It is considered among the holiest of Canadian hockey relics, and instead of bowing down before it, Don Cherry was giving it the finger
It is considered among the holiest of Canadian hockey relics, and instead of bowing down before it, Don Cherry was giving it the finger. Someone suggested an index finger would be more polite and photogenic than Cherry's meaty middle digit, and the septuagenarian -- perhaps sensing his karmic faux pas -- happily made the switch.
"I guess you can't do that," Cherry said.
But Cherry can do anything, and say anything, at any moment. That is who he is, and Monday morning at the Hockey Hall of Fame in downtown Toronto he was being his unpredictable self.
The script heading in to the made-for-media event was simple enough to follow. Cherry appeared at the hockey museum to unveil the lucky loonie, the supposedly charmed coin that was buried beneath centre ice at main hockey venue at the 2002 Salt Lake Olympics. If one believes in lucky charms, it's secret presence helped motivate Canada's men and women hockey teams to their gold medals.
Wayne Gretzky, the architect behind the men's team, donated the famous dollar to the Hall several years ago. It resides in a plastic display case, and is set into a puck that has been sliced in two. Cherry's role was to remove the plastic and be the first of what the hockey museum is hoping will be many Canadians to poke the coin in advance of the Olympics.
Save for the hiccup with the middle finger, the poking went off without a hitch.
"I think it is great to come down and at least touch it," Cherry said. "The fact that it was there, and we won, and Gretzky and Lemieux and Yzerman, all those guys skating over top of it, it is really something ... "
Cherry's voice trailed off, which is when the trouble started. Cherry is a man of opinions, and in his mind, he is always right. In this case he was right. Even without the plastic cover the lucky loonie was nearly impossible to see. One could poke at it, but to actually get a good look at it -- entombed in its half-puck -- was problematic.
Cherry interrupted the proceedings to make a suggestion to Phil Pritchard, the Hall of Fame curator, that one of the puck halves be removed for enhanced viewing. Pritchard explained that would be impossible. Cherry pressed on.
"I can't see it," he said. "Can you guys see it very good? I can't see it too good. Just thought I'd mention it, that's all. But it's worth it to come down. I wish they could see it a little better -- but just to touch it, I think it will mean a lot to the kids. Maybe my eyes are going."
The former Boston Bruins coach said he believes in luck and that sometimes being "lucky is better than being good," though he is not one to cart a rabbit's foot around in his pocket.
"Maybe my lucky charm was Bobby Orr," he said.
Phil Esposito, another old Bruin, was the most superstitious player Cherry ever coached. His dressing room stall was decorated with Italian horns, and crosses, and he would lay his sticks in a precise position and "go bananas" if they were disturbed. Wayne Cashman, a dressing-room prankster, would fiddle with Esposito's arrangement to stir the pot. Cherry chuckled at the recollection.
And that was it. He was done poking and reminiscing and problem-solving, and was preparing to leave when he spied two little boys on the periphery of the cameras. The first Canadian to touch the lucky loonie since Gretzky made sure Luke and Jack LaPalm were the second and third.
"You can't see it, I know," Cherry told the brothers.
Turning back to the cameras, the unpredictable old coach did the most predictable thing he had done all day: Cherry smiled and flashed the thumbs up.