In the continuing series, Your Story, we feature another submission to “How I Became a Habs Fan.” Ian Scott Shackleton has agreed to share his experiences with us, in today’s edition.
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by Ian Scott Shackleton, Special to All Habs.net
Even though I was born in Southern Connecticut, Montréal is the birthplace of my mother, and is still home to a majority of my family. Oddly, my family is made up of a mix of Detroit and Boston fans. I can credit my great-grandmother, who bought me my first “jersey” when I was about 2, for introducing me to le bleu, blanc at rouge. But it was really growing up in the late days of Guy Lafleur, and then seeing a rookie sensation named Patrick Roy that sealed the deal. The rest is my small piece of 100 years of history.
Growing up Bleu, Blanc et Rouge in the Backyard of the Whale
SHORT BEACH, CT. — I was born about 80 kilometres from the Hartford Civic Center, home of the Hartford Whalers, just three years before Gordie Howe played his final season there. If there was ever a reason for a boy to grow up a Whalers fan, that would be it. But sometimes things don’t exactly turn out the way one would expect.
As I said, I was born in Southern Connecticut. But I was born a Canadian citizen, a fact I am immensely proud of. My mother was born and raised in Montréal. Most of her family still lives there. Montréal became my second home – visiting annually and sometimes twice annually – and I was more at home walking to the dépanneur at the end of the block than going to the market in my little suburban town in the States.
Being Canadian, hockey was in my blood. Sure, my grandparents would occasionally tune in the Expos game and have Alouettes season tickets. My Dad watched the Yankees, but real sports, the kind that created passion in its fans, was hockey. My grandfather played at the AA level, and later reffed. My mother, as a kid, would go to the games with her Dad. By the time I came around it was TV, and if there was a game on, it was on the TV in my grandparents’ den. Oddly enough though, they weren’t Habs fans. For my grandparents, it was Detroit, and Mr. Hockey, Gordie Howe. But, being in Montréal, more often than not, the game on TV was the Montréal Canadiens.
Back in Connecticut, things were a little different. Even with the Whalers, hockey was not really part of the public consciousness. By the time I hit elementary school, and the little Habs jersey my great-grandmother bought me no longer fit, it was time for little league try-outs; there was no peewee hockey in my home town. Luckily, there was still some hockey on TV, even if it was the Rangers and Whalers; and in the 21-team era, it was still a pretty regular occurrence to catch the Habs as New York or Hartford’s opponent.
The early 80’s was a great time to watch hockey, no matter what game you caught. The blond locks of Guy Lafleur could still be seen, thanks in part to the grandfather clause in the helmet rule; the Oilers dynasty was just beginning, thanks in part to a young Great One; and Super Mario would make his own appearance and impact on the game. But it was the 1985-86 season that changed the game for me. Names like the Rocket, Boom-Boom, Le Gros Bill, and the Flower had dominated the Habs, but now it was the era of the superstar goaltender – now it was the Saint Patrick era.
I wouldn’t say the ‘86 Stanley Cup changed anything – I always bled bleu, blanc et rouge – but it put the Canadiens back on the map, and in a way, maybe made it a bit easier to be the a Habs fan in Connecticut.
(Feature Photo: Getty)