As we sat and waited for Desjardins to come to the podium at the Flyers practice facility and announce his retirement, I overheard someone say, “Classy that LeClair came up.” I looked around and didn’t see John anywhere.
It was a little more than a year since I had been in this particular press room. The last time it was a smiling GM Bob Clarke telling us of how Peter Forsberg was a Flyer. The room is small, sterile and very non-emotional. Today it was a room full of slightly tan reporters, some of whom I hadn’t seen since last year, catching up on what the summer had been like. It was really nice to see them again, and you could hear other reporters cutting on each other and talking about the Calder trade in a way that you could tell we are all ready for games again. Someone said, “Nice to be back, even if it is for a retirement.”
“He’s here.” someone alerted us. How did he sneak into this small room I thought?
Desjardins or “Rico,” as he’s known for his hip attire, sat behind the microphone at the small desk and before uttering a single word broke down and cried. Like that the casualness of the room was gone, the familiar laughter, the little quips vanished. Just like that, we realized we were in the presence of a rare and powerful moment.
Here was a classy athlete. A man who always stood tall for 17 years in a league where most player last five. A man who as Primeau would later say, “served as an important transition for the team. The Captaincy went from Lindros to Rico and then to me. And he was a big reason I was the Captain.” Here was a man who went under the knife countless times and worked like a madman to get back on the ice. A man that truly understood the grandness of this decision and the significance of this day. And now, he was in mourning and we were there with him.
The moment became so intimate that I needed to look away from Eric and saw Bob Clarke, sitting in a chair in the far to Eric’s right. Clarke is usually a poker faced GM that shows very little emotion. I realized soon that I wasn’t looking at Bob Clarke, I was looking at Bobby Clarke, and Flyers fans know the difference. Bobby Clarke, the player who lifted the Cup twice, was looking at Rico and feeling the pain and familiarity of how tough this moment is for a player of this intensity and emotion. The moment they walk away is brutal. Eric tried to gain composure, looked far to his right where Clarke was sitting-as if he was looking down the bench in 1974 for answers-and with a look Bobby Clarke assured him that he could do this.
Eric began to talk, “I had something planned….” He went on to say all the things that athletes say, about his teammates, the fans and the city. And then Eric said, “Excuse me while I speak in French to the people of Montreal.” Which he did sill fighting back his emotions.
At times he would lean back and look more relaxed, only to lean against the table again and fight back the tears. I have to admit, the tears would come at times I didn’t expect. Not when he was talking about “what he would miss the most” or about “the game,” or his teammates. The emotions would just sort of rise up and fight him. Later on a group of us were gathered around Keith Primeau and Chuck Gormley, a long-time South Jersey beat writer asked Keith the perfect question that nailed what was going on. What I had missed.
“Keith, did you find it interesting that when Rico broke down it was more about in regard to his ability to still play at this level?” Chuck asked. Players often stare into space in these kinds of scrums, but at that question Keith became very engaging and said, “That is exactly it. Rico is black and white. He knew it was time. When you saw how hard he always worked to be his best. How he recuperated from injuries. Rico knew that this was just the time.”
After the presser, some of us went over and asked Rico some more questions. You could tell he was more comfortable in this less formal setting. He started making his normal jokes and talked about how there were indeed teams that called him, but it was important to him that he retire a Flyer. Said as a French Canadian kid who won a Cup with Montreal that statement was more than wordplay. It was genuine. It was extremely heartfelt. It was Rico. He said he would take some time off and wasn’t sure about working in hockey, but instead said he thinks he would love to teach, referring to some work he had done with his niece recently that was extremely rewarding.
I was fortunate to get to ask him the last question of the day. It was the one question I was really hoping to get to ask. I wanted to know what it felt like in his most famous game? We all know it well…The ‘93 cup finals, the illegal stick, the power play goal that he tied the game with and the goal he scored to win it in OT. “You are a part of Montreal Canadien lore,” I continued, “and you always will be. As a kid growing up in Quebec, that must be amazing.”
“Yes, “ he said. And gave a big smile. He added that whenever he goes anywhere in Montreal people ask him about that game. He said that there was no better place to win a Cup than in Montreal and then he laughed and added there’s also no harder place to lose. He said he really wished he had won one in Philly to compare to that however.
There were no more questions, and then Rico said thank you and did something I have never seen a guy do leaving a media scrum. Rico turned and I caught him doing a quick fist pump. (A familiar one to Flyers fans who have seen Desjardins throughout the years) He saw I noticed it and smiled. He had put on a great face but in the end he was incredibly relieved to have gotten through this day. Only now could I see how much he dreaded this moment.
As we followed him into the hall, there stood John LeClair. Johnny had been watching from afar the whole time, just taking it in. He had been careful not to divert the spotlight one bit. Remember that LeClair also came from Montreal in that trade, and therefore played well over a decade with Rico. Very classy of this former Flyer to come in and be there today for his longtime teammate and friend. When Desjardins saw LeClair they did what only age-old friends can do. Say something to each other through a look without words.
Earlier, Desjardins had talked about the flight down to Philly following the trade from Montreal with John and Gilbert Dionne. “We were all really nervous not much was said on the plane, and then John said, ‘This will be OK,’ and suddenly it felt right. We lost that first game, and I was I think a minus 2. I remember it because the Montreal media wrote, ‘see that’s why they traded him, he’s losing it.’” We all laughed.
Back in the hall as LeClair and Desjardins continued to talk quietly to each other I heard some reporter say, “There’s your picture.” And he was right. This was what Desjardins was to the Flyers. He was a quiet and humble player who really made a difference and will be remembered fondly and missed for sure. A great defenseman right up there with the greatest Flyers D-man off all time, Mark Howe.
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