Showing posts with label Hockey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hockey. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

UHM, HENRI, COULD YOU JOIN US IN THE CLASS HOCKEY TOURNAMENT?

Fr. Henri Brodeur, MS
P. Henri Brodeur, MS

English = Black
Français = Bleu
Españ
ol = Verde


The last time I saw this face was two years ago.  It was looking up at me from a wheel chair.  I have been having that experience a lot as I go through life.  It's getting to be that I am happy just to be talking to someone from between a pair of wheels than from a frame of fine pine.  Anyway, there was Henri and he was pretty much the same guy that I had known some 55 years before.  Quiet, gentle, monosyllabic, direct.  I did not know him that much because our paths crossed in school a bit but then since I was two years ahead of Henri in school, as I moved along he stayed behind and we did not meet again until about 6 years ago.  He was in the wheelchair then.  It was an off again, on again life, but his heart was not up to the task of keeping up with the rest of him.  
So I did not know Henri to the degree would permit me to get too serious here.  So I will turn to my brother Denis, aka "Reef Lector" of Internet fame.  Denis and Henri were classmates.  As such, one day would come when one of them would teach the other about life.  So I'll let Denis tell you the story about the lesson.

1. My announcement of Henri's death.
Hi.  I don't know if you have been made aware, but Henri Brodeur from Berlin, NH went to the Lord on April 1.  He had been ill for a long time with a rather interesting array of ailments and sundry conditions.
The last time I saw him was two years ago in                                   Attleboro and he was in a wheel chair as he had been for several years before.  So, pray for his departed soul.
2. Denis responds
 "I have a great story about Henri.  Can't tell you right now because one of our granddaughters is visiting, so I have to close out".  So, he leaves for a little while.  Then...
 "Here goes.  Back to Enfield 1957.
We all know that every one from Berlin, NH can really skate.  Henri was no different.  However, he never signed up for hockey.  When the Class Tournament arrived at the end of the hockey season (The longest sport season in Enfield) I was a senior and was elected to make up a team from the 12 guys in our class.  Since we were only 12, I thought I'd ask everyone to play.  I was a bit skeptical about Henri since he had never played the entire time he was at Enfield, but I knew he could skate.  Man, could he skate!  I had seen him several times during recesses.  So, I asked him if he would play.  He hesitated for a bit.  I was thinking, "Well we got 11 anyway."  

I was going to tell him he'd be the only one in the class who wasn't going to be on the team when he said, "Yes, thank you, Denis for asking."  After the game, I said to myself, "Thank you for asking Henri."  

He scored three goals and made everyone else look silly.  If you're from Berlin, NH, no matter what your druthers,  you CAN play hockey, even on "figure skates." "

The moral of the story is not the figure skates.  It is that if you wait until you think that someone is good enough for something before you ask, you'll probably never get the answer, and the precious prize that the answer will bring.

