Post by 4th Line Productions on Mar 6, 2009 9:42:53 GMT -5
Andre Roy's Father Hates Watching Son's Fights...
CALGARY- Gilles Roy despises the very existence of fighting in the National Hockey League.
His distaste for the pugilistic part of the game persists even though his son, Andre, is one of the longest-serving enforcers on the 30-team circuit.
"I hate that,'' Gilles Roy said via telephone from his home in Boca Raton, Fla. ``Nobody in their right mind who loves their children wants to see them in this type of predicament. You don't want them to get hurt.
"Every time they fight, I just cringe. My stomach gets very tense. I'm very nervous. I don't like to see it.''
The nagging knot in the stomach is likely a permanent condition for Gilles.
After all, his son has 101 bouts - and counting - on his NHL fight card.
Gilles may dislike the violence, but he gushes pride when it comes to the career path blazed by his youngest son. "Even at his age, Andre is still there, '' Gilles said. ``Most of the enforcers we've seen and heard about - they don't last all these years.''
Indeed. At 34, Andre Roy is one of the longest-serving policemen on the NHL watch with nine years of his resume.
The six-foot-four, 225-pounder expects to live out the rest of his days with a permanent reminder of his time as an NHL enforcer.
"My knuckles hurt,'' he said. "My elbow hasn't been quite right for a couple years, but it's mostly my hands that bother me inside the joints.
"I have a cut on the ring finger on my left hand. It never heals. You fight again, and you cut it again. But that doesn't bother me. It's the arthritis from grabbing guys that's the trouble. It's not like I'm not able to hold a fork or anything. But it's tough of the hands.''
Andre figures he inherited his toughness from his dad, who still works construction at age 65.
Over a career spanning 45 years, Gilles moved up the ladder to project manager. He recently oversaw the construction of a hotel in Miami's South Beach.
"Dad was more of a carpenter when he was younger,'' Andre said. "Now he's more the superintendent. He hires the plumbers, the electricians, and he looks over the job to see if everything is done right and what the cost is of everything is. Like a hockey GM. He's got a budget, I guess. And he has to stick to it.''
Unlike a hockey general manager, Gilles still gets his hands mucked up from time to time and takes care of the dirty work himself.
"My dad is funny,'' Andre said. ``Nobody thinks he's my dad. He's like five- foot-nine. My dad is really short. He's a short guy, but he has never really drank or smoked or anything like that. He still looks young. He still feels good, from what he tells me.
"He always said he's going to work until his body gives on him. So that's why he's still working.''
Andre also plans to keep working for as long as he can. And, although his dad might not like it, he revels in his role as a bodyguard for star players such as Jarome Iginla and Michael Cammalleri.
"I think it's more about your mind and how your body feels,'' Andre said. ``Look at Donald Brashear. He's 37 years old. He's doing a great job. He's one of the toughest in the league. I think it all depends how you feel.''
Throughout his childhood, Andre caused all kinds of damage around the Roy household.
"Andre would eat hockey,'' Gilles said. ``He would play in the street with tennis balls. All summer, he would be in the back hitting hockey pucks into a net. Non-stop.
"How many windows did he break? How many garage doors did he bust? It's so funny now thinking about it all.''
By the time he reached junior, Andre realized his chances to make it in the National Hockey League rested in his hands.
Or, to be more precise, his fists.
"I was tall and skinny,'' he said. ``Some guy from my area told me they would pick on me because I was tall. He said, `You can't back down, because it looks bad.' ''
In his first pre-season game, some kid picked a fight with Roy. Bad decision.
"He was a no name,'' Roy said. "Never made it. But I was just starting. I fought and fought virtually every game. I guess I had that reputation.
"I wanted to do a bit of everything, so the scouts would see I could play and fight. The more tools you have the better chance you have of getting drafted.''
The Boston Bruins took notice and selected Roy in the sixth round (151st overall) of the 1994 NHL entry draft.
``I was trying to copy Cam Neely's style,'' Andre said. ``Or Wendel Clark's. ''
Andre obviously never reached those levels. A spot is not waiting for him in the Hockey Hall of Fame.
But he has carved out a career as one of the NHL's top bodyguards.
And for that, his father is proud - in spite of his objections to fighting.
"It's actually quite funny,'' he said, ``that my sweet little son made it into the league like this.''
