Dave Flebotte, a Boston Bruins supporter and award-winning TV writer, died on July 8 at the age of 65. The Sopranos, Will & Grace, Boardwalk Empire, and The Bernie Mac Show are just a few of the well-known television programs that the Boston native has written and produced during his professional writing career.
But for this writer, Flebotte was a close friend and a passionate hockey fan. Flebotte considered himself lucky to have witnessed the Bruins win three Stanley Cups, and he will always be a devoted fan of the team.
Being able to write for The Hockey News was something Flebotte was very proud of.
In this exclusive piece from Puck Funnies: Hockey Humor, Hilarity & Hi-Jinx, a special edition book published by The Hockey News in 2009, Flebotte’s ability to write amusing articles was evident. He was overjoyed to contribute to THN, and THN was equally overjoyed to have him write for them. In addition, he put his money where his mouth was by becoming a lifelong subscriber. His absence will be felt.
Our deepest sympathies are sent to Flebotte’s wife, Sandra, and his kids, Zach and Emma, on behalf of The Hockey News.
#RIP, 65-year-old Dave Flebotte. His wife tells @THR that the beloved TV writer (Ellen, Sherri, Desperate Housewives, Boardwalk Empire, The PJs, and Tulsa King) passed away in Montana following a protracted fight with cystic fibrosis. 28 years ago, I received a double lung transplant.
Dinner Is Bruin-ed
By Dave Flebotte
I love the Boston Bruins.
I’ve been a big fan since May 10, 1970. That day was Mother’s Day, and since my mom is Sicilian, my family gave her a huge Italian dinner to prepare and then let her clean up after herself. A jar of Ponds Cold Cream the size of her head was presented to me in fifth grade as a token of appreciation for another wonderful year of cooking, cleaning, and silent desperation.
The most memorable aspect of the day, aside from the stuffed artichokes, was the Bruins’ first Stanley Cup victory in 29 years.
In order to minimize dinner talk, we kept a small black-and-white television in the kitchen, which I watched. It was being watched by an uncle by himself. They had just begun overtime. It ended with an Orr-to-Sanderson and a subsequent back-to-Orr. All that remained was for my Uncle Charlie to yell the F-word at the top of his lungs and for the late Ray Lussier to catch Orr in midair. (The F-word was used in my household to convey joy, contempt, and occasionally love.)
I was immediately captivated. In 1972, I purchased my first edition of The Hockey News. The cover featured Dale Tallon, who was supposed to be visiting Boston. I was unaware of the publication’s existence. Even though there were three of them, I was confident they would be taken off the shelf as soon as someone found out about them, like I did, so I borrowed fifty cents from my brother and hurried back to the convenience shop, where the clerk held it for me. I brought it home, walked upstairs to my room, and gulped it down.
As a Bruins fan, it was an exciting moment. In my first three years on board, we won two cups. From Cheevers, O’Reilly, Esposito, and Orr to Bourque, Neely, Oates, and Lemelin, and now to Savard, Chara, Lucic, and Thomas. The Boston Bruins have been my best friend, second only to alcohol.
So when my pal, Adam Proteau, asked me if I’d be interested in writing an article for The Hockey News, it wasn’t a matter of if, but what part of Bruins history I’d write about.
When I hit 1,000 words in my first draft, I wrote, “The Canadiens suck,” but it was rejected. Adam thought it was a bit too one-dimensional, even though it did hint to one of the best rivalries in professional sports. I then began to reflect on some of my favorite players and the moments that truly stood out during my 39 years of team support.
I came to the realization that the scrubs were the main thing that sprung to mind, not only the stars. Some of my best recollections were with the Greg Hawgoods, Bruce Shoebottoms, and Bobby Schmautzes.
So I decided on this: “Five Bruins I Love, But Who You Might Not Give A Rat’s Ass About.” You never asked for it, but here it is:
5. Bennett, Bill. Who? Bill Bennett only appeared in seven Boston Bruins games in 1979. He finished with four assists and one goal. Lost.
