
By @MichaelCaples –
When I was 19 years old, I was lucky enough to land an internship with the Detroit Red Wings.
I’ll never forget my first day on the job.
My new boss – Bill Roose, the managing editor of DetroitRedWings.com – welcomed me down to his office for a 3 p.m. Sunday afternoon game between the Red Wings and the Predators.
Mr. Roose told me I would be writing the game recap that day – you know, the one that appears on the official site of the Detroit Red Wings after the contest.
No big deal, right? I was sweating bullets from the moment he gave me the instructions.
At the time, it was one of the scariest moments of my life.
Bill – I only used the ‘Mr. Roose’ label once because he doesn’t like it – had a big couch in his office, the place we affectionately referred to as ‘Club Roose.’ That’s where, from time to time, one of the interns would end up stationed, so that we could see the TV or because we ran out of chairs.
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I was on that couch when Gordie Howe strolled in.
See, Bill produced Gordie’s ‘No. 9’ book – you know, the one with the nine on the cover that looks and feels like it came right off the back of a Red Wings jersey. Whenever he was in town, Gordie and other members of the Mr. Hockey entourage would make their way to his office.
After a while, I got used to it. It even became a highlight – days when Gordie and Co. stopped by were awesome.
The first time, however, was a different story.
Gordie plopped down on the couch right next to me.
Sure, I had “met” him before. Lots of young hockey fans across Michigan had the pleasure to do so, due to Mr. Hockey’s accommodating and incredibly friendly nature.
But I never thought that I would just be…chilling on the couch with the hockey legend.
Can’t believe I didn’t pass out. Still can’t believe I didn’t pass out.
I like to think that I played it cool and handled myself well in the situation. Nobody’s ever told me otherwise, at least. I don’t remember all of it, because the excitement and the nervousness were almost too much to bear.
What I do remember, however, will likely line up with all the other stories you have heard today. The stories are that much more moving, and that much more special, when you know they are true, and not just publicity stunts or marketing ploys.
Mr. Hockey was the real deal. He was a remarkable man, and he left an incredible impression on me in a matter of moments.
Why? He had questions for me, and he actually cared about the answers.
I told him about school, about how it was my first day, about how excited I was to be here and my love for the sport…at least I think. Who knows, I could have babbled like an idiot for a while – would you have blamed me?
Somehow I still managed to write the game recap that day (if you want to see the heavily edited version – thanks Bill – you can click here). It was a 1-0 overtime thriller, with Johan Franzen scoring the winner and in the process breaking one of Gordie’s records on a day where Hockeytown celebrated his 80th birthday.
A few years later, I printed out said game recap, and asked Gordie to sign it for me during one of his visits. The signed copy is framed and hanging by the front door of my apartment. This business can be physically draining, but whenever I need a boost when I’m leaving for work, I look at the autograph and remember how excited and terrified I was to meet Gordie that first time.
I’ve met a lot of athletes since, but none compare. It’s not really fair to them, of course – the President of the United States only issues statements of remembrance for individuals who are incomparable.
Gordie made you feel like a million bucks whenever you saw him. He was the hall-of-famer, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like a hall-of-famer, too.
Especially when you had your head down rushing through a crowd in the underbelly of Joe Louis Arena and he would catch you with one of his patented hard-hitting elbows and you wouldn’t know it was him until you turned around and you realized he tuned out of whatever important conversation he was having with important people to mess with you.
Thank you for those elbows, Gordie. I’ll never forget those.
And we’ll never forget you.