Thank you, Denis.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
'
La dernière fois que j'ai vu ce visage fut il y a deux ans. Il me regardait d'un fauteuil roulant. Cette expérience ce répète beaucoup le plus loin que je vais dans la vie. Je suis  en train d’être heureux quand l’occasion se présente, de pouvoir parler à quelqu'un d'entre une paire de roues plutôt qu’à quelqu’ un encadre de quatre planches d’érable bien polies. Quoi qu'il en soit, me voila avec Henri et il était à peu près le même gars que j'avais connu quelque 55 ans plus tôt. Calme, doux, monosyllabique, direct. Je ne le connaissais pas beaucoup parce que nos chemins se sont croisés à l'école un peu mais depuis que j'avais deux ans d'avance sur Henri à l'école, quand j’ai quitte Enfield, NH,  il est resté derrière et nous ne nous avons pas rencontré de nouveau jusqu'à ce que, il ya environ 6 ans, nous avons jase un petit bout quand  était dans le fauteuil roulant. C'était une situation ou aujourd’hui il était bien et demain, non pas. Son cœur n'était pas à la tâche de soutenir le reste de son corps.
Donc je n’ai pas connu Henri a un niveau d’intimité qui  me permettrait d'être trop sérieux dans mon jugement de sa personne. Je vais donc demander à mon frère Denis, alias «Reef Lector " de grande renommée a l'Internet. Denis et Henri étaient camarades de classe. En tant que tel, un jour viendrait où l'un d'eux enseignerait a l'autre quelque chose d’important a propos de la vie. Alors, je vous laisse avec  Denis qui vous racontera l'histoire de la leçon.
1. Mon annonce de la mort d'Henri.
Salut. Je ne sais pas si tu as été mis au courant, mais Henri Brodeur de Berlin, NH est allé vers le Seigneur, le 1er Avril. Il avait été malade pendant une longue période avec un carnet plutôt intéressant de maladies et de conditions diverses.
La dernière fois que je l'ai vu il ya deux ans à Attleboro il était dans un fauteuil roulant comme il l'avait été pendant plusieurs années avant.
Donc, prie pour le repos de son âme.
2. Denis répond
 «J'ai une grande histoire a te raconter a propos d'Henri.  Je n’ai pas le temps de te la raconter maintenant parce que une de nos petites-filles est en visite.  Alors je dois « fermer".
 Donc, il me laisse pour un peu de temps. Et puis...
 "Bon, retournons à Enfield - 1957.
Nous savons tous que qui que se soit qui est d’origine de Berlin, NH peut vraiment patiner très bien. Henri n'était pas différent. Cependant, il n'avait  jamais signé pour le hockey. Lorsque le tournoi de classe est arrivé à la fin de la saison de hockey (la plus longue saison de sport a Enfield) j'étais la personne élu pour former un équipe parmi les 12 gars dans notre classe. Comme nous étions seulement 12,  j’ai pense que je demanderais à tout et chacun de jouer. J'étais un peu sceptique quant à Henri puisqu'il n'avait jamais joué durant les presque quatre ans de notre séjour à Enfield, mais je savais qu'il pouvait patiner.  Mon vieux, ce mec pouvait patiner.  Eh, comme il pouvait  patiner! Je l'avais vu plusieurs fois durant les récréations. Alors, je lui ai demandé s'il voulait jouer. Il hésitât un peu. Je pensai: «Eh bien, nous sommes 11, de toute façon."

J'allais lui dire qu'il serait le seul dans la classe qui ne n’allait pas être dans l'équipe quand il me dit: «Oui, je te remercie, Denis,  pour m’avoir demander." Après le match, je me suis dit: «Merci d'avoir approche Henri."

Il a marqué trois buts et a fait tout le monde avoir l'air ridicule. Si tu es de Berlin, NH, quelles que soient tes penchants, tu peux jouer au hockey, même en «patins de fantaisie». "

La morale de l'histoire n’a rien a faire avec les patins de fantaisie ». C'est que si vous attendez jusqu'à ce que vous pensez que quelqu'un est assez bon pour quelque chose avant de poser la question, vous n'aurez probablement jamais obtenu ni la réponse, et ni le précieux prix que la réponse apporterait.

