Rest in peace Bruce McDonald. Wait, scratch that...don't rest in peace! Get up!
walk, run or better yet skate!
Heck, I'm sure there is a pretty good ice rink up in heaven! While you're at it, take their Zamboni for a spin!
Bruce may have lost his battle to cancer this week but I think he won
the war. Confined to a wheel chair or
scooter all his life because of cerebral palsy, my guess is he is now enjoying
his freedom from the physical limitations that were placed upon him here on
earth.
I only knew Bruce for
12 years, but his passing early Wednesday has made this one of the most
difficult days of my nearly 50 years of existence. Only the passing of my dad nearly three
years ago could rival the sorrow I feel today knowing my good friend is gone. But I can't feel sad and sorrowful for too
long because Bruce would not accept that.
If there is a book of adages out there, you will find Bruce's picture on
the page beside that old saying "When life gives you lemons, make
lemonade!"
You see, In reality, he wasn't confined to his chair. It was like an appendage he had that most
others didn't. It may have put some
limits on him but it certainly didn't stop him.
He lived life to the fullest and there were no obstacles, just
detours.
For almost three decades, since he was a 12 year old , Bruce
has been associated with the Seattle Thunderbirds. Actually, he goes back to the Breaker days when one day he
was summoned into the team's dressing room
by the coach, Marc Boileau. When
he came out, he came out with a job...statistician. He was given a pen, a clipboard and a team
pass and off to work he went. In the
late '90s, then T-bird broadcaster Chris Collins gave him a new job and Bruce
joined the broadcast team as color analyst;
a position he held until his passing.
The last 11 of those years I was privileged to have him work alongside
me at home games and many road games as well.
Over that time he went from being a colleague to being a friend....to
being a family member. I'm not relishing
the task of telling my 8-year old daughter that Bruce has passed.
We spent many car rides together on I-5 down to Portland or
up to Everett and after the games, on the way back, we celebrated victories or
lamented defeats. When we rode together
we had our superstitions that never worked but we kept up the rituals
anyway. And when he climbed down out of
his chair at either the Rose Garden or the Memorial Coliseum and crawled and
pulled himself up a flight of stairs to get to our broadcast location I grew to
admire and respect his will and determination as well as his passion for the
team, the game and for life.
Over the years he's watched hundreds of young WHL players
grow into adulthood. He's seen many go
on to pro careers . But whether they became
an NHLer or went back home to another profession, they were all important to
him. Many of them spent afternoons at
the McDonald household, near the practice rink in Kirkland, playing video games
or sharing a meal. Many have come back
and became more than just former players, they became good friends.
When Bruce told me earlier this spring that he had been
diagnosed with leukemia, I was stunned.
When he told me he was going to win the battle and be ready for opening
night in the fall, I believed him. When he put his mind to accomplishing
something he usually came out on top.
So, his death has stunned me and all those who loved him.
Bruce, you were my brother and I will miss you.
