Charles Bradley: Pucks, Pets and CAN-AM Camaraderie, Part II

Continued from Part I

Charles Bradley, black and blue thumbnail and all, is back in business and back in the game. At the Dunkin’ Donuts in West Concord, he’s his same old amiable self as he sits at the table next to my wife and me. Caring to the core about pets and humans like me, Charles listens to my wife describe my ongoing injury saga and makes a suggestion or two from his own experience as a hockey player and animal doctor. (You’ve probably seen the bumper sticker, “Be kind to animals. Hug a hockey player.” Right?)

Stop by Domino Veterinary Hospital (DVH), Charlie says; I’ll give you a brochure for the doctor that fixed my wrist.

He stands up to get in line for his coffee as my wife and I prepare to leave.

We run an errand and then meet Charlie at DVH in West Concord.

Paint greets our nostrils as a contractor applies color to the door leading to the reception area. We shuffle to the right and see Dr. Bradley.

Charlie rises from his chair in a side office and then leads us on an impromptu tour of the new facility. We walk from room to room, Charlie showing us machines for examining and treating dogs and cats.

If I were a patient or pet owner, I’d like the soothing, soft colors—including sage and beige—of the treatment and special procedure rooms and pharmacy that serve customers in Concord, Sudbury, Maynard and beyond. The place is bright and cheery. Just like Charlie.

He’s not about to apply for sainthood and is the first to admit the adversity he has endured in the aforesaid changing veterinary market. He left the profession, and the AMHL, a few years ago to dabble in the home renovation business, but that endeavor proved unsuccessful.

We move on, chatting about Charlie's drives through Vermont to Canada and listening to CBC Radio. Charlie asks if my wife and I are familiar with Stuart McLean. 

Of course. 

We agree that the Canadian storyteller-comic (born and raised in Montreal West, a few blocks away from Charlie’s Loyola High School) and McLean's The Vinyl Cafe program are akin to Garrison Keiller’s A Prairie Home Companion. (Dave and Morley, often featured on McLean's hour-long variety show, own a dog, Arthur.)

We reach the front lobby and discuss the nuances of Canadian parlance.

“He says ‘eh’ a lot less than he used to,” Dr. Bradley's assistant, sitting behind the new desk in these new veterinary digs, says.

But it’s not all about the “eh;” it’s also about the A, as in Yahoo!, Mazda and pasta. YEAH-who, MAZZ-duh, PASS-tuh, right?

“Right,” Charlie says, smiling about a Canadian’s propensity to end a sentence with an affirmative interrogative.

We change topics from linguistics to cross-border cooperation to Can-Am adventures and camaraderie, and ultimately circle back to hockey.

Are you over the devastation, my wife wonders, of the Canadiens losing in the first round? She’s not aware that Charlie told me ten years ago that he’s a Bruins fan.

“I made the conversion,” he says.

In an amped-up professional hockey environment where the lines between rivalry and rage often blur and can block us from seeing the beauty of our game, Charlie Bradley sticks out like a sore thumbnail.

“You call him Charlie?” his assistant asks.

“They’ve seen each other in garter belts,” my wife says.

Charlie explains that we hockey players assign pet names (my pun, not his) to each other, adding an –ie or –y to our first names. “Charlie, Jimmy…,” he says.

I can call him Charlie. And if I had a sick dog or cat, I’d call Dr. Bradley.

Charles Bradley: Pucks, Pets and CAN-AM Camaraderie, Part I

May 11, 2013

Saturday morning

West Concord, MA

The AMHL Photographer and I sit at our usual table at Dunkin’ Donuts, discussing an upcoming doctor appointment to address my Humpty Dumpty Groin.

She notices a familiar face entering the place, and I look left to watch Charles Bradley, an AMHLer, a veterinarian and one fine Canadian, approach. Wearing a solid bold blue short-sleeved shirt and smiling, he extends his right hand to meet mine.

