I knew him when

 The Habs no. 6 has died.  Ralph Backstrom was a prince.  I met him in 1966, when I was dating his teammate Bryan Watson.  That was one hell of a wild summer!  Bryan was auditing a summer course at Carleton, obviously to pick up chicks.  I was taking a summer course, 'cause I had failed Earth Sciences that year, and after class we'd all go over to Hull to bar-hop.

I was at The Rendezvous, when this ugly guy with a huge smile started staring at me.  He asked his buddy, a mutual friend, to introduce us and that was the start of a heady summer romance with Mr. Ugly (google him and you'll see).  Bryan's face was completely scarred and most of his teeth were false, but he was a charmer.  My late mother would attest to that.  I was working at Tunney's Pasture in the RevCan data centre and had to bus all the way from Lindenlea to my job for eight a.m.  (And I had to be there at eight because one of my jobs was to sound the buzzer for work to start.  Yes, we started at the ring of a buzzer!)  After staying out with Bryan until all the bars in Hull and Alymer closed, he'd drive me home and I'd sneak up the stairs and flop into bed.  Ah, the innocence of it all.  

The next day, after a grueling grind at the data centre, I'd bus home, go straight upstairs, crash into bed and tell my mother I was definitely not going out with Bryan that night.  But right on cue, she'd come up a couple of hours later.  "Nancy dear, Bryan is downstairs and he wants you to come out this evening.  He's such a nice young man, just get up and go with him."  He always charmed my mother and I'd always go.

Anyway, back to Ralph Backstrom.  One night, Bryan said we were going to a friend's place in Alymer.  It was Ralph Backstrom's.  He was one of the most handsome, charming gentleman I'd ever met.  We had a great evening, one which I will always remember.  

What happened to Mr. Watson?  Well, our romance drifted and cooled, as he moved around from team to team and city to city.  But he called me one day when I was living and working in Toronto (yes, my mother had given him my number).  I was thrilled!  When he came over, I thought we'd resume out romance, but I was wrong.  Ever the gentleman, he had come to tell me he was going back to his first love, Lindy from Bancroft, his home town.  I was a tad heartbroken, but I have to hand it to him.  He broke up with me in person.  As I said, always the gentleman.

However, my days of dating NHL hockey players were not over.  The next summer, I started dating Brian Smith -- the broadcaster who was tragically murdered a number of years later by a lunatic in the parking lot of CJOH, where he worked as a sports broadcaster.  The summer of our romance was also magical, with nightly visits to the grimy Chaud and Rendezvous.  We also spent time at his family's cottage.  He was so handsome and also charming -- another one of my mother's favourites.

When I learned he had been killed, I was shocked and saddened.  It was so senseless.  

Ah, trips down memory lane...............