“IF YOU aren’t passionate about something, there is little chance you can be excited about it and enjoy what you do. As a young man, I had a passion for sports, and for hockey in particular, so I chose to follow my passion. From the time I started playing, I dreamed about being an NHL player, right from the very start. I loved the game of hockey and I was good at it. You get confidence when you are good at something, and I was good at hockey. But like anyone who is fortunate enough to make it to... the National Hockey League, the road for me wasn’t a direct one by any means. I was born on January 28, 1943, in Kincardine, Ontario, on the eastern shore of Lake Huron. My dad, Garnet, had gone overseas with the Canadian Army the previous September, and my mother, Evelyn, was visiting his parents at their farm in Amberley. She went into labour at the worst possible time, just as a massive snowstorm hit, blocking all the roads. The nearest hospital was in Kincardine, ten miles away. It was left to my grandfather, William Henderson, to hitch up the horses to a sleigh, venture out onto the frozen surface of Lake Huron, and try to make it there, in freezing-cold temperatures.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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