J.R.: My Life as the Most Outspoken, Fearless, and Hard-Hitting Man in Hockey
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Thanks to Mike Modano for the competition. Those years of using you as the yardstick by which to measure myself provided plenty of stories for this book. And I offer my appreciation to everyone else who gave me one of the great anecdotes or kernels of information that help fill in these pages.
It has been great to work with publishing companies that truly understand hockey. HarperCollins Canada has an all-star team that includes my affable editor, Jim Gifford, and the others who helped pull everything together: Iris Tupholme, Noelle Zitzer, Brad Wilson, Alan Jones, Kelly Hope and Jason Pratt, as well as our proofreader, Patricia MacDonald, and our superb copy editor, Lloyd Davis. That man knows the sport. In the U.S., Triumph Books is another publisher with plenty of experience in hockey books. My thanks go to the Triumph staff, including Mitch Rogatz, Tom Bast, Adam Motin and others.
I also want to thank my fans, many of whom have been with me since I showed up in Chicago as a skinny teenager who had no idea what life in the NHL was all about. You should know that I’ve always appreciated and cherished your support. Thanks for shelling out your hard-earned money to read about my life in hockey.
Also, I would like to thank my current agent, Mark Lepselter of Maxx Sports Entertainment, who knew I wanted to write a book before I did. I wasn’t sure, but he said it was a great idea. And as usual, he was right. It was a fantastic idea. I can’t wait to do another.
Finally, I need to thank my family, especially my children, Brandi and Brett, and my wife, Tracy, who is my strongest rock, my friend and my life partner. I love you guys very much. Thanks for allowing me to lead the most tremendous life I could ever imagine.
Photo Gallery 1
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This is me at 18 months old, living in Connecticut and already gearing up to launch my athletic career.
This is me with my younger brother, Trevor (below), and my dog, Sparky.
You can it see from this homework assignment: I always knew I wanted to play in the NHL.
When I was 10 and living in Northern Virginia, it seemed just as likely that I would end up a top soccer player as a top hockey player. I was as dominant on the soccer field as I was on the ice. I’m in the centre row, second from the right.
Here’s my Thayer Academy high school team the season before I was drafted. I was a junior at the time. Can you pick out Tony Amonte and me?
American players hone their skills the same way that Canadian players do: by shooting in their driveways. I’m 16 in this photo.
Tracy and I are 16 years old here. Are you kidding me with that pizza face and 1980s fashion?
Here are Tony Amonte (left) and I horsing around in 1987, when we were in high school. Do we look like two guys who would combine for 929 NHL goals?
This is me with some of my best high school buddies. That’s Matt Mallgrave in the back, then (left to right) Dan Greene, Matt Collins and Joe Caswell. Greene played on a line with Tony Amonte and me at Thayer Academy. Collins and Caswell also played at Thayer. Mallgrave played at St. Paul.
Shortly after the Blackhawks selected me as the eighth pick in the 1988 NHL draft, I had my photo taken with team executives. Of the seven players chosen before me, only Mike Modano, picked first overall by Minnesota, scored more goals than I did.
At the 1988 NHL draft, the Boston area was well represented, with me going eighth to Chicago, Tony Amonte (centre) chosen 68th by the New York Rangers and Ted Crowley (right) going 69th to the Toronto Maple Leafs.
Can you believe how young Mike Keenan (left) looked at the 1988 NHL draft? He was my first coach, so it’s funny that we sometimes appear together now as hockey analysts on NBC telecasts. I was scared of Keenan when I first played for him, but today we’re friends.
Neil Abbott (left), shown here with me at an NHL awards dinner, was my agent for my entire playing career. But he seemed more like a family member than an agent because he always took care of me.
Look what a handsome kid I was when the Blackhawks drafted me in the first round at the Montreal Forum on June 11, 1988. Within 11 months, St. Louis Blues forward Glen Featherstone would knock out a few of my teeth with a high stick.
Although I was upset and angry when Chicago coach Mike Keenan assigned me to Hull in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League, it turned out to be a great experience on and off the ice. The Hull roster included Stéphane Matteau, Karl Dykhuis, Martin Gélinas, Cam Russell and Joe Suk, among others. Alain Vigneault coached.
This larger-than-life Michigan Avenue storefront display in Chicago seemed unreal to me when I was in the early days of my NHL career. It was pretty great, especially for an NHL player who didn’t weigh more than 160 pounds soaking wet.
In 1991, just before my 21st birthday, I was in the midst of my first 40-goal season for the Chicago Blackhawks. This was my third year with the NHL, and I was already starting to think I might be a Blackhawk my entire career. Chicago fans loved the way I played, and after that season, general manager Bob Pulford gave me a five-year deal worth about $5 million overall.
I was very close to Tracy’s parents, Richard and Dorothy Vazza, shown here at our wedding on June 20, 1992. Tracy’s mom died while I was playing with Philadelphia, and her dad died suddenly in 2007. The news of his death ran me over. I was devastated because he was one of my sounding boards. Still miss him.
The Roenick family gets up close and personal with a trio of dolphins on our trip to Hawaii.
