A Canadien In The House Of Orr
I know, I know,
just give me a chance to explain.
The first time I
saw Guy Lafleur play was in March of 1975 against the Bruins at the Garden. My
older brother had introduced me to Lafleur through a game we used to play using
my hockey cards. We’d spread the cards out on the living room carpet and take
turns drafting all-star teams. There were no winners or losers; the fun was in
the drafting. Not knowing many of the players, I’d just take as many Bruins as
I could before the guessing would start. But I noticed Jimmy kept selecting the
blonde-haired right-winger for the Montreal Canadiens with his first pick. When
I asked him why, he explained that Guy Lafleur was the best player available
(obviously, I didn’t have Bobby Orr’s card at the time). So I knew, going into
the Garden on that Saturday afternoon, to keep an eye on number 10 in red.
During warm ups,
my attention, as usual, was trained mostly on Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Johnny
Bucyk and the rest of the hometown Bruins. But I couldn’t help being distracted
by what was going on at the other end of the arena. There was just something
about the Montreal Canadiens and those iconic bleu, blanc et rouge uniforms
(in those days, the visiting team wore their dark sweaters [and yes, they
called them “sweaters”]). As much as I loved the Black and Gold, those Montreal
uniforms were the most magnificent I’d ever seen.
The following
season, the Canadiens would go on the most dominant 4-year run in NHL history,
and the core members of that team were on Garden ice that day; there was Ken
Dryden in net, Guy Lapointe and Larry Robinson on defense, Jacques Lemaire and
Yvan Cournoyer up front. And then there was number 10, Guy Lafleur.
While Bobby Orr
was the master at starting and stopping, accelerating and changing direction,
Lafleur seemed to glide in straight, exquisite lines, his blonde hair flying
back as if he were driving a convertible with the top down. He was utterly
mesmerizing. That day, I decided that, while I worshipped Bobby Orr, I wanted
to be Guy Lafleur.
It must be
mentioned here—and probably should have been mentioned earlier—that I have
never been, and never will be, a Montreal Canadiens fan. The final score that
day was 2-2. Orr
and Lafleur each scored a goal, but I was not happy with a tie. I wanted the Bruins to win. I didn’t know it then, but I was witnessing
Bobby Orr’s last great season, and Guy Lafleur’s first. Lafleur would be no
friend to the Bruins, creating a complex challenge for me as a fan.
And so began
this strange paradox of rooting for a player on a team I respected, but
ultimately despised. Of course, my father didn’t get it. How can you cheer
for a guy who plays for your team’s fiercest rival? He had this rule that
said, Whenever there’s a game that does not involve the Bruins, you’re supposed
to support the team closest to your own city, geographically. Still, I never
saw him root for a team from Canada, even if the Canadian team was playing the
LA Kings, or the Flames, who were in Atlanta at the time. I guess his loyalties
began in the Northeast and branched out over the rest of the Continental United
States, but never crossed the border. I never rooted for a team from Canada
either, but starting that season, whenever the Bruins played the Canadiens, I
hoped for a Guy Lafleur hat trick and a 4-3 Boston win (It was even more
complicated for my best friend, Mike, who was a Bruins fan with Ken Dryden as
his favorite player. Try rooting for your team to win while hoping the other
team’s goalie doesn’t give up any goals).
Lafleur and the
Canadiens made it very difficult for me and every other Bruins fan during those
early Post-Orr-Era seasons. They had absolutely no weaknesses. They had the
best goalie in Dryden, the best forward in Lafleur and the best trio of
defensemen in Lapointe, Robinson and Serge Savard. The Bruins would lose to the
Canadiens in the Stanley Cup Finals in 1977 and 1978. The worst loss, however,
came in the seventh game of the 1979 semifinals when Lafleur scored the
famous—or infamous—too-many-men-on-the-ice goal late in the third period to
send the game into overtime and an eventual Montreal win (Still the hardest,
most accurate in-game shot I’ve ever seen. Look it up on YouTube, the puck gets
by Gilles Gilbert so quickly it literally knocks him off balance...I’m not happy
about it, just admiring it). Looking back, it’s still hard to believe how close
the Bruins came to beating them. The hurt from that loss stung for weeks, and I
can still remember some of the kids at school giving me looks that said, What
are you upset about? He’s your favorite player.
There
were issues in the neighborhood as well. In street hockey, while choosing
sides, everyone was always quick to claim that he was Bobby Orr ( yes, even
after he was gone to Chicago) or Phil Esposito. Sometimes, arguments ensued.
But no one protested when I started saying that I was Guy Lafleur. In fact, as
one of the younger players, the normal beatings only intensified. “Oh, you’re
Guy Lafleur? Well, how’s about a nice two-hander to the shins?” Lafleur was not
popular in my neighborhood.
This is starting
to sound like I’m building a case against idolizing Guy Lafleur. But I
loved watching him play. The French fans called him Le Dėmon Blond (The
Blonde Demon), a far more appealing moniker than the English-speaking fans' "The Flower". He was an amazing offensive player, so fluid and smooth, and he
looked great, too, flying down the right wing, a flash of red and blue, firing
pucks into the net. As much as Bobby Orr dominated the first half of the 1970s,
Guy Lafleur owned the second half, scoring 50 goals and 100 points in six
straight seasons.
I carried on
with this illicit sports affair for several seasons, right up until Lafleur’s
retirement in 1985. Then, three seasons later, he came back. I’ve always
frowned upon professional athletes un-retiring themselves (Mario Lemieux is the
exception since his first retirement was due to serious health issues). Michael
Jordan did it twice (under very different circumstances), Gordie Howe did it
several times and Brett Favre turned it into an annual made-for-television ESPN
event. The worst part about Lafleur’s comeback, however, is that he didn’t
return as a Canadien, but as a New York Ranger, and then he re-retired as a
Quebec Nordique.
I guess I just
like things neat and clean and easy to categorize. Bobby Orr as a Bruin. Guy
Lafleur as a Canadien. As an analytical person, I appreciate and value
decisiveness in others. Unfortunately, life and sports can be complicated. People change their minds and move around all the time (Perhaps one day I'll write about my top nine relationships with women). Impermanence can be
disappointing and frustrating for someone like me. Guy Lafleur is one of my
all-time favorite athletes. To me, he will always be a Montreal Canadien, and I
will always be a Boston Bruins fan. How’s that for neat and clean and easy to
categorize?
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