Sometimes we receive gifts when we least expect them. It’s Christmas 2023, but I got a present four months early. I’ll share with you.
On Labor Day this year, my wife Anne and I embarked on a Great Lakes cruise aboard Le Bellot, an intimate 184-passenger French ship. Our third port of call was Parry Sound, Ontario, a small town tucked on the shore of Lake Huron’s Georgian Bay.
Most New England hockey fans old enough to remember Boston Garden know that No. 4, Bobby Orr, was born and raised in Parry Sound. I am not a hockey guy — I could barely skate as a kid and wasn’t much better at table hockey — but I was excited to see where one of the greatest players, an iconic figure in Boston’s sports pantheon, grew up.
I knew nothing of Parry Sound and thought I would just wander around for an hour, perhaps find Orr’s childhood home on Great North Road. The ship’s launch delivered me to the Parry Sound Pier. I walked by small gift shops, a welcome table staffed by genial women ready to hand out brochures and answer questions from tourists, and a coffee shop.
The pier leads to Bay Street and a Boston Pizza restaurant. Yes, Boston Pizza! A good omen, right? I turned left, strolled about 100 yards when what to my wandering eyes did appear but a huge sign welcoming me to the Bobby Orr Hall of Fame and the Charles W. Stockey Centre, a performing arts venue.
Oh, happy day!
I bought a ticket — senior discount — saved the gift shop for later and stepped into a hockey time machine. There’s 5-year-old Bobby on skates. There’s Bobby, a little older, all smiles while sitting with opposing players who had just beaten his team. Bobby as an Oshawa General in junior hockey. Bobby as an 18-year-old rookie with the Boston Bruins. And Bobby, four years later, hugging the Stanley Cup.
Trophies, sculptures, and assorted memorabilia fill the space. Suspended from the ceiling is an artist’s rendition of The Goal, Orr outstretched after being tripped by St. Louis defenseman Noel Picard while scoring the overtime goal that clinched the 1970 Stanley Cup.
Upstairs is a replica of the old Boston Garden clock, time stopped forever at 19:20 of the Period 4. Boston 4. Visitor 3. Three wooden seats from the old Garden offer silent tribute to that historic goal. Look long and hard, and you might imagine three fans leaping from those seats after Orr gave the Bruins their first Stanley Cup in 29 years.
The numerous accolades that Orr received during and after his career are beyond comprehension for mere mortals. All you really need to know is the NHL waived its three-year retirement policy and inducted him into the Hall of Fame Sept. 12, 1979, just 11 months after his last game. He was 31 with damaged knees.
What struck me most about this Hall of Fame, however, is the emphasis Orr placed on the values he grew up with in Parry Sound and carried with him to the NHL and beyond.
Helpfulness. Perseverance. Community. Cooperation. Values over Victory. Courage. Hard Work. Humility. Respect. Responsibility. Sportsmanship. Fun.
As his father Doug often said, “Go out and have some fun and let’s see what happens.”
By the late 1990s, the explosion of on-ice aggression and parental pressure in kids hockey motivated Orr to collaborate with General Motors on a values-based instruction program.
Bobby Orr is 75 now, has been married to his wife Peggy for 50 years, and has two sons and two grandchildren. He splits his time between Cape Cod and the Jupiter, Florida, area. He plays golf, is an avid fisherman and donates his time and resources to various charities.
Shy as a young star, he eventually grew comfortable with his celebrity but remains reserved. A close friend of mine winters in the same gated community in Florida and says he is so private that he is not listed in the club directory.
Bobby still visits Parry Sound to salute community heroes elected to the Hall of Fame. The opening of the facility in his name in 2003 “is an honor I would never have dreamed of when I was growing up in Parry Sound,” he wrote in his excellent 2013 memoir “Orr: My Story.”
My spirits buoyed by Orr’s commitment to values in sport and life, I bought Parry Sound sweatshirts for our four grandchildren. On my way to catch the return launch, I paused to take a photo of the words Parry Sound above the pier. A smiling greeter asked how I liked his town.
“Great. Loved the museum,” I said.
“Did you get a Bobby Orr pin?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Come with me.”
We walked back to the table where those genial women sat.
“Give this fellow a Bobby Orr pin,” he said.
“Um, I have four grandchildren.”
“Give him four pins,” my new friend exclaimed with a bigger smile.
And they did.
As I turned toward the launch, he stopped me.
“Here, let me take your picture.”
I gave him my cell phone. He snapped two.
And so there I am, tucked among my iPhone photos, grinning beneath the Parry Sound sign, clutching a bag with four sweatshirts from Bobby Orr’s hometown, four Bobby Orr pins, a thumbs up and an experience worth way more than the $6 admission to the Bobby Orr Hall of Fame.
Merry Christmas!