No matter where we go on vacation, I somehow end up on a horse. Here I am riding slowly in Santorini, Greece.
This is me with my daughter, Brandi, and my son, Brett. If you can’t figure out where we are by the statue in the background, then you don’t know American history.
Here I am after the 1989 playoff game that became my “coming out party.” First, Steve Larmer gave me a skate blade to the nose. Then, in the second period, Glen Featherstone smashed in my teeth with his stick. My face looked like a train wreck, but I came back to score and we won our series that night. That game changed how people saw me and gave me a reputation for toughness.
When I was traded from the Blackhawks to the Phoenix Coyotes in 1996, I authorized a Chicago Staples store to hang this banner to thank the city’s fans for all their support. We tried to do something nice, but the Blackhawks made the store manager take it down immediately.
Photo Gallery 2
Tony Amonte and I have been friends since we were teenagers, and Tracy and Laurie Amonte, Tony’s wife (far left), have been friends since they were toddlers. Here, we’re hanging out at the 1998 Olympic Games in Nagano, Japan.
Tony Amonte and I played on the same team at the Olympic Games in Nagano. It’s really wild to think that Tony and I were prep school linemates who ended up playing together on two NHL teams and then the U.S. Olympic team.
At the 1998 Olympics, I hit Wayne Gretzky with a check for one of the few times in my career. I have great respect for the way Wayne Gretzky played the game and carried himself as the league’s ambassador. But when I played for Gretzky in 2006–07, we did not get along. We were not on the same page — not even in the same book.
Brett Hull and I chummed it up at the 1998 Olympics. And no, my son, Brett, is not named after Brett Hull.
That’s Doug Weight (centre) with Tony Amonte and me at the Nagano Olympics. To this day, I don’t know why USA didn’t play better that year.
Matt Mallgrave and I have been friends for 30 years. We played hockey together as kids, and he ended up playing for Harvard, as well as the minor leagues. Now he is on Wall Street, making the kind of money I was making in the NHL.
Whenever I threw a party in Arizona, I hired a band called Boogie Nights because they always played music I liked. I knew every word to the songs the band played, so I would go on stage and accompany their lead singer. You aren’t surprised, are you?
My former Phoenix teammate Claude Lemieux and I pose at my Arizona going-away party after I signed with Philadelphia. Hanging with the Boogie Nights band, Pepe and I are showing our age. What a great s
end-off that party was.
Never during my career was I ever at a loss for words. Never did I meet a microphone I didn’t like. At the 2002 Olympics, my son, Brett, interviews me on the streets of Salt Lake City for NBC. Throughout my career, I always believed that after I retired I would find a way to stay in front of the camera, and I was correct.
If I wanted to win a hockey game and howl at the moon afterward, Keith Tkachuk (right), posing here with me at the 2002 Olympics, is the man I would want leading me. He’s the yardstick by which all NHL captains should be judged.
The most vicious hit I took during my career was Derian Hatcher’s elbow to my jaw in 1999. Here is the X-ray showing my jaw broken in three places. Eight of my teeth were also broken. Five years later, my jaw was shattered again.
My three seasons in Philadelphia cost me my pretty face. This is how I looked after I healed from having my jaw shattered by a Boris Mironov slapshot in 2004. In addition to the broken jaw, I also ended up with a concussion and post-concussion syndrome. I spent most of that summer with my shades drawn. By the way, I’ve had many teammates over the years who would swear that Mironov’s shot had no impact on my face because I was ugly before and ugly after.
This is me enjoying a quality meal of filet mignon, broccoli and sweet potatoes after Boris Mironov broke my jaw with a booming slap shot in 2004. My wife, Tracy, would make my favourite meals and then just toss them in a blender.
I spent much of the 2003–04 season bleeding because of high sticks and Boris Mironov’s slap shot to my jaw. In one game against Buffalo, I was cut three times, but even with blood spilling from my mouth, no penalty was called. I was so enraged I threw a water bottle at the ref and vented my frustration to the media, famously saying, “Wake up, NHL, wake up!”
Another Massachusetts player, Marty McInnis (right) of the New York Islanders, accompanied Tony Amonte and me on our trip to the Bahamas.
Tracy and I appear here with our close friends Billy and Vicky Jaffe (centre), plus Paul and Lisa Rooney, at the Grey Cliff Restaurant in the Bahamas.
Tony Amonte hands me a beer and some Kentucky Fried Chicken as I ski close to shore in the Bahamas. The rest of the story: coming in too fast on my next pass, I slid onto the beach like I was sliding into home plate. The result: I sheared a layer of skin off my backside and leg. The open wound had to be wrapped every day at the infirmary. And for the rest of my vacation, every time I went in the water, my rump felt like I was dipping it in a vat of acid.
I always enjoyed fishing at Sun Valley. We spent six consecutive summers there.
Taking Brett for a spin on Casper, Brandi’s first pony. Not going to lie — I’m scared of horses.
Spending time in Sun Valley with Brett at our friends’ river-grove farm. It’s an amazing place.
