From the
time I was 10 years old and my dad worked at the Akron Beacon Journal in Ohio,
I knew I wanted to be a reporter. I
thought I was going to be a sports reporter, but when I got out of journalism
school I gravitated toward covering urban affairs.
While
covering that beat for the Columbus Dispatch in the mid- to late-1990s, I got
to go on a tour of NHL facilities, because local leaders were bringing at NHL
expansion franchise to Ohio’s capital city.
By far the
kindest, most accommodating person was Bill Torrey. I knew him well, or I
should say I knew about him, from watching the New York Islanders win the
Stanley Cup every year of my four years in High School in suburban Northeast
Ohio.
Cable TV was
a brand new thing in our town and a New York superstation broadcast the
Islanders. I became a fan before the winning and got so into hockey, I bought a
Strat-O-Matic hockey game to take on the role of Islanders Coach.
Torrey, as
GM then President, was the architect of those great teams with Dennis Potvin,
Mike Bossy, Bryan Trottier, Billy Smith and Clark Gillies.
My tour of
the NHL was to write stories about the impact expansion teams had on their
community. Torrey had led the expansion Florida Panthers when people thought NHL
teams in warm weather cities was absurd.
Within a few years, his team was in the Stanley Cup final.
Our interview
was set up for a game day in Sunrise Florida, where the Panthers played after
moving from downtown Miami. This was before the internet and smart phones.
I figured I’d
meet some public relations intern and a rookie marketing/sales type and that would
be it. But in the bowels of the new
arena, out came the familiar bow tie wearing Torrey.
He offered
me food from the spread put out for the media.
I declined. He pecked at a sandwich and indulged my questions – some
maybe on the money, perhaps some totally off the wall and out of left field.
Thoughtful,
kind, respectful answers were given. All the while, I was praying Dispatch
photographer Tim Revell was getting me in at least one of the shots, so I’d
have a keepsake of me working in action, interviewing a Hockey Hall of Famer.
I started
asking my questions rather rapidly, sure that this legend of the game and very
important man in the Florida Panthers franchise would be yanked away from me
any moment by some PR official.
Not at all.
The kind man told me he had all the time that I needed. His thoughtful responses made it very easy to
tell Columbus – a city too close to Cleveland and Cincinnati to ever have its
own pro sports franchise till the NHL came calling – what joy was in store when
the Blue Jackets would take the ice in Nationwide Arena.
When I moved
to Miami in 2000, I looked up Mr. Torrey.
We stayed in touch and he offered me advice when I was reinventing
myself after a 13-year career in newspapers.
His kind,
firm, always positive words kept me on focus as a worked in public relations, public
service, then marketing. I hadn’t bothered him for a good decade by the time he
passed away Wednesday evening at the age of 83.
Bill Torrey
was a great man. He was a good man.
He earned
enough accolades to fill a room, but he was humble, thoughtful and warm with a
youngish reporter more than two decades ago.
Personally,
I’m pretty sparse on my vision of the afterlife.
But as I
think warm thoughts about the bow-tied architect of the Islanders and Panthers
franchises, I know Bill Torrey is in hockey heaven today.
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