I wrote this for Glenn Anderson's glennsglobalgames.com site
I first met Glenn Anderson at a late night party in Toronto on March 20th 1994. He probably wouldn’t remember. He has been to a lot of parties. It was an after party at the Juno Awards. For those outside Canada this is our big music industry award night…like the Grammys. My band the Odds was nominated for a few that year and we were out on the town having a good time after not winning an award AGAIN! Since the band was presenting an award on the telecast I decided to dress up in my best west coast formalwear – a replica Vancouver Canucks Cliff Ronning jersey. Someone at this party ran over to me and said, “there is a hockey player here and you should meet him”. I asked who it was and they didn’t know so I followed them across the room to where Glenn Anderson was sitting. I had always admired Glenn’s ability to drive the net with one arm on his stick and the puck dangling from its toe and somehow still score while a defenseman was hauling him down. I had never admired the fact that he had done that so many times at the expense of my home team. I took the good-natured ribbing from Glenn about my poor choice of jersey then he admitted that he thought Cliff Ronning was a fantastic player and a good Burnaby BC boy just like himself. He even admitted that to be a Canuck would not be a bad thing at all. We talked a little more about the state of Vancouver hockey and broke off to mingle. I liked the guy.
When I opened the paper the next morning there was a picture of Glenn leaping out of the front page. He was laughing and clicking his heals in the air. In his right hand was a hastily packed suitcase. Glenn had been traded to the Rangers. When my Vancouver Canucks lost to the New York Rangers in game 7 of the ’94 Stanley Cup finals my friends blamed me. They figured I had somehow triggered the trade that helped submarine our beloved Canucks.
That year I put on skates and started to play hockey. I had loved the game all my life but grew up playing soccer and lacrosse. My parents wouldn’t pay for hockey and they wouldn’t get up at 6 am to take a kid to practice. I thank them for the music lessons but I am still trying to win back my hockey years. I worked hard at it. I was as glassy eyed and nutso as any born again Christian. Everything was about getting better at the game. Any effort was made to combine musical endeavors with hockey. Like Glenn I tend to turn any work into playtime.
Shoot ahead ten years and I am getting a phone call from my chum Harry Doupe. Harry is a comic and a writer. His new idea has landed him a CBC show called “Hockeyville”. It’s a live contest show format and they want a “Late Night” type house band. I take the job as “musical director” and we hire my friends from the Odds and Colin James Band to flesh the thing out. On the first day of shooting I look across the arena/set and see the panel of on-camera judges sitting at their spaceship styled podium. Mike Bossy, Gabe Hogan, Hayley Wickenheiser, Catriona Le May Doan and none other than Glenn Anderson. On a break I walk over and reintroduce myself. From then on Glenn would usually whisk over to the bandstand after the first break in filming and ask, “what are we doing tonight boys”? We all lived in the same hotel and took meals together for 13 episodes and in two different cities. Glenn was in charge of all the extracurricular fun and thus received the nickname “Captain Fun”. I will not go into too much detail here except to say Glenn made sure we were sitting in a favourite nightspot every night and that we usually closed the place down. We all watched the Oilers charge to the Stanley Cup finals in 2006 while rocking the pubs and bars of Hamilton Ontario. Glenn’s wife Susan and precious daughter Autumn came up from New York to share in the festivities.
For the next three years there wasn’t a time Glenn didn’t call if he was around. He’d hit Vancouver for a Legends game or a visit with his family and he’d always try to connect. Usually we were out of town working and it was a pretty hit and miss affair. When it was announced that he was being inducted into the Hall of Fame the wires lit up. We text messaged and e-mailed and called in flurries. Glenn invited us out to the celebrations in Toronto and it broke our hearts to all be working when the time came for the big day.