Here I am with my prize catch on a vacation in Sun Valley. I spent hours out there fly fishing.
This is me riding a horse in Costa Rica and thinking, “I hate riding a horse.” I just don’t get how my wife and my daughter, Brandi, get so much enjoyment out of this.
Brandi was 13 when she won her first national dressage championship, riding Pretty Lady. She was the youngest champion in U.S. dressage history.
Photo Gallery 3
My children, Brett and Brandi, make me the filling of a kiss sandwich. Love this photo.
Tracy snapped this beautiful photo of me with our children, and then she had a painting made of it. The portrait hangs by our bed.
I played with a great bunch of guys at the Olympics in Salt Lake City. Here I am with (left to right) Doug Weight, Brian Leetch, Chris Chelios, Mike Richter, Mike York and Brian Rolston.
Posing at the 2004 All-Star Game in Minnesota with my friend Bill Deacon (centre) and Hall of Famer Mark Messier. In the early days, Messier scared me to death. He had a mean, intimidating look that could make you tremble.
The U.S. Air Force gave me the ride of my life. I was allowed to be the backseater for an experienced pilot of an F-16 fighter jet. That aircraft pulls nine g’s, and the pilot did what he could to make me puke. But I kept my cookies. I felt so sick afterward, however, that I cancelled my dinner plans.
One of my closest friends is John Whitehead (far right) from Chicago. We met in Las Vegas when he came up to me and asked if anyone had ever told me I looked like Jeremy Roenick. I told him no one ever had. When he discovered who I was, he called me a derogatory name. I’ve loved him ever since. Here he is with his wife, Julie (second from the right), Tracy and me.
Long-time friends Darcy Walsh (centre) and Bill Deacon pose with me. Early in my career, I met Darcy when he was a young kid seeking an autograph in Toronto. Over the years, Bill has been my buddy and my business associate, as well as my caddy when I played in the celebrity golf tournament at Lake Tahoe.
When I moved to Arizona, Bob and Ruth Lavinia were my neighbours. Bob became a father figure to me, and we are still close. Wonderful people.
The night before the Blackhawks held a heritage night in my honour, Tracy had this sick cake made for a surprise party she threw for me. The party, held at The Underground, lasted until the wee hours of the morning. The ceremony was fantastic—with video clips and signs, it felt like a retirement celebration. Fans received Roenick memorabilia. The Blackhawks did everything but raise my number to the rafters.
When Los Angeles Kings general manager Dave Taylor acquired me from Philadelphia before the 2005–06 season, he told me he wanted me for my hockey ability and not my marketing value. But I knew better. This is an example of the photos that ran with the many stories published about my arrival in Southern California.
Tracy, Brett and I celebrate my 500th NHL goal, inside the San Jose Sharks’ dressing room. The milestone came November 11, 2007, during a game against the Phoenix Coyotes—19 years after my first NHL goal. Doug Wilson was my first roommate on the Blackhawks, and he was my general manager in San Jose when I scored the goal.
Although I wouldn’t consider myself a fighter, I did my share of scrapping. Here, I’m going after Phoenix forward Daniel Carcillo, who was trying to help one of his teammates during a game in 2007–08. That’s Phoenix defenceman Keith Yandle on the ice. I don’t much care for staged fights, but I don’t mind when players defend themselves when the action boils over.
Derian Hatcher (left) and I played together for the Philadelphia Flyers alumni in the Winter Classic. After looking at this photo, people have jokingly asked me whether I was trying to figure out how to hit my own teammate.
I’m spontaneous to say the least. After I “accidentally” threw my Nike 3-wood into a water hazard at the Atlantic Country Club, I completely stripped down on the 13th fairway, dove into the water and retrieved my club. That’s me, buck naked, after successfully completing my club-saving mission.
What you see here is the pride of Thayer Academy hockey. That’s me posing with Tony Amonte and our coach Arthur Valicenti (centre) at my U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame induction ceremony in Buffalo. In our last season playing for Coach Valicenti, Tony and I combined for 64 goals and 88 assists. I played 24 games and Amonte played 28.
My family was with me on February 11, 2012, when the Coyotes made me the seventh player inducted into their Ring of Honor. My close friend Craig Conley and I pose with his fiancée, Jessica Bright.
Brett and I ham it up for a picture during my tenure in San Jose.
Rick Tocchet and I in the Flyers alumni dressing room before taking the ice for an old-timers’ game at the 2012 Winter Classic. Even with our playing days finished, Rick and I remain good friends.
Here, the Roenick family gathers together for my induction into the Coyotes’ ring of honour.
The summer this book was being prepared for publication, Tracy and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary.
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Copyright © 2012 by Jeremy Roenick.
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Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 978-1-60078-654-9
eISBN 978-1-62368-000-8
Published simultaneously in Canada by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
Table of Contents
Introduction
1. Please Come to Boston
2. Weighing My Odds
3. Knowing My Creator
4. Finding My Bluster in the Windy City
5. Showing Me the Door
6. Selling Ice in the Desert
7. Guts
8. Payback Was a Bitch