Half of his left thumbnail is black and blue. Looks like a hockey injury to me. Charlie raises his hands, like a begging beagle, to reenact his awkward attempt to block a shot during a 3–1 loss on Tuesday morning. He laughs at himself.

Despite his Avalanche losing to the Leafs and his bruised lunula, Charlie seems happy, like the same fellow I got to know ten years ago, when he shared his hockey (and donut) story with me.

I asked him on that Tuesday morning in March, 2003, “Given your preference, Tim Hortons or Dunkin’ Donuts?”

Just then someone opened the fire escape door, not because of an emergency but because the door was closer to his car. This triggered a fire alarm bell.

“Tim Hortons,” Charlie said.

Tim Hortons, I say, OK.

“Definitely.”

I had a feeling, but there was a pause

“Because of the bell,” he says.

I switch from donuts to hockey and learn that Charlie was born and raised in Montreal (pronounced MUN–tree–all) and started playing hockey when he was four or five years old. 

“Our grade school was in Loyola Park, and we had four hockey rinks and one skating rink right behind us. The City maintained it.” Charlie said. “And in those days (1960s), we didn’t have really artificial ice, except for the (Verdun Auditorium) and Montreal Forum. Well, we played hockey every day; we played because the rinks were maintained by the City.”

These were outdoor rinks?

Charlie said, “Outdoor ice, yeah. And the guys would come out, the municipal workers would come out and flood every night. They were illuminated, and we could play all the time unless there was a thaw. It was great. That’s where we learned our skills.”

As we chat after his Tuesday morning game, comedian and AMHL mainstay Chris Howell interrupts us. “I just want to say that Charles Bradley is probably the biggest liar I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks a lot, Donut Boy,” Charlie replied, enjoying the friendly exchange.

After Donut Boy exited, I asked Bradley if he had aspirations of playing junior hockey.

Loyola High School, he said. "Pretty high-level hockey.”

The Jesuit-run school, created for English-speaking Catholics in the Côte-Des-Neiges—Notre-Dame-De-Grâce neighborhood of Montreal, resides on Rue Sherbrooke and is contained by Concordia University, a few blocks west of Parc Loyola.

Charlie wore the school’s maroon and white sweater.

“We did tournaments, and we were usually the champions or near the top in the Montreal league,” he said as the Zamboni did its thing around the Valley Sports rink. “And we had our rink, so that helped a lot. We skated every day. We skated probably about seven to ten hours a week. It was good for skills as well.”

After high school, though, hockey took a back seat to professional studies. He graduated from The University of Guelph Ontario Veterinary College and then worked at dozens of practices in the next almost twenty years, travelling from Ontario to New Hampshire and Massachusetts.

He found his way back to hockey, though. In 2000 or 2001, Charlie says that after learning of the AMHL at a Valley Sports Stick Time session on a Friday afternoon, he registered to play.

“I was really surprised at the level of hockey,” he said. “This is a nice league because, the difference to me, other than the time, is that everyone plays hockey for the fun of it. They don’t take it too seriously. That was a real put-off for me when guys were getting really really serious, competitive, and angry at each other, smashing each other and holding grudges. We don’t see that in this league. And the idea of rotating the teams through is really good. Having the time after for the CAM-uh-rah-duh-rie and fellowship, that makes it really good.”

But financial struggles—tough to earn find stability in a veterinary market where clinic ownership can change hands— took him away from his passions: taking care of cats and dogs and playing hockey. He dabbled in local home renovation, but that endeavor never took off. He and his family decided to move to Ontario in 2009.

Upon learning of the move across the 49^th Parallel, AMHLers expressed their respect for Charlie by email.

“On behalf of all the AMHL officials, we would like to extend our best wishes to Charlie and his family as they go back to the mother country. Bradley was a great competitor and statesman from Canada and will be missed,” wrote Referee Peter Bagley.

Terry Loebs: “I will remember Charles Bradley as the most accomplished backchecking defenseman in AMHL history, and the all-time leader in evoking the same question ("Is that guy playing 'D' or forward?")  among AMHL newbies. Good luck, Charles (eh?)”