When it was announced that Glenn’s #9 would be hoisted to the rafters of Rexall Place in Edmonton good ‘ol “Captain Fun/Persistence” tried again and gave the Odds a call. This time we were determined not to miss out on anything. We booked ourselves an Edmonton show to coincide with the event and started making plans to play for Glenn and the dignitaries while attending the weekend’s funfest labeled “Glenn’s Global Games – G9”. One of the things Glenn had started during Toronto’s Hall of Fame induction was his “Glenn’s Global Games” fantasy camp. This is where hockey zealots like me get to play with Glenn and the Hall of Fame pros. This was a lot like Wayne Gretzky’s or Mark Messier’s camps only with Glenn’ artistic flair and nonstop fun factor applied liberally. Doug Elliott (bass player of the Odds) and I started training to get ready for the camp. Doug had let hockey slide out of his life with the birth of his two young children and he had some work to do. He decided to play every day leading up to the camp and blew his back out and cracked a few ribs the day before we were to leave. Growing up an Oiler fan in Jasper Alberta this was a devastating occurrence. I vowed to play for the both of us and make a good show of it. Glenn had seen me play guitar and sing many times but he had never seen me play hockey. The two things are quite different.
We arrived in Edmonton on a Thursday night and checked into the Sutton Place --our favourite Edmonton hotel. Glenn’s buddy Andy Hill and his musical partner Rene were heading up from Los Angeles and we were in charge of getting their musical gear rented and set up in the “Party Central” room at the top of the hotel. One of our former tour managers Andrew White (king of the Oiler fans) lives in Edmonton so we had him help us out with everything technical and logistical on this weekend. Thanks again Drew. “Party Central” was a fully “stocked” lounge with an ajacent suite supplying tasty buffet styled food. “Party Central” was a 24-hour, non-stop rumpus room. If Captain Fun was awake then the party was still in effect. Captain fun was usually awake 22 hours a day for the whole 4 days. When we weren’t on the ice we were at a function honouring Glenn’s remarkable achievements or in “Party Central” honouring Glenn’s’ remarkable stamina. Glenn gave “the campers” some brief instructions on the weekend’s itinerary and the house rules and then we headed into the night to break all the rules. I was coaxed home from Britney’s Lounge down the street before closing time. That would be it for me paying attention to the clock.
Friday brought the first 5 on 5 game out at the new River Cree Casino and Rink complex. Only in Canada would such a combo be possible. I walked into the dressing room to find my gear all laid out in my stall by the trainers. I felt like a king. Not only was I wearing #21 for Team Canada…my stall was right beside Ken Linesman’s. One of these things is not like the others. Ken and I had met a few years prior when I played with the Colin James Band for the Oiler’s alumni during the after party at the “Heritage Classic” (the first outdoor NHL game in decades). We had shared a few beverages last night and it was a welcome sign to see I was on his team today. Ken is a soulful cat as we say in the music business. I looked around the room for more welcome signs. There was Dave Semenko, Craig Simpson and Jari Kurri. They’d be on my team. I saw why they called it a fantasy camp. One immediately feels a little like they are in a dream sequence. Then the bubble burst…oh shit. Glenn came in and said, “Craigers! You’ll do the national anthem”? I immediately said, “um…sure Captain whatever you want”. Nobody actually loves to do the anthem. The Freon in the rink puts a clamp on your throat and you are alone like the day you are born and the day you die. Everybody knows the words and the unspoken vibe emanating from the crowd is always, “don’t fuck up our nation’s song you cocky little bastard”. I also realized…holy shit…I have to play AGAINST Glenn.
The warm-up and shoot around was surreal as I skated by such iconic faces and said hi to some of the other players I had met the night before. The hyper talented women from Team Canada were also part of the proceedings and they would prove to be some of the most fun loving and talented players I had ever seen. Those gals can skate for days and not run out of gas…and they are soooo smart with the puck. Carla MacLeod, Kelly Bechard, Colleen Sostorics, Judy Diduck, and Shannon Szabados were just a few of those involved.