Calgary Herald
vhall@theherald.canwest.com
CALGARY- Gilles Roy despises the very existence of fighting in the National Hockey League.
His distaste for the pugilistic part of the game persists even though his son, Andre, is one of the longest-serving enforcers on the 30-team circuit.
"I hate that,'' Gilles Roy said via telephone from his home in Boca Raton, Fla. ``Nobody in their right mind who loves their children wants to see them in this type of predicament. You don't want them to get hurt.
"Every time they fight, I just cringe. My stomach gets very tense. I'm very nervous. I don't like to see it.''
The nagging knot in the stomach is likely a permanent condition for Gilles.
After all, his son has 101 bouts - and counting - on his NHL fight card.
Gilles may dislike the violence, but he gushes pride when it comes to the career path blazed by his youngest son. "Even at his age, Andre is still there, '' Gilles said. ``Most of the enforcers we've seen and heard about - they don't last all these years.''
Indeed. At 34, Andre Roy is one of the longest-serving policemen on the NHL watch with nine years of his resume.
The six-foot-four, 225-pounder expects to live out the rest of his days with a permanent reminder of his time as an NHL enforcer.
"My knuckles hurt,'' he said. "My elbow hasn't been quite right for a couple years, but it's mostly my hands that bother me inside the joints.
"I have a cut on the ring finger on my left hand. It never heals. You fight again, and you cut it again. But that doesn't bother me. It's the arthritis from grabbing guys that's the trouble. It's not like I'm not able to hold a fork or anything. But it's tough of the hands.''
Andre figures he inherited his toughness from his dad, who still works construction at age 65.
Over a career spanning 45 years, Gilles moved up the ladder to project manager. He recently oversaw the construction of a hotel in Miami's South Beach.
"Dad was more of a carpenter when he was younger,'' Andre said. "Now he's more the superintendent. He hires the plumbers, the electricians, and he looks over the job to see if everything is done right and what the cost is of everything is. Like a hockey GM. He's got a budget, I guess. And he has to stick to it.''
Unlike a hockey general manager, Gilles still gets his hands mucked up from time to time and takes care of the dirty work himself.
"My dad is funny,'' Andre said. ``Nobody thinks he's my dad. He's like five- foot-nine. My dad is really short. He's a short guy, but he has never really drank or smoked or anything like that. He still looks young. He still feels good, from what he tells me.
"He always said he's going to work until his body gives on him. So that's why he's still working.''
Andre also plans to keep working for as long as he can. And, although his dad might not like it, he revels in his role as a bodyguard for star players such as Jarome Iginla and Michael Cammalleri.
"I think it's more about your mind and how your body feels,'' Andre said. ``Look at Donald Brashear. He's 37 years old. He's doing a great job. He's one of the toughest in the league. I think it all depends how you feel.''
Throughout his childhood, Andre caused all kinds of damage around the Roy household.
"Andre would eat hockey,'' Gilles said. ``He would play in the street with tennis balls. All summer, he would be in the back hitting hockey pucks into a net. Non-stop.
"How many windows did he break? How many garage doors did he bust? It's so funny now thinking about it all.''
By the time he reached junior, Andre realized his chances to make it in the National Hockey League rested in his hands.
Or, to be more precise, his fists.
"I was tall and skinny,'' he said. ``Some guy from my area told me they would pick on me because I was tall. He said, `You can't back down, because it looks bad.' ''
In his first pre-season game, some kid picked a fight with Roy. Bad decision.
"He was a no name,'' Roy said. "Never made it. But I was just starting. I fought and fought virtually every game. I guess I had that reputation.
"I wanted to do a bit of everything, so the scouts would see I could play and fight. The more tools you have the better chance you have of getting drafted.''
The Boston Bruins took notice and selected Roy in the sixth round (151st overall) of the 1994 NHL entry draft.
``I was trying to copy Cam Neely's style,'' Andre said. ``Or Wendel Clark's. ''
Andre obviously never reached those levels. A spot is not waiting for him in the Hockey Hall of Fame.
But he has carved out a career as one of the NHL's top bodyguards.
And for that, his father is proud - in spite of his objections to fighting.
"It's actually quite funny,'' he said, ``that my sweet little son made it into the league like this.''
Calgary Herald
vhall@theherald.canwest.com