WARNING!
This
article is reproduced from the album jacket of the record: The two sides
of Bobby Orr – Bobby’s instructional commentary as interviewed
by Don Earl. The album notes are written by Dick Grace, author of Orr
on Ice. This article is not for the feint of heart. It may well be the
most sycophantic ass-kissing drivel ever printed anywhere, but I digress,
you be the judge.
I
now present for your literary enlightenment the article in it’s
entirety. You may wish to get a bucket before beginning to read this.
Tip: it really helps if you read it aloud in a voice like the announcer
on Laugh In, or John Lovitz on SNL as King Richard the III in the Over-Acting
Hammy Shakespearean Emoters Troup.
BOBBY
ORR – ONLY ONCE!
“Tell
me a story – please, about Bobby Orr,” the little boy said
from his bed.
So
I bent down and told him of a boy and a man, Bobby Orr, already a hockey
legend. Now distinguished as the possible all-time great of the sport.
I
told the boy of the Orr family in Canada – mother; Arve, father;
Doug, sisters; Penny and Pat, and brothers; Ron and Doug. Jr., of Bobby’s
friends where the houses stand tall with pride in Parry Sound, Ontario.
In
this world of trouble, where words of wisdom are often refused, Bobby
Orr has come and built a name. One by one, two by two, his legions of
fans have grown into great fountains of applause as approval roars from
Boston Garden sellout crowds. It is a ceaseless flood that at times
drowns out all the worries outside. His actions are received by the
multitudes with a clapping of hands and throwing of hats. It is much,
the devotion and sincerity of the Bobby Orr fans.
The
National Anthem plays, there he stands with head lowered in respect.
Yet each straining voice is raised to him like the far-off murmur of
the sea, crying “Let’s go Bruins!” It’s 7:35
and another Bruins Sunday night game is underway.
There
is a shout and a rush of skating strides. Eager hope sits in the eyes
of thousands as they press together and yell, “Go Bobby, go!”
With quick perception of eye and flying feet to the puck…with
outstanding instinct…with a stick that is almost a magician’s
wand…he plays HIS game of hockey.
Bobby
Orr’s talents are lofty and bright, a subtle shaft of wit, and
that keen glance of intellect which has intuition and a deep spring
of human action, mixed with respect for others, tempered by rare humanity.
He also has a simple grace of style and singleness of purpose to his
profession. It’s a real man who skates under the number 4.
I
looked upon the child, to see if his young thoughts were following mine.
His blue eyes were glad listeners, and the breath of attention was on
his parted lips.
So
I continued to tell him how number 4, Bobby Orr, has brought excitement
to us all, an image of something to everyone. People know him best when,
skating in his strength, he soars up the ice and the Boston announcer
exclaims – “Goal scored by number 4, Orr!”
It
has been there for some time, that rugged cement rock called Boston
Gardens, where Orr’s deeds, records and the many marked trophies
that bear his mane shall be forever engraved in memory. In this life,
one name will never be lost amid any strife…bubbles may burst,
but we have and have had Bobby Orr.
He
is not any vain idol, ask any mother or father, or anyone. I know of
his genuine warm feelings for his faithful fans, young and old, boys
and girls. People lose themselves in him. I have seen youngsters with
teardrops falling from their eyes at the very mention of his name.
Lingering
voices of past Bruin’s teams lie in the Garden’s rocky heart
where bold fans have yelled it hoarse throughout the ancient cement
structure. Now a new shout’s there: the name of Bobby Orr is on
the ice and you will never melt it out. While the wonder and pride of
now accomplishments are ahead, his past records will always remain.
Each
of us is born for some purpose. Some, like Orr, a master of his art,
brings excitement to all people. How much our present worlds needs such
a hero.
Now
as I look down at the half sealed eyes, a quick shiver, and then the
boy is peacefully asleep. Another night of family security descends
upon the lonely, thankful minds of grateful parents.
“Go
to sleep, my son, with thoughts of Bobby Orr in our head.”
I
didn’t know Eddie Shore, Babe Ruth, The four Horsemen, and so
many others – but I do know the best – BOBBY ORR!
BOBBY
ORR – ONLY ONCE!
By
Dick Grace
“Orr on Ice”
--
Quick! Somebody pass me a bucket!! --
