Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The Cup thanks Ketchum for a great tour!

Trophy makes splendid visit, thanks to Howie, Beets, Cub, Hunts and the boys



Jimmy “Beets” Johnson, an assistant equipment manager for the Boston Bruins, will never forget his outstanding stewardship of the Stanley Cup Aug. 21-22 in Sun Valley and Ketchum. Here, Beets holds the Cup atop Baldy’s summit Monday morning. The Johnson family stayed at Sun Valley Lodge and had a grand reunion. Express photo by Willy Cook.

By STANLEY CUP

Express Correspondent

I don't often do this.

After all, I'm nothing but a 36-inch-high, 35-pound silver and nickel alloy trophy. My opinions and feelings don't count much in the grand scheme of things. But I travel 300 days or more a year and see a few things, so here's my take on Ketchum and Sun Valley:

My two days in Idaho at the behest of Jimmy "Beets" Johnson and all the ice hockey fans in the Wood River Valley turned out to be a grand adventure. Although I'm back in Michigan now with Boston Bruins goalie Tim Thomas and his group, I have memories of great hospitality in Sun Valley.

First of all, thanks to Johnson and his family, to Glenn Hunter and John "Cub" Burke of The Suns Foundation who organized my tour so magnificently, and to Dave Stone for letting me ride around breezily in his 1966 Mustang convertible with Bonaire plates, and of course to my good buddy Howie Borrow of Parry Sound, Ontario, Canada. He goes with me wherever I go, and I'm grateful.

I may be wrong because all these picture-taking sessions in all corners of the world become a blur. But I don't think anyone has ever taken over 1,300 photos of me like Mountain Express photographer Willy Cook snapped over the course of 24 hours Sunday and Monday.

What a whirlwind trip!

First of all, let me tell you about Howie Borrow, one of five "Keepers of the Cup" from the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto. He's 48, a Canadian in every respect, hailing from Parry Sound, home of Bruins great Bobby Orr. Howie's job of traveling with the Cup entails long hours and the patience of Job, but it's a dream job for a Canadian. He's been doing it nearly two years and considers our trips together to Europe and Ketchum as highlights.

"Keepers of the Cup" are supposed to wear white gloves, but Howie rarely took them out of the back pocket of his shorts during our Idaho trip. It gets too hot to wear them during the summer. Yet I'm never out his sight. He shines me frequently and follows the rules religiously. Like the Midnight Curfew, loosely observed, that I've had since 1995. I'm not allowed in swimming pools anymore (thanks, Mario Lemieux!). I can't endorse products, but donations for charity are okay.

I'm frequently on airplanes in and out of big cities and big airports, which is another reason our Idaho trip was special.

Howie had a tough start this Boston Bruins championship summer when he made his first 10-day trip with me in July—meeting up with Bruins star Nathan Horton for a party in Horton's hometown in Dunnville, Ontario. They had a big parade planned. All they needed was for me to arrive on time on the flight from Boston to Buffalo.

Only I didn't. In Boston I didn't make it through check-in and security on time and missed the flight. Howie was sweating bullets in Buffalo! He waited anxiously for me while Nathan went up to Dunnville and explained the delay to the townspeople. I made the next flight and Howie got me there, but it was a long day. Folks in Dunnville were understanding, and I got to see Niagara Falls.

For this Western swing, Howie met me Thursday in Neepawa, Manitoba for Shane Hnidy's turn with me. By Saturday afternoon, we were at Johnny "Chief" Bucyk's summer cabin at Kootenay Lake in the lovely Creston Valley just north of the Idaho border in British Columbia. What a nice relaxing time! Bucyk is 76, so everybody admired me during our visit to the Senior Citizens home. And I lounged around the Chief's lake cabin.

Sunday morning, Howie took a sunrise dip in the cool waters of Kootenay Lake, then we piled into Bucyk's car and headed for the Idaho border. There we were supposed to meet former Sun Valley Suns player and coach Tim Jeneson. He flew up from Hailey in his small private plane to meet us for a flight down to Sun Valley.

As Glenn Hunter said later, crazy little things always seem to happen when the Sun Valley Suns hockey players are involved. This was no exception.

The Creston area is pretty rural, so Jeneson mistakenly overshot the runway at Porthill on the American side and landed in Canada. Welcome to Canada, he heard! Whoops, he replied! Bucyk, Howie and me were down the road waiting in Porthill. Jeneson re-boarded and took the short 10-mile flight down to the U.S.—where Homeland Security awaited with stern looks and a possible $5,000 penalty in their pocket.

