Tag Archives: Theo Fleury

Farewell, my sweet prince…

Posted by gruesomegreg on

Last night, I went to bed knowing that Jarome Iginla would be a Boston Bruin when I woke up.  It was pretty much a done deal, with TSN announcing the names of the two prospects, since forgotten, that Boston would be sending Calgary’s way, as well as a conditional first-round pick—if he re-signed with the club in the off-season.  Suffice to say I was somewhat surprised to see a picture of Captain Calgary affixed beneath a Pittsburgh Penguins logo when I walked past a TV screen a couple hours ago.  It turns out the Pens’ first-round pick wasn’t conditional, so I suppose that sweetened the pot.

But there are definitely some mixed feelings after the face of the Flames franchise fled town before free-agency.  Of course, it had become quite obvious that the team would need to trade him in order to get something in return, rather than risk re-signing a soon-to-be 36-year-old.  And just as dealing Joe Nieuwendyk to Dallas netted Iggy in the first place, the hope is that either Kenneth Agostino or Ben Hanowski, a pair of US college boys, will provide the same scoring punch.  Cuz you know that first-round pick is gonna be squandered.  Who’s the last Flames first-rounder to make a big impact?  Probably Dion Phaneuf.  Where does he play now?  I don’t wanna talk about it… :(

Still, it might be a stretch to say that Agostino (37 points in 32 games for Yale) or Hanowski (29 points in 34 games for St. Cloud State) will be able to almost single-handedly carry the team for 15 seasons the way that Iginla has.  If nothing else, it makes me cringe that Calgary’s next top-scorer could possibly be American.  Here’s hoping neither player happens to pay a visit to his alma matter on “Bring a Gun to School Day” or anything…  OK, I must digress.  But suffice to say that the NHL is a huge step up from the NCAA, and these two were fifth- and third-round picks, respectively.  Now, if they had been picked in the middle rounds by the Red Wings, I might have more confidence in them, but the Pens built their franchise with first and second-overall picks (I don’t really need to name them, do I?), not in the late rounds of the draft.

And you can’t expect some college boy to replace the World’s Greatest Edmontonian, who took the torch from the flailing hands of Theo Fleury and tallied no fewer than 28 goals a season from 1998 onwards.  This is a guy who, despite not having an offensively gifted centreman since Marc Savard was shipped to Atlanta for an oversized Russian pylon who preferred to divert traffic in Magnitogorsk, won the Art Ross, the Lester B. Pearson and the Rocket Richard trophy, the latter on two separate occasion.  With just a little help from Martin Gelinas and Miikka Kiprusoff, my favourite black person on the face of the earth (Ice Muthafuckin’ T is number two with a bullet) nearly brought home the Cup in ’04, and man, I would’ve driven up to Edmonton just to see him parade it around his old neighbourhood in his flaming C.  (But alas, twas not to be.  Don’t get me started on “Hockey Bay USA,” either…)

As a matter of fact, last night I cried tears I hadn’t cried since Theo Fleury became an Avalanche, Bret Hart got screwed at Survivor Series, or Doug Flutie was sold to Toronto, of all places.  So this is farewell, my sweet Afro-Canadian prince.  Check Phaneuf into the boards for me, eh? ;)

About these ads

Let’s get ready for rrrrrrenters—New Dungeon-keepers needed for historic Hart House!

Posted by gruesomegreg on

The hottest piece of real estate to hit the Calgary rental market since Theo Fleury’s private booth at The French Maid went up for grabs can now be yours for a cool 10-grand a month!  It may not come with lap-dances, but the six-bedroom, seven-and-a-half-bathroom mansion owned for decades by the first family of Canadian wrestling has been listed on rentfaster.ca with its landlord seeking a $15,000 security deposit for a one-year lease.

The listing trumpets the state-of-the-art sound and security systems, as well as a library, home office and gym, but makes no mention of The Dungeon, the notorious training centre where several young grapplers cut their teeth—and their foreheads—during Stampede Wrestling’s heyday.  I suppose the smell of Chris Benoit’s sweat doesn’t do wonders for property values…

In any case, the squared circle in the basement has reportedly gone the way of the Thesz press.  According to the Calgary Herald, “The famous dungeon where Stampede Wrestling was born has been converted into an airy, light-coloured home gym, complete with a heavy bag.”  I guess the light colours mean it’s only a training ground for baby-faces now, eh?

