Sam Etcheverry will be dearly missed

It’s not that I think athletes are all that special because they’re athletes, rather, it’s the characters that come with the team, the alumni, and the personalities around the league that make this job special.

Two people who have long stood out as particularly intriguing to me – Ben Cahoon and Marc Trestman – two of the most genuine “stars” I have ever met. Of course I have a professional respect for Ben and “Coach” as a part of the club, but what I appreciate most about them is their real commitment to people, friends and fans alike.

Simply put, when you meet one of them, you feel like you’re speaking with an equal who is genuinely interested in you rather than some big shot athlete or coach who is kind enough to donate some free time to his fans.

A third person I could put on that list was Sam Etcheverry.

While I didn’t have occasion to get to know Sam as well as I’ve gotten to know Ben and Marc, I did have the honour of crossing paths with the legendary “Rifle” three or four times.

The first was at our Grey Cup launch party back in 2006, and it was an encounter I’ll never forget. In the middle of one of the biggest sports announcements of the last decade in Montreal, there was none other than Sam Etcheverry standing by a table in the back-left of the crowd signing an autograph here and chatting with a fan there.

Never one to be star-struck, I sidled up next to him and quietly introduced myself and explained that I worked in the team’s PR department.

Much like Ben had done when I met him at my first training camp in 2004, instead of simply shaking my hand and brushing me off, Sam took a genuine interest in me and for the five or six minutes that we stood there chatting, his full concentration was on this young man who he had never met before as he asked me what exactly I did with the club and how I liked my job, etc.

Of course, I also took the opportunity to ramble a bit about how he was a legend to my father, who watched him dominate the CFL in the 1950s, and told him how I grew up hearing tales of him, “Prince” Hal Patterson, and in later years Johnny Rodgers and Peter Dalla Riva.

The next big Sam Etcheverry moment for me came just about this time last year.

While I had had the pleasure of chatting with him a couple of times in between our 2006 introduction and last September, his kindness and generosity really struck me on this particular day. Being as my father was a lifelong fan of his, I had sent a red Number 92 jersey over to Sam’s place in the Eastern Townships with a note asking him if he’d sign it for my dad.

Having already been battling cancer for years – the same cancer which took his life last Saturday morning, Sam happened to be in town just a few days later for treatment at a Montreal hospital. I was shocked when I received a call from Sam and his wife saying they would be outside my office in about 20 minutes and to bring a Sharpie.

I went out and there was Sam on the corner of University and Ste-Catherine waiting for me in his car just to sign a jersey for my dad.

Talk about going out of your way for a fan.

And from everything I know and have heard about him, that was the man who was Sam “The Rifle” Etcheverry – a legend in his time and a hero to look up to for decades more.

When Sam was on top of his game in the 50s, he was always known to be a man of the people. When he left Montreal and the CFL in the 60s, he was sorely missed, and when he returned to coach the Alouettes to a Grey Cup victory in 1970, all seemed correct again.

After three seasons at the helm of the Als, he settled nicely into a role of team alumnus and a representative of Montreal and Canadian football throughout the best and worst years of the CFL.

He was a key figure in keeping the Alouettes Alumni Association alive in the late 80s and early 90s when there wasn’t even a team in this city, and upon the return of the franchise in 1996, one of the first things the Alouettes did was retire his Number 92 jersey which now hangs in our office with his autograph signed to the 9 on the back just under his name.

Often times as I walk by it and the handful of other jerseys we’ve retired, I’ll take a second to appreciate that I wouldn’t be sitting in my chair today if not for the exploits of this great quarterback and even greater person.

I didn’t have the chance to get to know Sam Etcheverry as well as I would have liked to, but he certainly struck a chord with me in the few times we did indeed have a chance to speak.

For that, Sam, I thank you – my only regret is not having gotten to know you better. Rest in peace, Mr. Etcheverry, you will be missed.