Tag Archives: Normand Richard

Rare And Snazzy Habs Rags

The 7-1 Canadiens, in a dogfight with Anaheim for first overall, are in Edmonton for a Monday night tilt with the 3-4-1 Oilers, who sit 26th overall. We could feel confident about this, but you know how that works out sometimes.

And the Oilers have won their last three games, so they’re feeling better and probably playing better than they have lately.

Game time is 9:30 eastern, which means a lot of beauty sleeps, including mine, will come into play at some point.

In the meantime, as we work our way towards this game in Alberta, I’ll throw this out……..

You might have already seen some of these pictures in different posts here. But I”m very proud of all this. Vintage Habs stuff from my childhood is a huge passion of mine.

So without further ado:

Toe Blake, trainer Hector Dubois, and the whole gang had nice team jackets.

Toe

Dubois

And so do I. Except this isn’t me. I have a face. Sort of.

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Maurice Richard, Jean Beliveau, and the whole gang had nice team sports jackets.

Jean's jacket

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And so do I.

jacket

And I have a bag to put it all in.

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Normand Richard wore a sweater while with his dad.

Normand

I’ve got a bunch of them from that era, only different.

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white sweater

socks

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The White Sweater

I know it’s hard to tell, but my white kids’ Habs sweater, from the late-50s, early-60s, is quite similar to the one Rocket’s son Normand, who is my age, is wearing in the picture below it. Although his isn’t a turtleneck.

I have a lot of vintage kids’ Habs sweaters, and this white one is my favourite. Probably because when I was a kid, to see the white version in any store was very rare.

white sweater

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La Famille Rocket

The Maurice Richard family. from left – Maurice Jr., Hugette, Lucille, Suzanne on Rocket’s lap, Normand, and Andre on the floor with his teddy bear. This is circa 1958. Two other boys, Paul and Jean, would round out this family.

I’ve read that Maurice Jr. was a fine hockey player, his nickname was “The Little Rocket,” but he became the subject of adults in the stands who gave him grief for not being as good as his dad. Normand was a decent athlete too, but also heard nasty remarks because he happened to be the son of such an icon. For whatever reasons, when it comes to certain adults or other parents in the stands, some can be absolute imbeciles.

Wondering About Normand

From my archives – May 7, 2008

The young fellow posing with the Rocket is Normand Richard, Rocket’s second oldest son (behind Maurice Jr.). Normand is my age within a few months, and I thought he was the luckiest kid in the world. Imagine being the son of the great Maurice Richard!

I used to daydream about what it would be like being the Rocket’s son, about how Normand would go to  games at the old Forum and sit in special seats reserved for his family and watch his dad, the hero of so many, scoring the big goal with thousands of people cheering his name.

I’d wonder what it would be like at home, having dinner and listening to stories about life in the NHL and games in the other five cities. I thought about the other Canadiens who would visit the house, and the fishing trips Normand would go on with his dad.

These were daydreams an eight or nine year old boy dreamed.

When the great Rocket passed away in 2000, I watched the funeral on TV, and I saw glimpses of Normand. He was fifty then, on crutches from a broken leg, and his face held indescribable grief. I’d heard many times over the years how close he had been to his dad, and it was very sad to see him saying goodbye.

For a lot of reasons, I’ve felt a bond with Normand, and I really love this picture at the top of this page.

As The Scrapbook Turns – Part Three

Part three of the old scrapbook deals with newspaper clippings about the Rocket, plus Bernie Geoffrion and wife Marlene, and all the usual suspects – Toe Blake, Charlie Hodge, Pocket Rocket, Jean Beliveau, Tom Johnson, Habs in baseball uniforms, Rocket and son Normand, (who I’ve been eternally envious of), the Rocket meeting the Queen, him in a convertible in Czechoslovakia, and all the other little things that you can enlarge by double-clicking on the photos.

Parts 1 and 2 can be found by either scrolling down or going over to “Categories” on the right side and finding “The Old Scrapbook.”

 

Little Things That Don’t Mean A Whole Lot

You know those crests on team jackets that were made of chenille and would bleed the colours when they got wet? Do they still make those? The Montreal Canadiens used a couple of varieties of chenille crests in the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s, and I have one from the 1950’s.

Below is my crest and the same type on Rocket’s jacket. (With son Normand).

Is this serious blogging or what?

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Normand Richard Is The Friend I Never Met

 The young fellow posing with the Rocket is Normand Richard, Rocket’s second oldest son (behind Maurice Jr.). Normand is my age within a few months, and I thought he was the luckiest kid in the world. Imagine being the son of the great Maurice Richard!

I used to daydream about what it would be like being the Rocket’s son. About how Normand would go to  games at the old Forum and sit in special seats reserved for his family and watch his dad, the hero of so many, scoring the big goal with thousands of people cheering his name.

I used to wonder what it would be like at home, having dinner and listening to stories about life in the NHL and games in the other five cities. I thought about the fishing trips Normand would go on with his dad. And I thought about my dad, a sign painter, an ordinary man with very little money, and how our tiny little house surely wouldn’t measure up to the house Normand and his dad lived in.

These were daydreams an eight or nine year old boy dreamed.

When the great Rocket passed away in 2000, I watched the funeral on TV, and I saw glimpses of Normand. He was fifty then, on crutches from a broken leg, and his face held indescribable grief. I’d heard many times over the years how close he had been to his dad, and it was very sad to see him saying goodbye. 

For a lot of reasons, I’ve felt a bond with Normand, and I really love this picture at the top of this page.