Fifty-Mission Cap [part I]

"What actually happened to Bill Barilko, do you know?" I asked my cousin Nate. We were at Wayne Gretzky's with two of Nate's friends, his brother-in-law, and the brother-in-law's two sons, who are Nate's nephews, but are no relation to me. I had joined them to pass the time with a few pints until 7:00 when the motocross races would begin at the Skydome.

(Yes, I know, but I refuse to call it that.)

You may have guessed, Gentle Reader, that I was not going to the motocross races with them*, but I'm always happy to lift a glass with out of town visitors, especially when they're one of my favourite cousins. And when one is drinking beer at Wayne Gretzky's one's thoughts naturally turn to hockey**.

"Well," Nate began, patiently, "Bill Barilko disappeared that summer. He was on a fishing trip. They didn't find him until something like ten years later, and the Leafs didn't win another Cup until they did."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, and wished I had a beer cap to flick at his head, but I usually drink draught.

We all know the legend. It was painted on the side of the building. The Tragically Hip wrote a song about it. All good Canadians can recite In Flanders Fields and Fifty-Mission Cap. The opening lines, at least.

Bill Barilko disappeared that summer,
he was on a fishing trip.
The last goal he ever scored
won the Leafs the cup
They didn't win another until 1962,
the year he was discovered.
I stole this from a hockey card,
I keep tucked up under
my fifty mission cap.
I worked it in to look like that.

Nate's friend Jim, who was drinking Keith's, had asked Nate whether he'd spoken to so-and-so recently. Bill Barilko forgotten, Nate replied, "I called him last week and asked, 'How's it going?' and he said to me, 'I got my hands on my belly. I just ate the best cheeseburger of my life!'"

"Didn't he die in a plane crash?" offered Nate's brother-in-law, Erik, referring to Bill Barilko, not Nate and Jim's cheeseburger friend.

"I don't know, did he?" I asked. "That's what I was wondering. I mean, I get that he died; never thought that ten years later they found him hiding in the woods, wolf-boy fashion. But did he drown? Get lost and die of exposure? Fall off a cliff? What?"

"Hey, that's Bill Berg!" exclaimed Nate. Then he jumped up from the table and greeted an approaching tall blond man whom I vaguely recognized. Bill was a journeyman player for the Leafs in the mid-nineties, and he'd gone to BDSS*** with Nate. I'd met him once, after a Leafs game I'd attended with the X, my cousin Markus, and his ex-wife, the Skank Ho Slut who got pregnant with another man's baby then done run off and ripped my favourite cousin's heart open and simultaneously cast the shadow of Appalacian shame and country & western songs upon our home town.

But I digress.

No one in the bar recognized Bill. But then, it's not easy to recognize hockey players when they're out of uniform, their hair dry and combed, and no towel around their neck. And, well, it's not like Bill was Wayne Gretzky.

Or Bill Barilko.

It seems the reason Bill**** was there that afternoon was because he was guest hosting the pre-game "Live From Wayne Gretzky's" show on AM 640. The radio crew was setting up the broadcast booth right beside our table.

Ten minutes later, when Bill was settled into his broadcast chair, headphones on, Nate told us a story about Bobby Berg, Bill's younger brother, who'd been a first round draft pick by Gretzky's L.A. Kings.

To be continued here.
__________________

*Ironically, I was the only one of the group who'd arrived wearing a motorcycle jacket.

**I never saw Wayne Gretzky play, but I was at the Leafs game in 1999 when he was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame. I'd scored Platinum seats at centre ice and when he strolled out on that red carpet I could see the blue of his eyes without looking at the jumbotron. I just love Wayne Gretzky. I cried for days when he got married.

***Beamsville District Secondary School

****Berg, not Barilko