Johnny Gaudreau will be remembered for his ability to dance around a defenceman, to bring every person in a jam-packed arena to the edge of their seats.
The former Calgary Flames star will be remembered as a wizard with the puck on his stick, as one of the NHL’s most dynamic and electrifying offensive talents.
And yet, as the hockey mourns the sudden and tragic loss of both Gaudreau and his younger brother Matthew, the replay running through my mind isn’t a highlight-reel goal or a how-the-heck-did-he-see-that-guy? sort of assist.
I picture Johnny Gaudreau running through the concrete tunnels on the lower level of the rink in Los Angeles.
It must have been nearly 11 p.m. PT on Dec. 22, 2014. Gaudreau, in the midst of an impressive introduction as a rookie left-winger, had just scored his first hat-trick, capped by a pair of goals in the final 2:12 of regulation. The Flames completed an improbable comeback in overtime.
All good. Except that Gaudreau was now crunched for time as he hustled to LAX, desperate to catch a red-eye flight to Philadelphia so he could maximize his time at home for the holidays. He didn’t leave much wiggle-room for OT, or for the media duties that come with first-star honours. After a quick interview, I followed him out of the visiting locker-room at what was then known as Staples Center. He’d soon accelerated to a near-sprint.
This moment sticks with me for two reasons.
As a reporter, you remember when the story-of-the-night spots you standing by his stall and, even with a valid excuse to beg off, carves out a couple of minutes so you won’t have to explain to the bosses why you travelled all the way to L.A. and somehow missed the obvious angle. A kid who had always been told he was too small for the NHL, Gaudreau never seemed to let his stardom — and ultimately superstardom — go to his head.
And that image of the standout forward, struggling for traction in dress shoes on a slick floor, provided a snapshot of what was always most important to him. Johnny Hockey loved to be surrounded by his loved ones, where he was just John.
The Gaudreaus are as tight a family as I have covered throughout my career. I was working on a prospect feature on this fourth-round pick from 2011 when Johnny’s coach at Boston College told me that the wee winger was still growing comfortable with the individual spotlight, saying he just wanted to be “one of the boys.” Above that, though, he just wanted to be one of the Gaudreaus. That was his team.
The entire hockey world is now hurting for this family after an unthinkable tragedy. Johnny, 31, and Matthew, 29, were riding bicycles along the side of a road Thursday in Salem County, N.J., when they were struck by a suspected drunk driver. Charges have been laid.
It’s gut-wrenching to think of their proud parents, Guy and Jane.
There’s the infamous story, of course, that Guy taught Johnny to skate by spreading Skittles across the ice. Those candy-coated practice sessions worked wonders.
When you tweeted something nice about Johnny, perhaps sharing one of the many jaw-dropping stats that he accumulated in nine seasons in Calgary, Jane had usually clicked the like button faster than her son had sprinted through Staples Center on that December night. And sometimes one of Johnny’s sisters — Kristen or Katie — had still beat her to it.
When the Flames clinched a playoff spot and were being billed as a could-be Stanley Cup contender in 2021-22, I remember Johnny telling me his dad had already booked a flight to attend Game 1 at the Saddledome. When I asked how long he’d stay, Johnny replied that he’d be stunned if he left before the Flames were eliminated. And he passed that on with a massive smile. Not every 20-something would be thrilled with the idea of having a guest in the spare room for a four- or even eight-week visit, but Johnny was.
When Gaudreau signed that summer with the Columbus Blue Jackets, the allure of being closer to home was the biggest reason — maybe the only reason — for leaving Calgary. Along with his wife, Meridith, he had since started his own family. Noa soon turns two, while Johnny Jr. was born in February.
When the Flames faced Gaudreau for the first time, I was assigned to travel to Columbus a couple of nights early, to be sure I’d be able to catch up with him before game-day.
I arrived just in time for puck-drop as the Blue Jackets played host to the Buffalo Sabres. The home team was trailing 6-0 at the first intermission, the kind of butt-kicking that would leave every skater in a sour mood.
Johnny, again, could have refused an interview.
But he stood that night by his locker-stall, telling me about how much his life had changed over the previous few months, how his diaper-changing skills were starting to improve.
The conversation turned to hockey, to his old pals on the Flames, but not for too long.
“I’ll hopefully have a few of the guys over for dinner,” he beamed. ”They’ll get to meet my daughter Noa.”
Family first.
Your heart breaks for them.