The following story ran in the North Shore News on May 27, 2007. It was basically my first month on the job as the newspaper’s sports reporter and Gordie Howe, who passed away today at the age of 88, remains the most famous person I’ve interviewed, not to mention one of the most friendly and fun.

Re-reading the piece, there are no great wisdoms buried in there – I wish I had been a better writer back then – but what shines through is Howe’s mischievous kindness. He must have known I was a raw rookie but he made my dumb questions shine with stories only a true legend could tell.

He was a hockey giant, the biggest of them all. I can still feel the weight of his massive ring twirling around my puny thumb….

Mr. Hockey pays a visit; For the legend, life has been good, both on and off the ice

North Shore News, May 27, 2007

Andy Prest

The note popped up in my e-mail account late last week.

"Gordie Howe will be at my house Wednesday morning. Let me know if (you) would like to do an interview."

Um, yes.

So there I was Wednesday morning, 10 minutes early and shaking the hand of Mr. Hockey -- a man many people call the greatest hockey player to ever play the game.

On his face were traces of scars left by more than 500 stitches taken during his career. His swollen elbows, famous for damaging opponents, looked like they had suffered some damage too. And those hands -- huge, gnarled, and tough. On his ring finger was a massive piece of jewelry given to him by the Detroit Red Wings at his retirement (he let me try it on -- it spun around my puny thumb like a hula hoop around a fence post).

As a player Howe was one of the most-feared in hockey. Although he only did it once, the feat of scoring a goal, getting an assist, and getting in a fight became known as a Gordie Howe hat trick.

At age 79, almost three times my age, he looked like he could still probably take me out. Wait, what do I mean probably?

But then he spoke, and the imposing figure became a gregarious legend. His answers followed a mischievous pattern. First came a joke, then a slightly more serious answer, then often a story only a hockey hero could tell -- scoring his first ever goal on Turk Broda ("we got a shot on net and it came on through and I was there"); meeting a president ("'Old Bush' . . . they treated us like royalty"); or, visiting the prime minister ("I walked into the office and shook his hand. He made an announcement -- 'Everybody can go for coffee, we're going to talk hockey'").

The e-mail invite came from a parent from West Vancouver's Mulgrave school. A dinner party for 12 with Howe as the guest of honour was auctioned off at Mulgrave's fundraising gala earlier this month. Howe, in Vancouver for the Memorial Cup, donated his time. At the dinner, held Tuesday, Marquis Wine Cellars donated wine and Thomas Haas donated dessert. While the Mulgrave gala committee wouldn't disclose the winning bid, a member would say it was, "a good amount of money."

"We had a lot of fun," Howe said. "That's one of my theories of life -- you can get a lot of good things done having a lot of fun."

Wednesday morning, Mr. Hockey was still in town and sitting across from me, throwing mock punches as he talked about a memorable fight he had with Maurice "Rocket" Richard. The fight was "kind of funny," he said with a chuckle.

Howe is definitely "old school." He has no problem with the rough play that some people think is hurting the NHL's image.

"I don't know what I would have done without (fighting)," he said with a laugh. "People don't hear all the remarks on the ice and the little chippiness and when you're in a tight battle and somebody spears you . . . they showed a picture of a fight and there's 19,000 people standing up. It's definitely excitement."

Howe's not too worried about the "hits to the head" that have caused concussions and concern for some. "I say get out of the way. . . . I think in about nine out of 10 cases a little lumber preceded that."

Howe, who played an astonishing 32 season of professional hockey, famously suited up with his two sons Mark and Marty in the 1970s. Even in his late-40s, Howe was a scoring threat and a protector of his sons.

"I had a rule with Marty and Mark. If somebody hit my boys. . .," he said, a menacing glare leaving me to wonder just what revenge would be doled out.

Howe, born in Floral, Sask., is not concerned that the NHL has expanded to places like Tampa Bay and Phoenix while Saskatoon and Winnipeg don't have teams.

"You don't know (the difference) when you're playing and you're on the ice. The only difference is the weather outside," he said, adding that the only problem for players was getting caught on the golf course on game days.

The one thing that does concern Howe is hitting from behind.

"I don't know who puts in the rules that somebody can crosscheck somebody from behind," he said, referring to an incident in the playoffs this year where Chris Pronger hit Thomas Holmstrom. Pronger was not penalized during the game but received a one-game suspension after it. "I don't like that -- if you can't face the guy . . . but I should talk. I whacked a few too," Howe said, again with a laugh.

If anything, Howe thinks the rules should be more old school. He's not thrilled with the abundance of penalty calls for obstruction. "A guy reaching out with one hand to hold him? If you're not strong enough to go through that . . .," he said, shaking his head.

The jokes only stop when Howe speaks of his wife, Colleen. A pioneering "hockey wife" and "hockey mom," she acted as Gordie's agent and manager; helped develop the Detroit Junior Red Wings, the first junior A hockey team in the United States; co-authored books about the famous Howe family; and raised money for many charities.

In 2002, Colleen was diagnosed with Pick's disease, an incurable Alzheimer's-like disease that causes dementia. Howe, who in his playing days didn't make the millions that players earn now, sells merchandise and signs autographs to help with Colleen's care.

Still, hockey and life have been good to him, Howe said, and even on the road Colleen is always on his mind.

"The good Lord was good to me -- he pointed that blonde out to me."