Monday, August 26, 2002
Meet Stan: Party animal, fundraiser
By JON SARACENO
USA TODAY
LOS ANGELES If only Stanley could talk ... Imagine the stories he could dish up from his sterling silver mouth. Like the morning he took a shower with Detroit Red Wings star Steve Yzerman. (I'm guessing a loofah might have been involved.)
Or the time he ended up snorkeling at the bottom of Mario Lemieux's pool during a wild Pittsburgh Penquins' bash. Those Canadians sure know how to party, eh?
At this very moment, despite the late hour at Luc Robitaille's suburban home, Stanley is being pulled forward by a beautiful blonde woman who is softly putting her lips on his big, sweet, shiny face. Considering that he stands only three feet tall and weighs 34 pounds, he is quite the charmer. No one turns down the chance to pose with him or just get closer.
Stan, you're the man.
Yes, the old man pretty much has seen and done it all as world hockey ambassador. Visited churches, hospitals, cemeteries, even the White House. Been utilized as everything from a minnow bucket to a baptismal font. A few years back, Stan got around a bit more, like when he was carried in and out of strip joints and casinos.
That's taboo these days. Politically incorrect, you know, though Stan is known to sleep with some NHL stars. He manages to keep quite active, particularly given his age of 109.
This summer, he toured Sweden, Russia and, last week, attended a wedding in the Czech Republic. By Friday, Stanley found himself on the set of Star Trek, proudly propped up in the captain's chair. Saturday afternoon, it was off to Disneyland, then a helicopter ride to party at a beach house in Malibu. Sunday, he took a day trip to Dodger Stadium, Universal Studios and the famous Grauman's Chinese Theatre.
But on this cool evening, old Stan is being honored in Robitaille's backyard, where the soaking-wet player is standing on a table and playing air guitar to the Guns N' Roses' song, Welcome to the Jungle.
Where's the damn beer? he shouts.
The 36-year-old veteran winger is eager to refill the temporarily empty super-sized chalice. And he does.
Nice-guy Robitaille, a member of the Red Wings' championship team last season, waited 16 years and more than 1,200 National Hockey League games for this night when he can tie one on with family and friends. Each player from the championship team can spend one day with the Stanley Cup doing whatever he wants within reason. Unlike all other championship hardware, the Cup truly has become the people's trophy because of its accessibility to people all over the globe. It has become one of the finest sharing traditions in all of sports. (There are two Cups: one travels, the other remains on display at the Hockey Hall of Fame).
Earlier this month, Igor Larionov and two Red Wings teammates used the Cup's influence to inspire young Russian children to play hockey and to raise funds for impoverished, retired players. The Cup also raises funds for medical research and disadvantaged youth.
This night belongs to Stan the party animal.
Just as quickly as he is alternately filled with beer, Jaegermeister and champagne, he's chugged empty by imbibing revelers. His mere presence seems to make people lose their inhibitions, which might explain the time Stanley got all bent out of shape (literally) after a long night in an Edmonton topless club and had to be repaired at an automotive shop.
We didn't have guards then; that doesn't happen anymore, says Walt Neubrand, who works part-time security detail for the Hockey Hall of Fame. But, yeah, I still get all sorts of different requests. I've had people shake my hand, place money in it and say, "Can you do me a favor?' I'm from Canada, and I'd be disgraced if something happened to the Cup.
Neubrand, a 33-year-old elementary school teacher from Toronto, warily eyes the Cup as it's hoisted into the midnight air and passed through a rowdy crowd that includes several Hollywood types, including Hillary Swank, Chad Lowe and John Cusack.
If only Stanley could talk.
Because I can't ask what it's like to have Rachel Hunter nuzzle up to him, I decide to do the next best thing when Stan's bowl is filled with cold suds.
I close my eyes, sip and savor the moment.
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