As told in first-person narrative by D'arcy Wiart (Norfolk Admirals Head Athletic Trainer) (Photo Credit: Sergei Belski -USA TODAY Sports)
I remember seeing Johnny for the first time at physicals in Dubuque. He was 17-years old looking like he was going on 12. He weighed 125-pounds. Everyone on the staff had the same questions. He was skilled but the question was could he survive a 70-game schedule against players that would all be almost one and a half to twice his size?
Especially given his picky eating habits, how were we going to get him to add weight? He was given simple instructions and would head across the street after practice for a Chocolate Frosty from Wendy’s every day. It was figured that in the first season, he would get his feet wet in the USHL and then excel in the year two.
Needless to say, he smashed the curve that was believed for him just like he always did.
He would go on to put up 72 points, 23 points ahead of the next closest rookie, his linemate Zemgus Girgensons.
That question about his ability to take a hit, it never happened. He took one hit all season long. He had the most amazing Hockey IQ that I ever seen to this day in-person. His brain processed what was in-front of him better than anyone else and was uninhibited by negative thoughts because of his joy at playing the game. He was out playing pond hockey with his friends even in the most pressure packed playoff game.
The smile that everyone will remember always visible, even through a cage.
This joy for life was something installed in him by his family. As much as it has been said, I still think it is understated for anyone that has never met them. The closeness of the Gaudreau family was unlike any that I have ever seen. He wasn’t allowed to be cocky, never really wanting to be a superstar in persona.
The only time I ever saw him have a bad day was because he was treated as such. Some of his teammates took a piece of tape and put it on his helmet, like they do in youth hockey, which read “Coach’s Pet”. He skated around for 15 minutes of practice before he saw it in the glass.
He was different though and everyone else knew it.
He was one of the most beloved players in Dubuque even before his NHL stardom because of his unique skills and the way he treated people.
That famous story that everyone talks about him trying to add pucks to his jock-strap when NHL Central Scouting came to weigh the prospects happened right in front of me. There he was the day they came with a roll of tape standing in my training area in the weight room. He stood there so proud of himself and his idea. After a minute, he was composed and ready to go upstairs to step on the scales. He walked away, took a couple steps and two pucks fell out and everyone laughed.
The only time I was ever worried about him getting hurt was lifting the Clark Cup after we won the championship.
The Clark Cup is bolted to a four-foot-tall wooden base and is the heaviest trophy that I have ever lifted by a ways. In his excitement to share the moment with the fans, Johnny threw it up above his head. He misjudged the momentum of the trophy, and it threw him backwards. It was the only thing on the ice that surprised him that season.
He saved it in the end after stumbling backwards, barely avoiding falling on his back. Every time I see the picture, it still makes me chuckle thinking about what had happened a few seconds earlier.
I sat around all weekend watching tributes to Johnny and thinking about his family.
My heart breaks for everyone, especially those two kids because he would have been an unbelievable father because he just had that ability to make people feel better than they were at a given time.
I got to know him before he was “Johnny Hockey”, but he never changed and that is why people loved him.