Merci, Denis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

La última vez que vi esa cara fue hace dos años. Él me miraba mientras estaba en una silla de ruedas. Esta experiencia se repita cada paso que tomo en adelante durante la vida. Estoy tratando de ser feliz cuando se presente la oportunidad, hablar con alguien en medio de un par de ruedas en lugar de alguien acostado entre cuatro tablas de arce altamente pulidas. De todos modos, aquí estoy con Henri y fue casi el mismo chico que había conocido unos 55 años antes. Calma, apacible, monosilábico, directo. Yo no lo conozco mucho porque nuestros caminos se cruzaron en la escuela un poco, pero porque yo tenía dos años antes de Henri en la escuela cuando me fui Enfield, NH, permaneció detrás y no nos hemos reunido de nuevo hasta que haya cerca de seis años, pasamos un ratito en conversación y el estaba en la silla de ruedas. Era una situación de hoy bien estar,  o mañana, no. Su corazón no tenía más le fuerza y la energía de sostener el resto de su cuerpo.
Así que no conozco Henri a un nivel de intimidad que me permitiera ser muy serio en mi opinión de él. Le preguntaré a mi hermano Denis, alias "Reef Lector" estrella a l’Internet. Denis  y Henri eran compañeros de clase. Así un día llegaría cuando uno de ellos enseña en el otro algo importante sobre la vida. Así que os dejo con Denis que le indicará la lección de la historia.
1. Mi anuncio de la muerte de Henry.
Hola. No sé si estabas al tanto, pero Henry Brodeur nacido a  Berlin, NH se fue al Señor el 1 de abril. Había estado enfermo durante mucho tiempo con una lista interesante de enfermedades y diversas condiciones.
La última vez que lo vi hace dos años en Attleboro que estaba en una silla de ruedas como lo había sido durante varios años.
Por lo tanto, ora por el eterno descanso de su alma.
2. Denis responde -
 "Tengo una gran historia que contar acerca de Henry. No tengo tiempo para desvelarla  ahora, porque una de nuestras nietas está de visita. Así que tengo que "cerrar".
 Por lo tanto, me dejo un poco de tiempo. Y entonces...
 "Bueno, de vuelta a Enfield - 1957.
Todos sabemos quién es originario de Berlín, NH realmente puede patinar muy bien. Henri no fue diferente. Sin embargo, nunca se ha registrado para el hockey. Cuando el torneo de clase se produjo a finales de la temporada de hockey (la temporada más larga del deporte a Enfield) Yo era la persona elegida para formar un equipo entre los 12 chicos de nuestra clase. Como sólo estuvimos 12, creo que me gustaría pedir a todos y invitarlos a participar en la jugada. Yo estaba un poco escéptico porque Henri nunca había jugado durante los casi cuatro años de nuestra estancia en Enfield, pero sabía que podía patinar. Vaya, este chico podría patinar. Bueno, como pudo patinar! Lo vi varias veces durante los descansos. Así que le pregunté si quería jugar. Dudó un poco. Yo pensé: "Bueno, somos 11, de todos modos."

Yo diría que sería el único de la clase que no estaría en el equipo cuando me lo dijo. "Sí, gracias-Denis, que me pregunte" Después del partido, Yo dije: "Gracias que has invitado a Henri.”

Anotó tres goles y hizo que todos parezcan ridículos. Si usted está en Berlin, NH, sean cuales sean sus gustos, usted puede jugar al hockey, incluso con " patines de fantasia."

La moraleja de esta historia no tiene nada que ver con patines de fantasia". Es que si usted espera hasta que usted piensa que alguien es lo suficientemente bueno para algo antes de echar la pregunta, es probable que nunca obtendría la respuesta, y ni siquiera  el premio preciado que proporcionaría la respuesta .

Gracias, Denis.




Thursday, November 29, 2012

I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, GOLF'S NOT A SPORT

HEY, I'm vindicated.  Golf is not a sport.  Not any more than bird watching, driving a race car,playing bridge or fighting at a hockey game.  Now that they have to argue about whether or not a person can anchor his leverage point for a swing meant to direct a stationary ball I am convinced that this is nothing but wimps playing "watching the grass grow" with a ball [stationary, of course] for an excuse.
No wonder Tiger had time for extra-curricular activities.  There just wasn't enough challenge to his day job.  
I have never been much of a golf guy.  It reminds me too much of wine guys.  They never have a enough time at any event to tell people all that they really think everyone should know about their area of expertise.  Real athletes who compete in real sports can generally get the conversation job done in about 25 words or less.  Like, "Yeah, I did a mile in 3:5352618 in the Olympics last year."  Or we have the hockey player who can get it done just before the final buzzer, "I beat Jacques Plante with 0:0627831 seconds left on the clock with a slap shot from the left point, in Montreal." [Italics, his] 
I have no idea what golfers drink, but I happen to know at least one  hockey player who doesn't drink anything but straight Bourbon, neat.  
Look, if you're going to play a sport, play one that's going to make you sweat. Play one where the ball moves.  Heck, they don't call Bridge players athletes do they?  Oh, not yet, you say.  Hmmm, I suppose that the day will come.  These days anything can happen, sex has turned into gender, so I suspect that golf and bridge can turn into sports.
There remains one essential question: "What are the golfers who grew sturdy bellies to anchor their clubs going to do if the belly anchor becomes a no-no?  Maybe they'll have to take up bridge where they will be able to anchor their elbows on the table.

