Growing Up Hockey: The Son of an NHL Player

I’m 5’8, 178 pounds, played hockey my whole life, and love the game almost more than my family, but I never made the National Hockey League nor even came close.

My father, Bobby Lalonde, played for 11 years in the NHL, and I don’t remember a single moment of it. It’s one of the biggest regrets I have in life that I never got to see him play and remember it.

Growing up in Canada, the majority of people I know live and breathe hockey, especially the NHL. I have followed the NHL since I can remember, pretended to be Wayne Gretzky in the driveway scoring the big goal. I never pretended to be my father because I couldn’t wrap my head around that concept because I couldn’t remember him playing.

My father gave me every opportunity to learn from him on how to play the game and play it well, but unfortunately, I lacked the skill that he had. I would tell anyone that would listen that my dad played in the NHL and that I was going to do the same.

When I was a little kid, I was the best player out of my friends and could say so. Unfortunately, as I got a little older, I found out that this was not the case. However people expected me to be a top player because of who my dad is. I would end of being picked first whenever we got together to play road hockey and shinny, but then people would realize that I wasn’t this first overall pick that they thought they got and more of a first-round bust because I played more like a later-round pick.

The look of disappointment from people that I wasn’t the best out there or what they thought I should be is not the greatest feeling and can get tiresome. It even can make you resent the game you love so much. On those occasions that I did have a good game when I was young, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t good enough. Somehow I should have got that one more goal or assist.

As I got older, it got even worse because people started to look at me as a failure when compared to my father. I couldn’t even use the excuse that I wasn’t tall enough because my dad was only 5’5, so that doesn’t work.

So I changed the way I played the game, became a defense-first type of player and would hit everything that moved on the ice – got pretty good at it, too. At one point, I was playing rep hockey and high school hockey and loving every minute of it.

My father was very encouraging and drove me to every game, and it didn’t matter what time or how early that game or practice was.

I grew up with a father that, if I did, say, score a hat trick–and that was the rare occasion–he would talk to me about my defensive side of the puck or how many face-offs I won that game instead.  At the time I wished he’d have commented on my scoring. I can’t blame him now. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that playing a well-rounded game is as essential to winning as getting on the scoresheet and that successful teams always have room for a player whose defense is his best attribute.

In my teenage years, I wouldn’t tell anyone that my dad played in the NHL if they didn’t already know because I didn’t want to look like I was bragging. I didn’t want them to develop a preconceived idea of who I was before really getting to knowing me. And to be honest, I was almost ashamed of it, denying it if people did ask me, because I wasn’t the next in line to the NHL just like my dad.

I even lost interest in hockey for a couple of years after high school because I wasn’t good enough for any high-level hockey. I went to college and found I wasn’t good enough even to play on that team.  I used to follow many players growing up like Brett Hull and Gretzky as a young kid, but I didn’t really have a favorite team. Instead I always cheered for the teams my dad used to play for which were Vancouver, Atlanta (which moved to Calgary), and Boston. 

The Boston Bruins are the team I’ve always had a soft spot for and cheered for the most and think it was because my grandfather would always wear his Boston Bruins hat and be so proud that my father played for an original six team.

Before he passed away, he would always tell me stories, with such pride in his voice, about my dad playing for the Bruins. My grandfather loved the fact that my dad got to play for such a historic franchise in the NHL, as well as having played side such great players as Rick Middleton, Wayne Cashman, Brad Park, and Ray Bourque to name a few.

My dad played with great players on his other teams, but after I finished college, it was the Bruins that got me back into the NHL and hockey for that matter.

As a kid, I could name every player and discuss any aspect of the game, but I had lost that connection. The Bruins revived my interest to the point I watched every game on TV and started playing men’s league hockey as well.

I consider myself a die-hard Bruins fan and sometimes think of my grandfather when I see the spoked B, and that is something I will cherish forever. Despite the fact my family now lives in Greater Toronto, my wife loves the Bruins and shares my passion.  I have been fortunate the past couple of years to take advantage of the fact that my dad played in the NHL and as a result have been to several games in Boston including the two Winter Classics that the Bruins hosted.  I no longer hide the fact that my dad played in the NHL. These days I’m very proud of it, to be honest. I understand that some people don’t want to hear about it or might even be envious, but they really shouldn’t be. After all he is also my father, not just an ex-NHL player, and I’m proud of him for that just as much.

Someone recently suggested that I think the fact my dad played in the NHL makes me somehow superior. I disagree with that and I don’t share it to brag. If I seem overly enthusiastic, it’s because I’ve come to realize it’s not a burden but a blessing. Few people can love a game so much and have a father that played it professionally. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, I’m just so proud to say that my dad played in the NHL.