn't much point to this story except that Mr. Irvin is one hell of a classy guy. Like most of the Habs family.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Brushes with Habness - Ric Nattress


Brushes With Habness is a new feature here on FHF, where we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

Yeah, that's right. Ric Nattress.

Now, some of you may remember ol' Ric as a Flame getting railroaded (ahem, ELBOWED) by Mark Messier and making Don Cherry's Rock Em Sock Em tapes as he wobbled back to the bench. You may remember him joining the Leafs as part of the huge Doug Gilmour/Gary Leeman trade, or as Jaime Macoun's stunt double. You may not know that he was a Habs draftee, or that we once got drunk together. But it's true.

Bracebridge, Ontario, summer, mid-1990's. At my buddy's cottage, drinking before hitting the bar. Our friend Rob is meeting us there after finishing up his round of golf ... (insert your own "nice life you rich Ontarians are leading" comment here) but mentions he's bringing along one of his playing partners. Someone's nephew. Some hockey player.

Group mindset at the cottage: "Great, some Junior A dickhead to babysit through the night. Evening ruined as we make sure Mr. Hockey Hotshot doesn't get thrown out a window by locals."

Cottage door swings open. In steps Rob with the very large, very mustachioed, very much older than us hockey player, the recently retired Ric Nattress. Former Leaf, Flyer, Flame, Blue and Canadien Ric Nattress. Much strangeness ensues.

Now, this sort of thing is a little awkward. We all knew who Ric Nattress was, what with most of the guys in the cottage being Leaf fans. And while "Ric Nattress" isn't the first name out of your mouth when someone says "name a former NHL player", he's still a former NHL player. Everyone tried to keep cool as the introductions went around the room, because c'mon, it's Ric Nattress ... but on the other hand, we've all been drinking and it's Ric Freakin Nattress, man!

Turns out, Ric is a great guy. He settled into a chair, had a beer and started answering goofy questions. He showed us a fake Stanley Cup ring he claims he got in 1989 with the Flames (funny, I must have missed that ... can't remember a thing about that year.) He told us about rooming with Guy Lafleur as a rookie, and finding a crate of cigarettes on his bed the day after Guy asked him if he wanted some freebies. He talked about the time Guy was so loaded/hungover at practice no one could stand beside him because of the smell. He told us he thought Messier was the dirtiest player in the league. He forgave my friend Tim (still bitter about the inept Leafs D in the 93' semifinal against the Kings) for continually referring to Jaime Macoun as "JAIME FUCKING MACOUN!!!". And when we got to the bar, beer kept materializing on the table courtesy of the big, friendly mustachioed fella. I think if we had ended up in one of the night-ending brawls our local watering hole was famous for, Ric would have put us all in a bear hug and carried us to safety. Yes, Ric wasn't a Hab for long, but the greatness of Les Glorieux certainly rubbed off on him.

Stay tuned for our next mindless filler edition of Brushes with Habness, as HF29 talks about the time his Dad told him Dave Manson screams like a little girl, or HF10 waxes poetic about seeing John LeClair in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

Jesus, how much longer til the puck drops?

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Brushes With Habness: Guy Lafleur's Uncle Part 2 - You Gotta Marinate!

Brushes With Habness is a new feature here on FHF, where we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

So yesterday I regaled you with the fine taste of moose meat. But there's more. While the moose was delicious, it was pretty tough. Serious steak knives required. So when Guy Lafleur's uncle asked my dad how the moose was, my dad honestly told him it tasted great, but was a little tough. Well, that was sad news for Guy Lafleur's uncle. He asked my dad how we cooked it. My dad said we threw some spices on it and tossed it on the BBQ. Guy Lafleur's uncle said "Mais non! You have to marinate it!" and proceeded to give my dad many tips on marinating. Then he sent us more steaks to try again. We marinated this time, and the moose was delicious AND tender. Like I said yesterday, true story. You can't make this shit up.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Brushes With Habness - Guy Lafleur's Uncle

Brushes With Habness is a new feature here on FHF, where we, the FHF, tell you riveting stories about our brushes with Habs and people in the Habs family. Basically, some filler while we wait for the damn season to start.

I once ate moose killed by Guy Lafleur's uncle. Seriously. My dad was a doctor, and Guy Lafleur's uncle was one of his patients. After some surgery, Mr. Lafleur gave my dad a present - some moose steaks from a moose he had killed personally. We had some for dinner. It was delicious. True story. You couldn't make this shit up.