Montreal captain Brian Gionta sideswiped Leafs’ goalie James Reimer, shook his head, sent his mask skittering. That was October 22, and Reimer hasn’t played since. A concussion? The Leafs haven’t said. Whiplash is a word they’ve volunteered for his non-lower body injury; concussion-like symptoms is something else they’ve disclosed. So a week ago, Toronto Star reporter Dave Feschuk phoned up James’ mum in Morweena, Manitoba, to see whether she had anything to add to the team’s diagnosis. “He looks clear,” Marlene Reimer said. “His eyes look fine.” But — well, she didn’t know. There were headaches. He seemed better and then he didn’t. As a mother, she worried. That’s all, pretty much — oh, James and his wife have a new puppy, a Havanese, called Optimus.
The Leafs didn’t like it. Coach Ron Wilson was ready to — not the dog, the interview. The dog was fine. The interview was …. Well. Where to start? What you don’t do, according to Wilson, is a call up a man’s mother. That’s a line you just do not cross, because to do so is sneaky and underhanded and also (this from TV pundits like Nick Kypreos and Mike Keenan) not-journalism. Don Cherry said it was weaselly — unless that was Mike Milbury. Why so, exactly? Well, obviously as mentioned, because of the line: you don’t cross it.
A quick review of other notable motherly interventions from hockey’s archives:
• Boston centre Milt Schmidt’s mother wouldn’t let him play football when he was a boy because it was too rough;
• Andy Bathgate was going to quit hockey in 1953 when the New York Rangers sent him down to play in minor-league Vancouver, but his mother talked him out of it;
• when referee Red Storey did walk away in 1959 after NHL president Clarence Campbell criticized his handling of a playoff game, Mrs. B.L. Storey weighed in from her home in Barrie, Ontario: “He’s a mighty fine boy and I don’t care what Campbell or anyone says;”
• in 1957, Mrs. Alice Richard came clean on her eldest, little Maurice: as a boy he was a fierce competitor. “He even played hockey in the streets,” she said, “and always came back with torn pants.”