That said, you won’t hafta worry about The Hitman locking you in a Sharpshooter if you don’t pay the rent on time.  The Herald reports that the Hart family sold the place in ’04, and it’s now owned by a local restaurateur.  Are you ready for apple crumble?

(Believe it or not, I haven’t watched wrestling in years.  But if you grew up in Alberta not rooting for the Hart Foundation, then you musta been from Edmonton. ;) )

Even after the book, Theo Fleury’s still playing with fire…

Posted by gruesomegreg on

Growing up in Calgary, I had three heroes: Doug Flutie, Theo Fleury, and Bret “The Hitman” Hart.  But within a three-year stretch, all of them broke my heart: Flutie signed a million-dollar contract with Toronto in ’96, they screwed Bret in ’97, and in 1998, Fleury was traded to Colorado at the deadline.  That’s pretty much when I knew I had to get the hell outta Dodge.

Fleury’s life was never the same after leaving the Flames, with subsequent stops in New York and Chicago seeing him come unglued.  He talks about this at length in his book, Playing with Fire, which hit the shelves in ’09.  After coming clean with his story, pressing charges against Graham James and becoming a sought-after public speaker and spokesman for child abuse, it seems that he’d gotten things back together.  But as Playing With Fire, the documentary film that follows the former Flame after his literary success shows, all is not well with Theo.

For one thing, the guy speaks like he could’ve been a writer for the Trailer Park Boys.  I understand there’s a lotta cursing on the ice, though you’d think most players keep themselves in check away from the rink.  But not Fleury.  Although some of his outbursts are somewhat amusing, like his reaction to being voted off Battle of the Blades, you get the sense that something’s still eating away at him–and it certainly is.

Along with following Number 14 to recent events, like the 2011 Heritage Classic or his induction into the Moose Jaw Warriors hall of fame, the film also allows him to retrace his steps, from Russell, Manitoba to the apartment where he was abused in Winnipeg, through to Moose Jaw, Calgary–and his later NHL teams, who wouldn’t even let him into their rinks for filming.  (The parking guys at MSG still love him, though.)  And when driving through Santa Fe, the city he escaped to during his NHL suspension, Fleury had a bit of a breakdown when he couldn’t find his old house, the one where he almost died.

This is certainly a warts-and-all portrayal of the man who once led the Flames in career scoring (until some kid named Iginla came–and stuck–around), and he doesn’t really come off the better for it.  Y’see, unlike the print version, Playing with Fire isn’t told entirely by its subject.  Some of the interviews with others are quite revealing, as it seems that Brian Sutter still isn’t a big fan–and neither is Fleury’s ex-wife.  Not that she doesn’t have good reason to be upset with him…

Though I wouldn’t say I looked up to the guy (I’m a lot taller than he is), I used to see Theo as a hero in his Flames days, especially in the rock-bottom Young Guns years.  He may have been the smallest guy out there, but he could really skate, score and wasn’t afraid to stick up for himself, either.  His book, although it unearths some pretty touchy truths, still contained plenty of warm hockey nostalgia–particularly for Flames fans.  But the movie strips away all that, barely touching on his playing career while dealing with his demons off the ice.  It’s certainly hard to idolize Fleury after seeing this film, which shows that he was never such a nice guy, after all.  So much for that childhood illusion…

So, this is the year I discovered HotDocs…

Posted by gruesomegreg on

Though my initiation to the Toronto Film Festival began within a couple weeks of moving out here, I had never really done the HotDocs thing before.  Sure, I’d seen The Story of Anvil in ’08 and Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage a couple years back at the Winter Garden Theatre, but I’d never taken in a set of smaller screenings in one sitting like I’ve been doing at TIFF for some six years now.  I suppose the construction of the Bell Lightbox has something to do with it; a large, upscale cinema along the subway line–or maybe there’s just some really good films this year.

