Orr Page 24

  Let’s keep it that way.

  EPILOGUE

  Where has the time gone? From Parry Sound, to Oshawa, to Boston, and beyond, it sure went by in a hurry. I think back to that time just a short while ago when that statue made its debut in front of the new TD Garden in Boston. That event is now in the rearview mirror as well, and the clock just keeps on ticking. You come to realize how very quickly the better part of a lifetime can be lived.

  As I look back on the process of putting this book together, I’m struck by how many wonderful people I have had the good fortune to meet over the course of my life, both inside and outside of hockey. It’s been a heck of a ride so far, and doing this project has allowed me to recall people and events from the past while reliving some very satisfying memories and friendships. However, sometimes in the rush of living we lose track of, or simply don’t keep in touch with, people who have done so much for us and our families, and that is unfortunate. Of course, looking back on your life can also come with a cost. It makes us look at the tough patches, and that includes examining our faults. The memories might lead you to consider what you would change if you could do it over, and how those changes might have benefited those closest to you. Seriously, anyone who says they have no regrets either isn’t looking at everything they’ve done or they are glossing over reality. In my own case I know I made my career a priority for several years. It’s true I gained a measure of fame as a result of that dedication to my career, and I managed to fulfill a lot of my own goals. Yet the truth is, there is always a cost to that kind of pursuit.

  Like many, I can’t help but have some regrets about all the time away from loved ones that my career necessitated. When I watch my son Darren interact with his son and daughter, my two grandchildren, I must admit I feel a bit envious. I say that because Darren has had more time with his children than I did as a father when my boys were that age, and that is something I regret now.

  As I think about that era in my life, I am struck yet again at how supportive Peggy was through all those years. She carried the mail for a long time, especially when it came to raising our children. In writing these thoughts, it strikes me that I’m using my career as an excuse for my shortcomings as a father, and frankly that’s a bad crutch to lean on. It’s your family, and you should be there for them. I suppose I just wish I had a few of those days back, that’s all. Times have changed a great deal on the parenting front. Many modern families need two breadwinners to get by these days. Sometimes it’s the dads who stay home, and today’s fathers on average probably see more of their children than in generations past. I think that is a very good thing. The good news is that I get another chance to spend time with some little ones who are very special to me.

  All this talk of parenting brings me back to my own parents, and specifically my father. I remember the last time I ever fished with him. It was on one of my favorite rivers, the Cascapedia in Quebec, and although it would end up being our last trip together, it was actually the first time my dad had ever tried fly-fishing. It was quite a day, watching him trying to throw that fly. It was a great day in my life, a memorable day. With age, you become far more aware that times such as those were never about money, or fame, or statues, or success. Those memories are the most important ones, because they speak about family, about love, and about sharing. And while those occasions are unique and special to everyone on a very personal level, they are probably similar in many ways for most of us as well. Their value runs deep. A fishing trip with a father, comfort from a mother, pride in children, these represent the fabric of a lifetime. We should celebrate those moments, enjoy our successes, and learn to forgive ourselves for our failures.

  My father, Doug Orr, on leave during his navy days in World War II. He is second from left. He was very proud to serve.

  My father and my mother, Arva. I couldn’t have asked for better parents.

  My father always had a smile on his face.

  This is a page right out of our family photo album.

  Top left: That’s me as a baby.

  Top right: That’s me on the left with my brother, Ron, and my sister, Pat.

  Bottom left: Here I am at eighteen at the house on Great North Road, back from Boston and my rookie year with the Bruins.

  Bottom right: That’s my brother, Ron, on the left and me on the right.

  My brother, Ron, and me (I’m on the far left, and Ron is beside me) with a couple of my buddies on River Street in Parry Sound.

  My portrait from Victory Elementary School in 1958. I was ten years old.

  A recent photo of the house on Great North Road. That’s the garage where I practiced my shot.

  From the right, that’s my cousin Bruce Abbott, my brother, Ron, Grandma Orr, me, and my cousin Kelly Orr. The Generals were in town for an exhibition game against my brother’s team, the Junior C Parry Sound Brunswicks.

  That’s me with Syl Apps. His Scarborough team beat us in a tournament. Do I look like someone who has just lost a big game? We had so much fun traveling and playing hockey that we had a blast even losing.

  My turn to clean the frying pans after cooking our catch.

  Me with a couple of speckled trout after my first season in Boston.

  Enjoying summer in Muskoka.

  That’s me in the front, holding the trophy, with the 1962 fire department midget team. It is probably pretty obvious from how young I look that I was playing up a division. The guy at the very top, on the right, is Jimmy Whittaker, who would be my roommate in Oshawa. The guy to his right is Roddy Bloomfield, who would be Paul Newman’s double in SlapShot. Front row, second from the left, is Neil Clairmont.

