Sam Pollock, the general manager of the Canadiens, had pulled off a masterstroke by obtaining the draft choice of the California Golden Seals who would become the very first choice of 1971. He had in his sights Guy Lafleur, the great star of the Remparts de Québec, who had just won the Memorial Cup, to replace Jean Béliveau, at the twilight of his career. He wanted it with CH and we supporters wanted it just as much. Think about it, Lafleur had scored 103 goals with the Remparts, an absolute record for a junior. But the hatching of the super star was not what we had initially hoped for.
Guy Lafleur took three seasons to get going. Relations with Scotty Bowman, the intransigent coach of the CH, nostalgia for Quebec (Lafleur multiplied the return trips to the national capital) and the difficulty of breaking through a line-up as talented as that of the Canadiens are the reasons that Lafleur himself even often invoked to explain his slow start among professionals. In fact, it was so tough that Lafleur almost went to play with the Nordiques in the new and rising league, the World Hockey Association.
It was in 1974 that he finally got going. I remember it like it was yesterday. Guy Lafleur des Remparts suddenly appeared as if by magic on the ice rink, his legendary blond mane in the wind (he had dropped the helmet). The punchy moves, the blistering shots, the skilful back passes and the “Guy, Guy, Guy!” were really born that year. With the legend of the Blond Demon.
For me who was in my early teens, a hero was born. My hero. I was literally riveted to the small screen and the sports pages to contemplate the exploits of this new ” Flying French Man who was to “burn” the NHL for six consecutive seasons, the star of one of the greatest sports dynasties in the history of sport, the Montreal Canadiens. Understanding my attachment to Guy Lafleur was basically quite simple. Guy was the best player in the league on the best team in the league. What more can be said !
It has been repeated a thousand times, and it was true. When Guy took the puck and raced into the opposing rink, it was all of us who took the puck and raced into the opposing rink. When he counted, we were the ones who counted. It was like in my parents’ time, with the Rocket or the Big Bill. Except that Lafleur, he was mine…
When he was unhappy or unhappy, so were we. I remember when he found out that some obscure players on the team were earning better wages than him. He had been on strike for a few days, before the injustice was quickly erased by management. CH didn’t really have a choice. Otherwise, his fans would have gone picketing in front of the Forum in his place.
The hero is unique in that he lives in perfect symbiosis with his admirers. Today, my hero of youth is dead, and it is a part of it that flies away with him. It only remains to salute the departure of this great player who was immensely talented, but above all, sensitive, human and generous. In short, a great man.
Thanks, Guy!