I made it through the anthem after croaking out the first few notes and then it was off to the bench. Without a full game summary I will say that I got off a pretty decent one-timer in the slot only to realize I was shooting low blocker on Bill Ranford. No goal. Not even a chance. On the same shift I hacked the puck away from Captain fun back in his own corner. I was pretty astonished. He probably let me do it. I still felt I had the power of a thousand men due to pure naïve adrenaline and Glenn was smiling and skating on 2 hours sleep. At one point I wheeled on the red line to show my stick to our defender for the pass and it hit my tape like a laser. The defenseman followed with fluid strides and we beat the pinching forward with a give and go. When I dished the puck back to him it sank in that this was Jari Kurri and I was seeing things from the exact (only amateur skills) perspective that the Great One would have seen a thousand times. That sequence burned itself into my brain forever. I got an assist on the play. I later forechecked the puck in their corner and hit our centre behind the net and he put it on the tape of one of the other campers who buried it. Our centre was Kenny Linseman. Wow. I got another helper before the final whistle and went to the dressing room feeling like I had jumped through some inter-dimensional wormhole in space. Where the hell was I? Who was I?
I showered and headed over to the adjoining casino where the Odds were to open a new venue called “Live” and Glenn’s party was to have it all to themselves. It was a really nice room and after some socializing with hockey royalty and some more fine food we cranked it up for a quick set of rock n roll. When I was getting ready to go I tracked down Glenn to let him know we were ducking out for our second gig across town. It was then that he said something I will thank him for forever.
He said, “Hey. You know you were really good out there today. I didn’t know what to expect but you are good. You know what you are doing. I’m going to have to trade you tomorrow to a different team”. I was speechless…which is rare. I mumbled some “aw shucks” stuff when I really should have started weeping with joy. All the hockey I had played since first meeting Glenn Anderson had somehow brought me to this place and that charitable statement. I know how I play. I have no illusions. I’ve seen the tape and I never want to watch it again! I just want to imagine that I am better than I actually am and Glenn had put my imagination over the top. Like the Grinch’s heart that grew ten times on Christmas day my “little boy hockey ego” finally grew to regulation size. I had graduated from hockey "wanna be" to average hockey player. Mission accomplished. The rest of the trip would be gravy. A Hall of Famer and 6-time Stanley Cup winner had complimented me on my game. I had been traded because I was good and not because my team sucked and we needed to make way for more talent. As we say in Canada, “F$#KIN RIGHTS”!
Afterward we quickly headed over to Whyte Avenue and did our own public show at “the Urban Lounge”. The show went quite well and the people of Edmonton filled the place up and were ready to have a good time right from the downbeat. Not far in the background stood Kevin Lowe and Ken Linesman who had skipped out of the Casino party and booked it over to the show. What an honour. Kevin is to Edmonton like Rudy Giuliani is to New York. After packing up our gear and getting out of the club at 2 am we headed back to “Party Central” for another couple of hours. Hmmm…I would feel this in the morning.
The morning came in the blink of an eye and I slipped down to the lobby for the shuttle to Rexall Place for our 3 on 3-tournament day. I shant go into too much detail but my team featured Judy Diduck and Ken Linesman as our pros. We were knocked out in the semi-finals by a team featuring Bill Ranford in net. It was a riot trying to figure out ways to beat him but in the end we couldn’t. After 4 straight games we were all spent and happy. I managed a few goals throughout the day and I can still close my eyes and see them go in under the brilliant glare of the Rexall lights. I still imagine it as Northlands Coliseum but I will honour the corporate donor with that name. Speaking of Northlands…Glenn took the whole posse on a tour of the Oiler’s dressing room. It was cool to see the whole inner sanctum in operation. The team was to arrive soon for a practice and everything was ready. It was an unexpected treat to meet Lyle “Sparky” Kulchisky who has been the Oiler’s trainer since the team was founded.