  Me with Anthony Gilchrist, Bucko MacDonald, and Ivan Nicksy, who was a director of the Parry Sound minor hockey association. I learned a lot from my coaches in Parry Sound, but the most important thing they did for the kids was let us have fun.

  My student card from Grade 11 in Oshawa.

  Posing in my brand-new Oshawa Generals team sweater.

  That’s me lined up with Ian Young. He was a great goalie and would have played in the NHL, but suffered an eye injury in junior.

  My last year in Oshawa.

  Back in Parry Sound with a couple of trophies I won in my rookie year—the Elisabeth Dufresne Trophy on the right, awarded by Boston sportswriters, and the Gallery Gods trophy.

  After a win. Notice that I didn’t wear shoulder pads. I just had the caps sewn onto my braces.

  Taking a break during practice with Derek Sanderson at the old Garden. The lineup changed a lot in my second year in Boston, but no one was more colorful than Turk.

  Here I am in a pre-season game in my rookie season, doing my best to clear the Rangers’ Reg Fleming from Gerry Cheevers’s crease. Note that I am wearing number 27. I didn’t put on number 4 until later.

  The 1970 goal from an unfamiliar angle. The first shot captures the moment just after the puck went into the net, but the last one shows what hockey is all about.

  Celebrating my first Cup.

  Our trainer and my good friend and roommate John “Frosty” Forrestall.

  Derek Sanderson and Shaky Walton in the parade for Bobby Orr Day in Parry Sound. Check out Derek’s collar.

  That’s Eddie Johnston beside me in the convertible.

  That’s my mother and father riding in style. It’s always great to come home, but it means a lot more to share it with family and friends.

  The man who turned the Bruins around: Bruins GM and my good friend, Milt Schmidt.

  I’d take these guys on my team any day—that’s me with Phil Esposito, Bobby Hull, and Gordie Howe at the 1971 NHL All-Star Dinner.

  At my Grandma Orr’s cottage—I’ve got my hand on her shoulder on the far right. I’m talking to my Aunt Margaret and my cousin Joanne. In the back row, from left to right, are my aunt Joyce Abbott, and my cousins Robbie Atherton, Debbie Atherton, and Neil
Abbott. You might recognize some of the people in the front row. On the far left is my brother-in-law Ron Blanchard and sister, Penny; my wife, Peggy; and that’s Darryl Sittler and his late wife, Wendy, at the right.

  Boating with Peggy on Georgian Bay along with Eddie Johnston and his wife, Diane.

  One of the great thrills of my career was the one time I got to play for my country in the Canada Cup in 1976. Czech goalie Vladimir Dzurilla played great in that tournament, but here I managed to get one by him.

  At the press conference announcing my retirement, November 8, 1978. You can probably tell from the look on my face that it was a tough moment for me.

  With my wife, Peggy, on our wedding day in Parry Sound.

  This photo was taken on Orr Night in Boston in 1979. The Bruins retired my number before a game against the visiting Soviet Wings. Here I am shaking hands with Al Secord, Terry O’Reilly, and Peter McNabb before the opening faceoff.

  Here’s my dad with Walter Gretzky at the annual Skate-A-Thon for Easter Seals in Parry Sound. Walter also comes to the golf tournament every year in support of the Bobby Orr Hall of Fame.

  Here I am with King Arnold at a senior event at the Nashawtuc Country Club.

  With Michael J. Fox at a benefit in Boston.

  With Frank Sinatra at a benefit for Tony Conigliaro in 1983.

  At the outdoor game in Boston with two of my favorite Bruins, Cam Neely and Ray Bourque.

  With my friend Ace Bailey, who we lost on 9/11.

  With Boston sports legends Ted Williams and Larry Bird on the set of Bob Lobel’s Sports Final. It was an honor to be there with two guys who made the kind of mark on their respective sports that those two did.

  Salmon fishing on the Cascapedia River with Fraser Baikie and Ted Williams.

  Bass fishing on Lake St. Francis in Quebec.

  Salmon fishing on a trip with my father and friends in northern British Columbia.

  On the water with my family. Peggy and my sons, Darren and Brent, are all accomplished anglers.

  Arm wrestling with Don Cherry at the Prospects Game in Calgary.

  That’s Don and me at the tee of my annual golf tournament in Parry Sound. Grapes comes every year. You wouldn’t believe how excited golfers are when they come around the corner and see Don standing there.

  At my sweater-retirement ceremony in Oshawa. Grapes was a surprise guest.

  Possibly my fondest memory from childhood is playing hockey outdoors, and I’m always happy to share that experience with others. Here I am (left) at the rink at Fenway Park with my friend Dave Harkins on my right; his son-in-law, Jeremy Styles; and Dave’s grandchildren, Logan and Sadie. And here I am at Fenway again (right) with the grandchildren of my friend Phil Morse. From left to right, that’s Sawyer, Ben, Ryan, Will, and Annie.