Mike Schneider wrote, “Nicest guy off the ice. On the ice? Tenacious, quick, strong. A beast on defense. The kind of guy you fear going towards or fear may be on your heels. If you beat Charles, you know you played your best.”

Now, Bradley is back in business and back in the game. At the Dunkin’ Donuts in West Concord, he’s his same old amiable self as he sits at the table next to my wife and me. Caring to the core about pets and humans alike, Charles Bradley listens to my wife describe my ongoing injury saga and makes a suggestion or two from his own experience as a hockey player and animal doctor. (You’ve probably seen the bumper sticker, “Be kind to animals. Hug a hockey player.” Right?)

Stop by Domino Veterinary Hospital (DVH), Charlie says, I’ll give you a brochure for the doctor that fixed my wrist.

He stands up to get in line for his coffee as my wife and I prepare to leave. 

(To be continued)

The Hockey Show Radio Recap

I’ve written a half-dozen or so pieces about the New England Hockey Journal Radio Show (R.I.P.) but not about the new kid in town. Well, newer anyway: The AT&T Hockey Show on 98.5 The Sports Hub.

I, “Jimmy from Maynard,” was a regular caller into the program that Mick Colageo, Matt Kalman, and Kevin Paul Dupont hosted, and I’m using the same handle on the radio show that Ryan Johnston conducts with Bruins’ announcers Dave “Left to Right Across Your Radio” Goucher and Bob Beers. The show airs from 9:00 –11:00 a.m. on Saturday mornings.

Saturday March 2, 2013

“Fred from New Hampshire”

What a godsend, with his gratitude flowing for a long history of stellar Boston Bruins defensemen. Zdeno Chara, for example.

The big man performs the little things consistently: his positioning in the non–Euclidian corners, extending his circus stick at just the right instant to poke a puck of an opponent’s stick, and putting more pucks on net (I think Big Z has been taking lessons from Dougie Hamilton).

“How special...,” said Fred, to witness that twirl inside the blueline, the giant strides and the backhand shot, short side, shot to score against the Florida Panthers. The play (and maybe Jack Edwards’s call) reminded Fred of Julie Andrews. A Sound-of-Music, “Climb-Every-Mountain” kind of goal.

The Bruins’ Penalty Kill

“I can’t remember seeing anything like it,” Johnston said.

So well-positioned yet so aggressive. Face-off wins are key, too, and the Bruins are among the NHL’s elite. Too bad faceoff.com is already a registered domain, otherwise you might say the Bruins own it.

Beers said the Bruins are a net –2 on the year, explaining that opponents have scored only four power play goals and the Bruins have posted two shorties.

“Paul in the Car”

The moniker sounded familiar. Another NEHJ Radio Show remnant?

Paul said the Chicago Blackhawks, who have yet to lose a game in regulation, are over-rated, that if they had to play in the Eastern Conference, they wouldn’t fare so well against teams like the Bruins and Flyers.

Maybe not, countered our hosts. But anytime a team has earned 37 of 40 possible points, let’s give them credit.

Hockey Music

“…speaking of Julie Andrews,” I said. I asked the fellas what they’re favorite hockey music is, not necessarily songs played during games. Maybe a movie soundtrack?

The question caught them off guard, humored them. “I don’t know” was the initial consensus.

“Maybe something from Slap Shot?” someone said. “Maxine Nightingale?”

A wily producer found the music: "Right Back Where We Started From"

“Something form the Miracle soundtrack?...’Brass Bonanza’?”

“Brass Bonanza” is a song the NEHJ Radio Show folks loved to play. Miracle’s soundtrack was less memorable except for “Dream On” in the closing credits. And for what it’s worth, I find Ms. Nightingale’s love song to be, well, lovely—if not ironic for the backdrop of excessive violence. I am no longer drawn to the movie per se, but I won’t apologize for the soundtrack because “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word.”

So there you have it, Bruins fans, from the old to the new and back again, from Julie Andrews to Elton John.