Well, it wasn't for nothing that Chief Bucyk scored a Bruins team record 545 goals and combined his devastating hip checks with Lady Byng Trophy sportsmanship honors. So Bucyk used his reputation and persuasive powers to get Jeneson out of trouble with the U.S. authorities. Maybe I had something to do it, I don't know.

Howie and Tim tried to shoehorn me into the small plane and had some trouble, so they unscrewed the rear seat and squeezed me in that way. But the flight was magnificent—mountains and lakes and unmatched scenery. Howie got a chance to fly the plane for about 20 minutes, and said it was one of his best experiences.

Refreshed and ready to roll, we got to the Hailey airport early Sunday afternoon and started making our stops in Dave Stone's Mustang. I felt like a Hollywood star! There was a big crowd waiting for us at Mahoney's in Bellevue, then we stopped at Terry Heneghan's furniture store and headed up toward Hailey again.

Thank goodness the police officer who chased us from Bellevue to Hailey was understanding and settled for a photo with me instead of writing a speeding violation! What nice folks in the Wood River Valley!

We visited Sun Valley Suns pioneer Hermie Haavik and his family, and then went across the street to the firehouse where Hermie's son Rune works. Firehouses and police stations are always special to me. So are Zambonis. We met with Ron Fairfax who has the Hailey Ice Zamboni, then we headed north to Sun Valley.

First stop was Sun Valley Lodge, a towering resort, where they set me up on the lawn. It was a lovely summer afternoon, even hot. Maybe that was the reason that the Mustang got stuck on the ice when they tried to drive it out onto the outdoor rink. Good thing there were enough Suns players around to push us safely off.

The private party at Johnny Miller's house out Warm Springs was very special. They put me on a table, sitting atop my National Hockey League table skirt, and I must have met nearly every Sun Valley "Setting Sun," alumni there. If you've ever seen players on the NHL championship team mug it up with me right after they win the title, you have a good idea of how many pictures were taken around me that night.

I don't think I've ever seen a hockey player as organized as Glenn Hunter, the "Keeper of the Clock." He had us on a tight schedule for the rest of Sunday night including a pub crawl on what they called Ketchum's "Street of Dreams." Grumpy's was the first stop. Hunter was in a dither when I was delayed in Miller's garage where Howie and former NHLer Rick Bourbonnais got to talking about their days in Parry Sound.

We went from Grumpy's, to Lefty's and the Pioneer, then up Sun Valley Road to Wise Guy, and The Cellar, then back down to the Roosevelt, Casino, Cornerstone, Sawtooth Club and finally over to Whiskeys. Beets Johnson carried me just about all the time. Everybody gathered with awe when we came into a place. When we left they shouted "Beets, Beets!"

Only once did Howie have to lay down the law. They put me on the top of a wood-covered pool table in Lefty's and people converged on four sides. Howie yelled out, "You can hug the Cup, you can kiss the Cup, you can touch the Cup, but never try to lift it or move it. If you do, we'll have to leave, and you don't want to be the one who does that to the people here."

So there was no trouble at all. I remember Hunter saying about me, "It's meant to be displayed and enjoyed with respect," and I knew I was in good hands in Sun Valley.

We spent Sunday night in Sun Valley Lodge and first thing Monday morning, we rode in SUVs to the top of Baldy where we greeted the sunrise.

What a sight! What marvelous country! Beets, Howie and I rode down to the bottom of the hill in the gondola from Roundhouse, then later Monday morning we drove up to Ketchum Town Plaza for the big public display. Hundreds lined up, so polite, and they were kind enough to donate some money to youth hockey.

I can't tell you what an honor it is to carry around the names of all the players who have played on the Stanley Cup-winning championship teams. They represent all the people who have ever laced on skates or have fired a puck or have nurtured a dream of playing at the highest level. They represent all the small towns, late nights and frigid early mornings, all the grandfathers and hockey moms and dads.

They say I'm a goodwill ambassador. So be it. I guess I'm the stuff dreams are made of, and people just can't stop smiling whenever I'm around.

(Editor's note: During the recent visit, many people commented that the Stanley Cup seems to have a life of its own. So Express sports editor Jeff Cordes imagined what the Cup might say, if it could talk. He spent six hours with the Cup and said it was one of the thrills of his life—right up there with when he watched Bobby Orr collect the puck behind his own net in the old Boston Garden and head up ice—to the collective gasp of anticipation from the home crowd at what might happen when Orr roared into the offensive zone).




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