  Here are my sons, Brent and Darren, when they were just kids.

  Here they are all grown up at Darren’s wedding. We were thrilled to welcome Chelsea into the family, just as we were to welcome Kelley, Brent’s wife-to-be (far left).

  Here are Chelsea and Darren with the next generation, my grandchildren, Alexis and Braxton. There is no thrill quite like being a grandfather.

  Here are Kelley and Brent with some of their boarders at Paws 4 Play, their grooming and boarding business in Jupiter, Florida.

  My knees, before and after. You don’t have to be a doctor to see there wasn’t much cartilage left in the joints. I had eight more surgeries between 1982 and 2002. Finally I bit the bullet and had a total knee replacement in 2004. I should have done it a lot sooner.

  Here’s the statue outside the new Boston Garden. The Bruins mean a lot to the loyal fans of Boston.

  SOME AWARDS AND RECOGNITIONS: A PERSONAL PERSPECTIVE

  When your career finally comes to an end, one thing always remains: career statistics. Those numbers can be rather cold things. They hardly tell the human side of the story. Your final numbers are what your final numbers are, and you can never get away from that. But there is a lot more that goes into any player’s career besides just those numbers. The stats can’t relate any of the ideas or emotions that went into the creation of those final numbers, and they can’t expose the feelings an athlete had at particular moments. I am often asked questions about my career that the numbers simply cannot account for. I was fortunate to play on a team that ended up having some pretty good success in the NHL, and as a result of that team success I was honored with a few individual awards over time. While I have no interest in discussing those individual awards in any detail, there are some things that are special to me, and I’d like to share with you a few personal insights about them. Yes, the numbers are the numbers. But here are some comments as to what the numbers and the recognitions mean to me.

  Winning the Stanley Cup

  If you are a young boy growing up in Canada and play the game of hockey, you almost certainly have the dream of someday winning the Stanley Cup. I was no different. It’s difficult to put on paper what it feels like at the moment you suddenly realize that you did just win it. I can tell you that it was a mixture of excitement and relief, and winning it the first time only made me want to repeat the experience again and again. Regardless of your profession, when you get to the top of your chosen field, however you measure that, it is a thrill you’ll never forget. In the world of hockey, the top of the mountain was, and always will be, a Stanley Cup Championship.

  Canada Cup Champion

  The year 1976 will always be a memorable one for me, because it marked the first and only time I was able to wear the colors of my country. I must confess that by that time I was having a lot of problems with my knees, but it’s amazing what you can do when the adrenaline kicks in. That excitement afforded me the opportunity to play, and although I was limited in what I could do, it was fun to contribute to that amazing group. It is an experience I will always cherish.

  James Norris Trophy

  I’m proud to have won that award. But the Norris Trophy I most remember was the one I didn’t win. During my rookie season, I finished second in voting to the great Harry Howell. After he accepted the trophy that year, he said some very complimentary things about me and what the future would hold, and I remember thinking to myself, “Hey, that’s Harry Howell saying those things about me!” Given who he was, those comments meant a lot. I was able to win the Norris because teammates and coaches let me be me, and by that I mean that through their support I was allowed to play my style.

  All-Star Selections

  When you step on the ice and you’re surrounded by the likes of Gordie Howe, Jean Béliveau, Ken Dryden, Yvan Cournoyer, and so many others, it hits you how special the moment is. To be included with that cast of characters is something I never took for granted and always appreciated.

  Member, Hockey Hall of Fame

  In 1979, the NHL did something very kind. They waived the normal time requirement in order to induct me into the Hockey Hall of Fame when I was thirty-one. I was especially honored to have been introduced by Weston Adams’s widow. Mr. Adams owned the Bruins when I was a rookie. She was the first woman ever to introduce a member into the Hall of Fame. I think that being a member of that very prestigious group has grown more meaningful to me over the years. As I’ve gotten older, I have started to appreciate it more, perhaps because its meaning changes. At the time, when the ceremony is held, it all goes by pretty quickly. Speeches are made, you receive your ring, and then it’s over. But with time and distance comes a different feeling, and you realize just how special it all is. Every time I have occasion to be in that great building in Toronto, with all of the likenesses of the members around me, I know again what an honor it is to be one of them. It is a recognition that means a lot to my entire family.

  Order of Canada

  That was totally unexpected. To think that someone like me from Parry Sound would grow up to have such an honor given to him during the
course of his life. The motto for the Order of Canada is, “They desire a better country.” You learn in sport that you can always get better, but I have to say that, as a nation, Canada is a pretty solid country. If my involvement in hockey has helped in some small way to make it better, then that makes me happy.