Boston Bruins: My All-time Team

My wife asked me who I’d include on my all-time Bruins team. On the bench (and behind it), the list below has less to do with the players’ popularity or statistics than it soes with my personal connection to them.

Coaches:

Claude Julien, Don Cherry, Pat Burns. Who would be the head coach? Would they rotate executive leadership? I love Julien’s patience and imperviousness to those who question his line combinations. Grapes: Colourful with words and attire. Pat Burns: My wife once got special access to one of his press conferences (thanks, Steve Babineau) and developed a crush on Burnsie.

Goalies:

I didn't see Gerry Cheevers play, but I read about him first in George Plimpton’s book, “Open Net.” Cheesie was kind to me when he signed my copy of his memoir, “Unmasked.” Tim Thomas: Before the off-ice shenanigans tarnished his image, Timmy was superb between the pipes and delivered uncommon post-game quotes.

Defensemen:

Sorry Number fORR; I never saw you play and haven't met you yet. My wife and I did fly to the Big D to watch Ray Bourque, though. Ray-Ray (as my wife calls him), still wearing his Boston Bruins-issue hockey pants (magic marker couldn’t cover completely cover the Spoked B) was twenty days removed from The Trade. He logged more ice time than any other player as his Avalanche beat the Stars, 2–1. Don Sweeney, Bourque’s defensive partner, was under-sized and under-rated. One of the fastest players on any Bruins squad he played for, Sweeney’s work ethic and commitment to the Bruins lands him on my list. Gary Doak's  heyday was before my time here in Boston, but I hear tell of his shot-blocking acumen. Aaron Ward: His dedication to blocking shots and his proclivity with a stiff-arm to an opponent’s chest (as well as his fondness for the Boston Kreme) make him a favourite. Hal Gill: Yet another Boston Kreme fan, his most memorable goal was against the Avalanche (February 2003), a crafty shot from beyond the blueline that beat Patrick Roy.

Centers:

Patrice “Selke” Bergeron's demeanor and dedication to defense, as well as his face-off skills, endear fans to him. Derek Sanderson, who was also great on the draw, owned (owns?) a nobby Nehru jacket and a neat nickname. Reading Turk's memoir gave me hope for those who strive to redeem themselves. Jean Ratelle was before my time, too, but my dad (a Rangers fan) rooted for him. I’ve heard only fine things about Gentleman Jean.

Right Wings:

Stephen Herbert Heinze: I like this guy because he had the audacity to wear #57 (but not as a Bruin) and because I owned one of his game-used hockey sticks. I recall skating on a pond in Stow (MA), cradling the puck with that twig (remember my motto: wood is good). Willie O’Ree: Well-known for being the first black player in the NHL (again, before my hockey days), people respect him for his off-ice attributes. For example, he excused himself from his lunch guest to share, with my wife and me (on vacation in New Brunswick), his excitement about the Bruins winning the Cup in 2011. He said that after the Bruins swept the Flyers, he knew the B’s would go all the way. Miroslav Satan: The fire in the outside pit crackled and hissed as my wife and I joined a friend for Hockey Night in Hudson (MA). At this backyard gathering on a Saturday night in April 2010, we watched Satan score twice—the second goal in OT as the Bruins beat the Leafs.

Left Wings:

My wife’s favourite player is Marco Sturm. Whether he’s on a Bruins behind-the scenes show, wearing lederhosen, or front and center, scoring the game-winning goal in the 2010 NHL Winter Classic, Sturmie's smile is magnetic. John Bucyk: More Ukranian than Native North American, “Chief” is a happy go lucky whistler; at least that’s the way he seemed off-camera. Per Johan Axelsson: At a Wives' Charity Carnival (the year escapes me), I told him I admired his commitment to defense. “That’s my game,” he said. That was before he scored this beauty to beat the Blackhawks in 2008.

Healthy Scratch:

John Wensink played for my Colorado Rockies, but I don’t remember any of his game action. His wild hair and how his tough-guy persona is tempered by his fascination with doll houses (as documented in “Open Net”) means he belongs here.