I love him, but why is he a Bruin? because after “Espo” was traded, Bill wore number seven. I’m glad he wasn’t good enough to stay with the club and keep it, and I appreciate that he had the balls to wear it. Ray Bourque might not have received the number if he had managed to get into a fourth line and stayed.
We would have missed one of the best moments in Bruins history when the team retired Esposito’s number: Ray removing the No. 7 jersey and giving it to Phil while sporting his new number, 77, underneath.
How unimpressive would it have been to see the now-familiar double-seven appear when Bill Bennett took off his jersey? Before Bennett could deliver the jersey to Ken Hodge, an enraged Phil would have likely had him pull it off his back.
4. Stock, P.J. Nothing cheers me up more than seeing P.J. Stock and Stephen Peat of the Washington Capitals square off on YouTube when I’m feeling low or a little depressed—perhaps my script was just rejected, or my son asked me for an A-Rod T-shirt.
Since I’ve only ever won one fight out of fifteen (yes, Jeffrey Morgan, I’m referring to you, b—-), I find it therapeutic to watch five-foot-nine’ P.J. Stock toss haymakers to giants’ skulls without using a foot stool. Half energizer bunny, half rock-em-sock-em robot, he would gesture to the Garden faithful at the end of each battle, saying, “This ass-kicking’s for you.”
3. Normand Leveille, third. A brain hemorrhage in 1983, only 75 games into his Boston Bruin tenure, ended No. 19’s career.
He arrived shortly after Boston’s Lunch Pail Gang, led by Don Cherry, had taken over in the middle to late seventies. They were known as scrappy, hard-nosed players. No true superstars, just regular people who outworked everyone else, skated their wing, and hit you in the face.
When Leveille joined the team in 1981, he was a novelty in Boston. We had only ever seen that on a Canadiens jersey. Every single one of our “Flying Frenchman!” With someone hard on his heels, he would speed around corners of the ancient Garden and then abruptly halt, flinging his shoulder back into their chest and dumping them onto their asses.
In addition, he was a powerful Yvan Cournoyer with a tremendous feel for the net. I apologize to Ian Young, the premier goaltending prospect for the Bruins, and his eye injury that ended his career before his first professional game, but his loss was undoubtedly the biggest tragedy to ever affect the Bruins. Very sweet, but far too short a time in a B’s sweater.
2. Cashman, Wayne. From the late 1960s until their departure in 1975, “Captain Cash” patrolled the left wing alongside Phil Esposito and Ken Hodge. He is one of the greatest Bruins of all time, even though his sweater doesn’t hang from the Garden rafters and he has never been mentioned as a potential Hall of Famer.
With his fearlessness, heart, and ability to put the puck in the net, Cashman was the epitome of what it meant to be a Big Bad Bruin in the 1970s. He wasn’t one of those dimestore Flyers who would rack up more than 300 minutes but fall short of Kate Smith’s standards. The corners belonged to him. He was similar to O’Reilly (too apparent a pick), but Cash was slick whereas Terry skated with all the grace of a drunk driver removing a row of mailboxes.
My favorite Cashman moment is when he goes out of his way on his first shift to fly across the ice and nail Dave Schultz during a nationally televised afternoon game versus the Flyers at the Spectrum, then just glares at him. The message has been sent.
1. Ron Grahame. During the 1977–78 season, Grahame was a goalie for the Bruins. The Bruins utilized three goalies on a full-time basis that year. (The other two were Cheevers and Gilles Gilbert.)
Grahame was signed as a free agent defector from the World Hockey Association’s Houston Aeros during the previous off-season. He had a good first and only season with the Bruins, but it doesn’t mean he’s at the top of my list.
He deserved it since Harry Sinden sent him to the Los Angeles Kings that summer to draft Ray Bourque, even though interim general manager George Maguire was accepting the Baz Bastien Trophy as the worst general manager of all time.
The rest is history for the Bruins. Before Ray ultimately brought the Cup home to Boston, he played for the Bruins for 20-1/2 seasons. In a Colorado Avalanche jersey, though.
After that one, though, it’s difficult to remain angry with Harry.
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