TAMPA, Florida – There are special moments we experience in life and you remember ever intricate detail long after they take place. It might involve a long-sought achievement, meeting someone famous or having the opportunity to do something a small group of people get to do.
Fifteen years ago, I did something millions of people dream about their entire life, but never get close to experiencing. In my case, it remains one of the top three moments of my life. It is fun to share, especially during Stanley Cup Season.
Let me set the stage. It is June 1996 and the National Hockey League is holding their annual Entry Draft in St. Louis, my city of residence. The Colorado Avalanche had just won the Stanley Cup and this is the first time their scouts from throughout the world have assembled in one place since winning it. Unlike the heat and humidity in the Gateway City that day, what you are about to read is the exact opposite of the weather that day. This moment was pretty cool.
You should know I am blessed to have a small group of friends. We have known each other since we were seven years old. Our families have been pretty close too and truthfully, I think of them like family. It was common we included each other in special moments.
The mother of one of my buddies was the administrative right-hand to former St. Louis Blues General Manager Ron Caron when he joined the team in 1983. After she left the hockey team years later, the family remained very close friends and still stay in close contact with him in Montreal.
For this night, Pierre Lacroix, Mr. Caron’s counterpart in Colorado, asked for help finding a place for his scouting and coaching group to convene and celebrate their recent title. Mr. Caron was knowledgeable of where the finer restaurants existed and arranged a private gathering at an Italian restaurant in the famous Hill section of St. Louis.
Pierre asked Mr. Caron to invite some of his friends and I was included and asked to bring a date. I had just begun dating a woman and without telling her the details, indicated we were going to have dinner somewhere on the Hill at a fine Italian restaurant.
That night, as soon as we arrived and walked in, there was Stanley in the corner, elegantly set on a circular platform all alone and a distance from the rest of the tables. Like anything of significance you rarely see, it drew my attention and while compelled to walk closer to it, I was mindful that we were guests of someone else’s party and appropriately walked directly to our table. I remember my hands trembling as we walked passed the trophy.
Across the room, but near Stanley, it intrigued me that two guardians were assigned to hockey’s Holy Grail. It isn’t so much that I was surprised, but it was just interesting to see so much attention and care applied. Craig Campbell and Phil Pritchard from the Hockey Hall of Fame were attired each in a navy blazer with the HHOF patch embroidered on the left pocket and their white, linen gloves very close by. Little by little it was really starting to sink in that this was going to be a special night.
The Avalanche executives, scouts and coaching staff would be sitting at a u-shaped layout of table in the center of the dining room. A half-dozen smaller tables where we were to be seated were off to one side.
As team personnel began to arrive, I recognized Head Coach Marc Crawford, Assistant Coach Joel Quenneville, Goaltending Coach Jacques Cloutier and Director of Player Personnel Michel Goulet among others. They had just returned from a day of selecting young talent in the draft.
Several minutes after everyone arrived, Pierre Lacroix had Dom Perignon ordered for everyone and proposed a toast. The room full of people numbering thirty or so raised their glass and Pierre began to speak.
He offered thanks to the scouting staff for their ability to identify talent worth drafting and for their suggestions in which free agents to pursue earlier in the year. He also thanked them for their efforts scouting at the professional level so that trades could be made to improve the team and win a Championship.
He then thanked the coaching staff for their masterful work in taking the talent acquired and their assembling players to compete in the franchise’s new home base of Denver. He then specifically mentioned how difficult it was to make such a transition from Quebec City and in spite of the challenges, end their first year in Colorado by winning the Championship.
Lastly, he thanked everyone else in the room for joining them to celebrate the franchise’s proudest moment up to that point and closed his toast by making clear the team would win more Championships.
After dinner, we spent time introducing ourselves to Avalanche personnel, talking about the draft selections they made earlier in the day and having conversations about things other than hockey.
Thirty minutes later, someone decided the Colorado staffs should pose for pictures with Stanley. How cool it was to see the excitement in the faces of those who had never been close to the Cup let alone win it. It was a first-time achievement for all of them and it seemed to reduce these grown men to kids with their giddiness around the trophy.
Then the unthinkable happened. They asked us if we wanted to have our photo taken with Stanley.
I am not sure why, but I felt very awkward about it. It caught me completely off guard. I thought about how these men worked many years to get to this point and celebrate a long-awaited title.