On that note, I caught the Jason Becker biopic Not Dead Yet last weekend and saw the midnite screening of Warped Tour doc No Room For Rockstars last nite (or rather this morning, I suppose).  Got my ticket in hand for Theo Fleury:Playing with Fire at the Lightbox tonite (I’ve already read the book), and am wondering whether it’ll cool down enough by 9:30 for me to bust out my ’99 vintage Flames jersey.  Mind you, it doesn’t have Fleury’s name on the back, but Marc Savard’s…

And while I must say that I’ve never stood in a Rush line at TIFF, always buying my tickets ahead of time, I am quite prepared to do so tomorrow.  I missed out on the Jay Bulger doc Beware of Mr. Baker when it was shown in my neighbourhood last weekend, but I’ve been keen on catching it ever since I saw the zany trailer before it screened at SXSW a couple months ago.  Apparently, Ginger’s been up to some crazy shit since he disappeared from the spotlight–not that he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary back in the day with Cream, either.  This one’s a 1 pm showing at the Lightbox tomorrow, and I intend to be the first in that Rush line.  (Incidentally, I didn’t stand in Rush for Beyond the Lighted Stage–I pre-purchased my ticket for that one.)

Oh, and here’s that crazy trailer I was talking about:

“It’s hard to believe Theo Fleury survived his own life” (Thanks, Globe and Mail!)

Posted by gruesomegreg on

In case you didn’t hear the news, former junior hockey coach and long-time kid diddler Graham James pleaded guilty the other day to sexually assaulting two more former players, including Theo Fleury.  Oddly enough, I had just finished reading Theo’s autobiography, Playing with Fire, in which he opens up about his abuse for the first time, a couple days beforehand.  First of all, there’s no doubt that James is a sick fuck and he deserves to rot in the same jail cell as ex-Judas Priest drummer Dave Holland.  Secondly, Theo’s one helluva story-teller.  I know he dictated the book and didn’t put pen to paper himself, but his ability to recall names, dates and statistics is uncanny.  It really strengthens the narrative.

And this is a story that any Flames fan would wanna read, as his adult life was deeply connected to the team.  From the Stanley-Cup-winning squad of his rookie season, to the “Young Guns” years where he carried ‘em on his back, right up to the trade to Colorado that (eventually) brought in Robyn Regehr–and even a look at today’s team in the added chapter about his unsuccessful comeback, Fleury remembers it all, and certainly reading it brought back some memories to me.  There are also some great stories about current and former Flames that you won’t find anywhere else, like that of a young Jarome Iginla jumping in a freezing lake for 300 bucks, or scoring drugs from ex-tough guy Sandy McCarthy.

Off the ice, Fleury’s life was a bit of a mess.  From getting tag-teamed with Sheldon Kennedy by James (more of a one-on-two, really), through the drinking, drugs, and divorces, the dude did stuff that would make Kenny Powers proud–cept this ain’t no TV show.  And he paid the price.  Banned from the NHL, sitting there in Santa Fe with a gun barrel rattling between his teeth…  Like The Globe and Mail said, it’s hard to believe he survived his own life!

One story seems particularly relevant in today’s climate, aside from the whole James incident that’s brought Theo back into the spotlight.  During the NHL lockout, Fleury went up to play with a Native team in Northern Alberta called the Horse Lake Thunder, with the likes of Gino Odjick, that went on to play for the Allan Cup.  The chief of the reservation bought all kinds of gear and booze for the players, once dropping 10-grand on a bar tab, and this small settlement six hours northwest of Edmonton had “one of the most beautiful rinks I have ever played in outside of the NHL. … It was brand new and cost more than $9 million.”  Apparently, they got a lotta royalties from the oil industry, but still, you gotta wonder what kinda shacks some of ‘em lived in up there, eh?

But I digress.  If you wanna read a hockey story that makes Slap Shot seem bush-league, it’s worth investing in this book.  Me, I paid $5.99 for a tattered copy with a torn cover at the same time that I picked up The History of Punk Rock for 10 bucks.  Thanks, discount book sale!