Happy Mother's Day everybody. I hope you've all managed to be emotionally close even if physically distant. Me, I've heard from my four grown children and my heart is filled.
And speaking of hearts, (smooth transition, eh?) it was 50 years ago that Bobby Orr of the Bruins scored one of the most memorable points in Boston sports history when he slid the puck into the net to cap a four-game sweep of the St. Louis Blues in the Stanley Cup final. In overtime, no less. For a 13 year old teenager growing up in Worcester, my friends and I fell completely in love.
Bobby Orr, with his boyish good looks-- kind of a cross between Brian Caan and Robert Redfield, a bashful charm, and super-human abilities, offered something for everybody. Men wanted to be like him, older women wanted to mother him and young women and girls wanted to marry him.
Fast forward a few decades and the Worcester teenager moved to Cape Cod to sell residential real estate. As a realtor I got an invitation in the mail inviting real estate agents to a "meet and greet" at the Ridge Club golf community in Sandwich. To help promote sales at the club, we had the opportunity to meet one of the owners--- Bobby Orr.
Would I attend? Do you even need to ask? Apps, wine and...Bobby Orr. Oh my word, what could be better? Bobby was a complete gentleman--supremely gracious and patient with the long line of realtors waiting to get a photo and a few words with him. I sat down next to the Bruins great for my one minute while a fellow realtor grabbed a photo with my cellphone. I never thought I could put meeting Bobby Orr on my bucket list, but here he was anyway. Cross that one off the list. An unexpected bonus for my life.
Until I watched the news tonight, I hadn't realized it was 50 years ago that Orr scored that goal, made iconic by a photographer who captured the precise second that Orr flew horizontally above the ice in celebration, in the now famous "Flying Bobby" shot. 50 years.
So Happy Mother's Day once again. And thank you Bobby Orr, for reminding us five decades on that you stole the Stanley Cup hopes of the St. Louis Blues, and you stole the heart of a starry-eyed teenager in Worcester.