Glenn took the whole posse to dinner at Von’s Steak House and Oyster Bar. Great place. Best tuna steak I have ever tasted. The post dinner celebration moved over to the adjacent Cook County Saloon for some Alberta country loudness. The Oiler royalty had all finally assembled and it was a mob scene in there with Mark Messier, Paul Coffey, Kevin Lowe, Dave Semenko, Dave Hunter, Ken Linesman, Glenn, Ken Berry, and Jari Kurri all hanging out in a town that absolutely loves them. It was then back to party central and the music of Andy and Rene. Various Odds sat in on sing-a-long songs and no beer was left half full as we wound on into the sunrise.
I lifted my 75-pound head from the pillow too late to make it to the scheduled visit to Rexall for the Oilers practice. Instead we decided to race over to tonight’s venue (the Starlight Room) and set up and soundcheck for the final “Jersey Retirement Party”. My massive head and fragile stomach barely made it through the pounding kick drum and the dentist’s drill of my own guitar sound. The band raced over to Rexall so I could get on my gear for the final 5 on 5 game. Once again it was in its stall in the fully equipped visitor’s dressing room. Dwayne Mandruziak and the whole training staff were on hand to take care of all of our hockey needs. They are incredible pros and their graciousness, abilities and patience receive at least 5 stars. Our final “darks vs. lights” game under the Rexall clock featured one conspicuos new player. Paul Coffey, clad only in an Oilers tracksuit, skates and gloves, managed to wheel and drift through everyone like a wraith. Elegant may be the word but I’m sure there is a better one. He’s a great guy and an otherworldly talent. Glenn was on fire on this day and his bursts of speed up the wing had my brain playing tricks on me. He doesn’t wear a helmet anymore but if he had I think I would have been thrown back into that time warp again. The man still has it. He just toys with you and then flashes that grin and shows you what a 498 goal scorer can do. I had no gas left in the tank but I did my best to enjoy what would be my last whirl around the ice with these men and women. I had really enjoyed the camaraderie with my fellow “campers” and the hospitality of the pros. Gerry Byrne and Ryan Hughes had teamed up to organize this camp with Captain Fun and made so many amazing things happen without a hitch. I really have to hand it to those guys.
Yes…the big event was yet to come. Wearing our slick, retro Oiler jackets (courtesy of Glenn and the G9 games) everyone was limoed over to Rexall Place after a short spell of “R&R” at the hotel. Tonight was the pre-game ceremony during which Glenn’s #9 would be hoisted to the rafters. We were, as seemed customary, set up in a fully stocked corporate suite with a bird’s eye view of the whole thing. I would go into great detail about the ceremony but you can watch it all for yourself on this website. We all shed a tear here and there and everyone who took part in the weekend must have really felt they were up there with Glenn. He’s been congratulated and thanked a lot lately so I will just say one last time…congratulations and thanks to Glenn for including us all in your joy.
That night’s party at the Starlight was a rocking good time. We played a couple of sets and then shared an ale or two with campers, family, and Oilers young and not so young. The Oilers had beaten the Phoenix Coyotes 6-3 and were heading into a few days off so things were loose and up beat. After shutting the place down we headed back to “Party Central” for a song filled wind up that didn’t seem to want to wind down until the sunrise.
And so my hockey life came full circle thanks to Glenn Anderson. We met when I started playing the game and, 13 years later, I had been knighted by one of the kings of the greatest game on earth. I have had the sword touch my shoulders and can now walk through the veil and into the world as an average, self respecting, beer league hockey player. That is all a Canadian could ever want to be. Thanks for those four magic words Glenn, “hey you’re pretty good”.
We couldn't go 6 seasons without being allowed to appear on our favourite show. The brilliant writers found a way to write us geeks into an episode.
February 9th on CTV in Canada. We don't know when it airs in all the other countries but we will do some more research.
here's the schedule http://www.cornergas.com/home/#sched