I thought about how they made great sacrifices and performed extraordinarily during the season. They certainly deserved this opportunity. I on the other hand did not. It was right for them to have their photo taken with it. I simply wasn’t worthy of such an experience. I mean seriously, think about it for a minute.
I was very grateful to be invited, but all I did was bring a date for a free meal. In 1996, I was a 5’7” goaltender playing on several recreational teams in St. Louis. My goals against average resembled that of a high Richter scale reading and my future was not going to include Stanley and me on the ice together in this lifetime.
If I accomplished anything at all that night, it was that I finished everything on my plate at dinner. But they told me to get up there anyway and have my picture taken with Stanley so I played along.
With trepidation, my date and I rose to our feet and walked toward the table where Stanley was resting. My hands were trembling and my voice began to quiver as I spoke. A lump in my throat formed and I found myself fumbling over what to do or say.
Finally getting some measure of control, I began to look at the names of the teams and players on the trophy. I began searching out for those names I remembered as a kid, reading them one by one out loud starting at the top and then working my way to the bottom.
I remarked about strikeouts being made over misspelled names during the original imprint. I noticed names of players that I had not realized had ever won a Championship. I looked atop Stanley inside the original bowl and did not realize some of the teams ever existed. This went on for awhile and I am certain I must have looked like a fool. Being around Stanley tends to cause this behavior.
Finally, my buddy told me to lift it over my head and I immediately thought he must be trying to get me in trouble with Stanley’s caretakers. John Paul Frisella does have a long history of getting people in trouble doing these types of things. I mean who am I to touch it? I have no business doing that.
I considered that any sudden move toward the trophy would trigger lethal moves by Craig and Phil. Those HHOF guys look nice and all on television, but I am pretty sure they have a sharp edge if pushed too far in the wrong direction.
Within a few seconds, they nodded in approval that it was all right to give Stanley a lift over my head. Shocked, but delighted, I did not know what to do next, how to grab it or handle it. After all, Stanley is pretty bulky and not light by any means.
I reached with my left hand for the edge at the top bowl first, tilted it to one side so that I could grab the edge of the base with my right hand and then lifted the Stanley Cup over my head from right to left. Then SNAP, the photo was taken.
Wow, what a feeling, a chance of a lifetime and one that still gives me chills when I think about it. At that moment, it dawned on me that Gordie, Henri, Patrick, Mario, Wayne and I shared something in common.
Now, let me make a few things clear.
The year was 1996 and for some reason, plaid was a pattern that was socially acceptable, or at least so I thought. I am still asked to this day when people see this photo just where did I set my bagpipe down so that I could handle the Cup. Today, I would not be caught dead in that shirt.
Secondly, that was my third date with the woman in the photo. What a way to impress her. She liked hockey, but to a much lesser degree than me. We went on a few dates after this and five months to the day after this photo was taken, I asked her to marry me. Shockingly, she accepted (but only after I got rid of that plaid shirt). One year to the day after we were engaged, we were married and we live in Ballwin, Missouri with our nine-year old daughter, Mara.
Lastly, a lot of other hockey-related things have changed since that night in June 1996. I still skate as many as five times a week, but the quickness has slowed a bit. The aches and pains last a little longer, too.
Although I still have all of my hair, it has not yet fallen victim to the infamous “goalie receding hairline” condition, which is so common. My hair is a bit grayer, though, and my reflexes aren’t what they used to be. My best split saves, pad stacks and poke checks are better played out in my imagination than on the ice these days.
But that’s all right. We can all dream of a time when we believed we might have a shot a lifting the cup over our heads. In a few days, there are a group of men whose dream of celebrating a pro hockey Championship at the highest level will come true. They will lift the Stanley Cup over the heads for all to see.
Whether they wear the uniform of the Tampa Bay Lightning or the Chicago Blackhawks, they deserve all the good fortune they get in winning their final playoff game. God love them for they worked long and hard to achieve their goal.
Oh yes, there is one last thing. I referenced giving Stanley a lift was one of the top three moments in my life and I am betting you want to know what those other two top moments are. Well you should know they are the day I married my wife and the day our daughter was born, but sorry, I am not telling you in which order they rank.
Follow me on Twitter at DMMORRELL and Cup coverage at #PHN2015STANLEYCUPFINAL
You must be logged in to post a comment.