Bruce Hood obituary

You may know Bruce.

The hockey referee.
He wore #1. 

He tried to keep the peace on the ice in the NHL for 21 years. In his spare time, he invented protective equipment for on-ice officials. He was the first NHL referee to officiate at the World Championships in Europe. He was instrumental in forming the Officials Association to provide better salaries and better working conditions for his co-workers. 

I hadn't met him yet on an evening while attending a game at Maple Leaf Gardens in 1986 when the League recognized him for officiating 1,000 games. He was the first to do so. 

Hockey-Bruce was just one Bruce.

He was also an author, travel agency owner, businessman, and politician and most importantly, husband, dad, and granddad.

I met him at the University of Guelph in 1988. 
He was there to sign copies of his newly published book, Calling The Shots.
I wasn't there for a signature. I was attempting to recruit him to volunteer as a celebrity host at the annual Sports Celebrities Festival for Special Olympics Canada.

I waited at the back of the room to approach him - after all the books had been signed. I was a little nervous to meet him for the first time and wasn't sure how he'd react to my invitation.

I should have spent a little time on my 

Bruce Hood homework.

He had already been an active volunteer with Special Olympics 
ever since the organization was created by the Kennedy family -- and attended their first event at Soldier Field in Chicago in 1968.

It's often difficult to remember when you make a new friend.
I know precisely when Bruce and I became pals ... the first time we met and shook hands.

The Sports Celebrities Festival @ Toronto's Harbour Castle was actually 2 events in one. A breakfast for 2,000 in the morning and a black-tie dinner for another 1,000 at night. Everyone at breakfast seemed to know Bruce. For those who didn't, he made sure they did before they left the building.

At the evening's black-tie dinner there was no mistaking him. Under his tux jacket was always a black and white striped referee vest -- and he was never without his whistle. He'd be quick to blow it and give you 2-minutes if you didn't bid high enough on one of the night's auctions items.

His interaction with Special Olympians at the event was always the thing that made his day. I invited him to attend once and he showed up for 19 times more after that. Quite a time commitment, but he said ...

"It's my pleasure, it's for fellow athletes".

In the past ten years, Bruce and I played a little shinny together -- at the Igloo in Ellenton, Florida.

Our games are organized by age group ... 50+, 60+ and 70+. Half the players are Canadians, half Americans. But, because all the players are of Bruce's vintage and hockey-nuts, everyone already knew him before he showed up for the first time.

Bruce with Godfather of FLA hockey
Norm Foster

All Igloo players enjoyed meeting and playing with The Ref.

It always surprised me how he was able to remember everyone's name.

He controlled the dressing room before and after every game. His banter, his barbs, his evaluation of his opponent's ability or lack-of were always in-play. You'd feel left-out if his post-game tirade didn't include you. After each game, we'd retire to the local pub. Bruce had a dozen stories for every NHL player name that was mentioned. Nobody wanted to leave the restaurant before him, just in case, they'd miss something.

I asked him about his favorite hockey moment. He didn't take long to conjure up a great one. He said, "Stepping into the Maple Leaf Logo circle at Maple Leaf Gardens at 8pm on a Saturday night with Hockey Night in Canada on TV for the opening face-off and hearing Dave Keon snap his gum".

Several months ago, Bruce and I visited a long-time friend in the hospital,
Bob Bendara. Bob owned Centennial Sports near Centennial Park -- a great friend to all the 1980's - '90's NHL officials. Bob's condition had rendered him speechless but he knew everything that was going on around him. We spent a few hours with him. I talked some hockey nonsense and told some lies which he seemed to enjoy and Bruce held his hand.

Following that visit, every hello or good-bye with Bruce and me was a hug -- sometimes a bear hug.                I'm going to miss him. That grin. That naughty sense of humour. He looked for fun in everything -- if he couldn't find it, he'd manufacture some.

One last thing about Hockey-Bruce.  

Along with his son Kevin and friends, we presented Bruce for consideration for the Hockey Hall of Fame. As part of our presentation, I had twelve Honoured Hall Members including Bobby Hull and Keon and Rocket and Beliveau and Pierre Pilote sign a petition that recognized Bruce's skill as an on-ice official and his very positive contribution to the game. The document strongly recommended the HHOF selection committee to consider him for induction. The year was 1994. Our nomination was rejected.

The Original Six super-stars were all very pleased to be asked to support someone that they thought should be with them in the Hall.

Bruce told me that knowing those players, hockey's royalty, thought so highly of him was almost as good as being selected to the Hall.

Bruce Hood's personality and energy and kind soul touched a lot of people. Always, in a good way. Nurturing, thoughtful, respectful and always, always with a little fun.

Yesterday afternoon at his hospice, I had an hour to spend with him. At times like this, it's often difficult to think of stuff to talk about. With Bruce, subject matter popped into my head without delay. I went on about hockey, gave him an update on Norm Foster Hockey and his Florida hockey buddies, and reminded him of our recent road trip to Detroit to visit with Ted Lindsay and the great Original Six stories they swapped (any hockey fan would have paid to be in on that conversation) ...  for me, it was quite a privilege. 

I'm very proud to have known Bruce Hood and prouder still to know what he thought of me as his friend.