Oh, I loved writing this one!

Thursday, October 4, 2012

BEST MOMENTS IN SPORTS

Lake Placid, NY - 1980
Something happened to me today that I never thought I would experience.  I had an emotional experience regarding a sports story.

That having been said, I will tell you that I have cut myself off from professional sports, and all sports.  It's not because I don't admire the prowess.  I do.  It is because I gag at the behavior of the athletes and the owners.  I didn't even watch 2 minutes of the Olympic games last month.  Was it last month?  No.  Maybe farther back than that.  Anyway, that's where I am with the sports thing.

This morning a news program on television had Len Berman as a guest.  Len has written a book about the best moments in sports.  He has chosen 25.  I remembered some of them and some of them I did not.  I didn't remember anything about the basketball stuff.  Most of the choices about baseball I remember vividly.  I remember Jackie Robinson (Lary Doby too, remember?), and the 1969 Mets.  I also remember Roger Bannister and I think of him a lot.  Don't ask me why.  Actually, I'll tell you why.  The runners who stand out on the track seem to be so alone.  They seem to be so distant from  one another in a very strangely isolated way.  And maybe they are.  But when Roger Bannister broke the four minute barrier in the mile run in 1954, he did it with two accomplices, familiarly known as "rabbits."  These two conspirees had the task of setting a fast pace for Bannister so that if he followed them, they all three knew that he would break the record.  He would be the first person ever to run a mile in less than 4 minutes.  I remember this very clearly and I even remember the names of the two "rabbits."  It is strange that this event made such an impression on me that I still carry it around.  Oh yeah, the two "rabbits?"  Chris -- yep, both of them were named Chris.  See!  That's why I can remember.  I remember only one surname though, Chataway.  The other one escapes me.  Oh, the time?  3 minutes, 59.4 seconds.

Of course, you have all recognized the picture at the top of the page.  It is of course the USA hockey team of 1980...THE USA HOCKEY team.  They, the college amateurs who beat the formidable, steamroller style, ultra-disciplined Russian Red Army Hockey Machine.  I watched that game and I could not believe my eyes when Mike Eruzione scored the go-ahead goal.  It was already a miracle that the college boys from the USA had already score twice.  I was sitting there waiting for the Reds to score again and that would put the kibosh on the USA.  Besides it was hardly possible that the guy in goal, Tretiak would ever surrender three goals in one game.  He the Cerberius of the hockey world would never, ever allow three pucks to go by him in one single hour.  But that day, because he had let two get by him, he was held out of the game for the third period and was replaced by Myshkin.  No one knows why.  But that was a mistake by the Russian coach, Tikanov.  Maybe he should have stayed with Tretiak.  After all,   he is the same Vladislav Tretiak who one time shut out the Montreal Canadiens, in Montreal.  No matter, that day, the college boys won.  It didn't matter that it was not the gold medal game.  It was more than that.  It was the great "Miracle on Ice."  
Two days later the "Miracle on Ice" was complete.  The USA beat Finland for the gold.  For me, that day when the Russin Army sank into the ice was the best.  It is still the best.  

You know what?  The first and only perfect game ever pitched in a world series didn't make it into the book.  That's too bad because I saw every single pitch that Don Larsen threw in that game.  Those were the days when I watched every pitch of the World Series.  Now, it's been several years that I don't even know when the baseball season starts and when it ends...Of course that may be because there is no such thing as a baseball "season" any more.  Oh well, I'll get over it until I meet Bobby Doerr in heaven.  Bobby has to be in heaven.  He will remember me too because I prayed so hard for him to get into the Hall of Fame.  It took a while, but he made it.  
So there, more memories.