Like everyone else, I was shocked to hear the news Wednesday of the passing of Wade Belak. And while many have started the speculation on what this means and how we contextualize it in both our hockey worlds and real lives, I’m going to reserve comment until we know more about the “why” instead of the “how” in this story.
Right now, I’m just going to think about Wade.
For many, it will go down as a “where were you when” moment and, for me, it was at a meeting of the Society for International Hockey Research in downtown Toronto, a few blocks away from where Belak was found dead five hours earlier.
Former Leafs assistant coach and Carolina Hurricane pro scout Ron Smith along with his son Devin who works at the NHL Players’ Association were keynote speakers but as the news broke about Belak it was all people could think and talk about.
And the stories and comments were all similar.
“He was a great guy.”
“I once had a beer with Wade.”
“He always made me laugh.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Not Wade, it doesn’t make sense. I always got a good feeling when I heard his voice or saw him on TV.”
“He was just a regular guy.”
I know you probably felt the same way.
Here’s what I’ll always remember about Wade Belak:
Wade and Jody Vance (then of Leafs TV) busting in and hijacking the Leafs Lunch radio show in 2007 as part of their “Wade a Minute” TV program.
Belak was game for just about anything that would get a laugh and never took himself seriously. Especially on that “Wade a Minute” show where he did ballroom dancing years before Dancing with the Stars made it cool. Wade always called his moves “the Saskatoon shuffle.” But he didn’t care. People laughed and he was having a good time, that’s all that mattered.
I remember having a beer and a laugh at a downtown restaurant where Wade took great delight in telling me about a former Leaf who was nicknamed “Tugger” for his inability to keep his hands off himself in the dressing room. He thought this was the funniest story in the world. But when you talk to people, they’ll tell you Wade always made every story the best story ever.
But my favourite story and how I’ll always remember the mischievous Belak happened in the summer of 2004.
It was August, I was playing in a roller hockey tournament and guess who insisted that he play goal for our team?
And I mean insisted.
Yup, a bunch of hockey scrubs bring out the Leafs heavyweight champ to play net.
Now he couldn’t actually move on inline skates but Wade didn’t care. Boots it was.
But in the room he cracked everyone up, like, deep belly laughs that make you cry.
The team hears that Belak is coming out to play net so no one wanted to miss the entrance and see the looks on the other teams’ faces when the king of the jungle shows up and heads into our room. Trust me: there were a lot of “WTFs?” in the hallway that morning.
I’m getting dressed as Wade shows up and he plunks down beside me with a full set of Leafs goalie gear. Actually it wasn’t just Leafs goalie gear; more specifically, it was Trevor Kidd’s Leafs goalie gear. Remember the checkered pads, blocker and catcher? Yeah, that set.
I said, “Wade, that looks familiar. Isn’t that Trevor Kidd’s Leafs gear?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I snuck into the room at the ACC last night and swiped it so I could play today. And let’s face it, Trevor’s not going to need this again, did you see him play last season?”
Wade was awful in net for us that tourney but it didn’t matter; he kept everyone laughing.
And I’ll never forget the image of Wade wearing Kidd’s equipment making his way to the net from the dressing room with that big, goofy grin of his beaming from inside his former teammates’ goalie mask.
At the end of the first period of the first game we were getting lit up; I think it was something like 6-1 heading to the second. Everyone was frustrated, angry, disappointed but that vibe ended pretty quick when Wade waddled over to the bench.
“Man, do I suck or what?”
Wednesday night was the only time none of us smiled when we heard his name.