Tag Archives: Ahuntsic

High Times for Max And P.K.

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For those who came here by mistake, don’t follow hockey, and are unsure of who’s who, Max is the one in the blue shirt.

Great news this week concerning P.K. Subban and Max Pacioretty. One who gave and one who received.

First with the Subbanator, who only a few days ago donated a cool ten million bucks (over seven years), to Montreal’s Children’s Hospital.

What a gesture by the 2015-16 Norris Trophy winner and key¬† member of next spring’s Stanley Cup-winning team. A big-hearted man of the people, and a guy with lots of money.

Rocket Richard gave to charities, visited hospitals, and accepted invitations to countless banquets, not only because certain duties were required, but because he truly loved kids. But in his day, if he’d handed over even a grand to a hospital, his house might have gone into foreclosure.

Whatever. Rocket then, P.K. now – it’s about caring and helping and loving kids and beating the shit out of the Leafs and Bruins.

We now tap our fingers and wait for Erik Karlsson to do something almost as good as what P.K. did. Is it possible? Or is P.K. truly one of a kind?

Maybe Patrick Kane might want to think about doing something like this too.

Next:

P.K. and the boys cast their votes, and Max Pacioretty was chosen by his buddies as Montreal’s newest wearer of the iconic C. A great honour and Max deserves it. He’s a class act on and off the ice, a dangerous sharpshooter, and obviously popular with his teammates.

Maybe his French leaves much to be desired, but hopefully some media folk and fans don’t get their shorts in a knot and just suck it up and let it be.

Habs fans missed having a captain last year, and now the letter is back in place. Max will look terrific when he accepts the Stanley Cup from wee Bettman next June.

Last year I sat with Max, Brendan Gallagher, Brandon Prust, and Tomas Plekanec at a table while they signed autographs, and while Prust and Plekanec hardly said a word and left as soon as they could, Max and Gally were as friendly as can be to all concerned, and stayed afterward and met people connected with the event.

Max’s dad and I have exchanged emails over the past several years, and I might sound like Don Cherry or Glenn Healy here, but I told Mr. Pacioretty a couple of years back that I thought his son would make a fine captain.

And because I mentioned Rocket’s house a few paragraphs ago, here’s a photo of it, situated in the north end of Montreal (Ahuntsic), where he raised a family while scaring the bejesus out of opposing forwards, defencemen, and goalies.

It’s a beautiful house on a corner lot, with a park and river across the street, and the main difference now, compared to when Maurice and his gang lived there, is the upper part, which is completely different than the original dwelling. That and different windows.

I took Lucy to see it, and she seemed impressed that it was Rocket’s house. I stress the word “seemed.”

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Here’s the original if you feel like comparing.

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Avoiding Montreal Potholes

To fool you into thinking this a timely playoff post, I’m leading off saying we were at Canadian Tire in St. Bruno yesterday and not only were all the employees wearing “Go Habs Go” shirts, but they were also giving away large posters like this:

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Now that the contemporary playoff section is complete, I move on to potholes and Maurice Richard’s house.

Today was a day to get out and drive around Montreal because we hadn’t done it in awhile. A little thing like a brutal four-month winter got in the way.

And we drove all over the place, looking at classic neighborhoods filled with apartments with winding outdoor staircases, with people coming alive and milling about, all capped off by smoked meat at Lesters. Beautiful.

However, the potholes everywhere are something to behold. It’s pathetic. I’ve never seen a city with so many large craters in the streets everywhere, ready to destroy cars.

My car had such a gentle life up until nine months ago, but I think it’s quickly becoming screwed. I just wish I owned a shocks and suspension shop. I might be rich enough to own the Habs.

And Montreal, if you’re going to have these ridiculous potholes, the least you could do is fill them in front of the house in Ahuntsic where Maurice Richard lived and raised his family and drove to and from the Forum.

It doesn’t seem right.

Below, potholes at the Rocket’s, who lived at the end of a normal and unassuming street. Although his place was nicer than any others.

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Below, Rocket’s house from the park across the street. Darth took me here last fall and today I took Luci as part of our Saturday drive. It still appears that no one lives here, although blinds are on the windows now.

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Rocket’s street.

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Scenes from inside this house in the 1950s.

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house

And a restaurant not far away.

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