Mr. Hockey My Story by Gordie Howe

Author:Gordie Howe [Howe, Gordie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-10-14T00:00:00+00:00

Seven

MY MOST IMPORTANT TEAM

Growing up, if hockey wasn’t my sole focus at any given time, it was close. It was a way of life for me from as far back as I can remember. As I kid, I can recall sitting at the kitchen table and writing out different signatures to try to figure out the best one to use once I became famous. When I finished, I tugged on the hem of my mom’s skirt and asked her to pick a favorite. She humored me and chose one with big loops on the “G” and the “H.” To this day, it’s the one I still use whenever I sign my name. Even as a fanciful child, though, I wasn’t interested in the perks of fame. I just figured that if I was going to play hockey for a living, I’d need a serviceable autograph. At sixteen, when the Red Wings wanted me to move to Galt to play on the practice squad, I said yes because I knew it would make me a better hockey player. I didn’t particularly want to leave my friends and family in Saskatoon, but when hockey called, I always listened. For more than twenty years I was content to let hockey guide nearly all of my decisions. It was that way right up until the moment I met Colleen.

At some point, I suppose it happens to most everyone. Or at least it does if you’re lucky. You’re ticking along worrying only about yourself until one day you wake up and something’s different. One minute it was just you, and then suddenly all of your decisions are being made for two. The funny thing is how seamlessly this change comes about. Once I met Colleen, everything just sort of clicked into place. I’ll tell anyone who will listen that marrying her was the smartest thing I ever did. I wouldn’t say that hockey took a back seat to our marriage—that would be Jack Adams talking—but for the first time in my life I wanted to make room for something besides the game. As if that wasn’t enough, not long after we were hitched, Colleen and I had to start thinking for three. Our first child, Marty, was born on February 18, 1954. We named him after Marty Pavelich. There was no way to know it beforehand, but once Marty came along I realized I was born to be a family man. I’d guess that fathers from the beginning of time have been saying the same thing. Of course, most fathers don’t have a boss like Jack Adams. Trying to raise a family on his watch was easier said than done.

As much as I wanted to be there when our son was born, babies don’t care about clocks, calendars, or hockey schedules. The night Marty arrived, the Red Wings were on the road in Montreal. A bunch of smiling teammates gave me the news between periods. I gladly accepted the handshakes and “attaboys,” knowing full well that Colleen had done all of the heavy lifting.

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