When I was a kid I would pull out the old Remington typewriter, seen here, and compose letters to Maurice Richard and sometimes to the team in general. I’d sit at the kitchen table in our tiny house and click away as my mom baked or cooked nearby, and sometimes she sat beside me and offered advice on what to say to these larger-than-life gods who wore the CH.
I was answered many times. The Rocket sent me a Christmas card once, and the team would send programs and photos and nice letters from various office staff.
Rocket also sent signed photos, which I still have. One of them, in a frame, has been on bedroom walls wherever I’ve lived over the years. But if I was moving around or living with a bunch of people who liked to party and create havoc, which was the case often, the picture and my other treasures remained safely in a box until a more stable time.
Here’s what the Rocket sent. My dad trimmed the bottoms off two of them, which showed the Dow brewery logo. I guess he figured at 8 or 9 I was too young to be tempted by beer.