He looked more like our fathersnNot a goalie, player, athlete periodnSmoke, half-ash,nstuck in that permanent smirk.nnTugging jersey around the beer gutnI'm strictly a whiskey mannwas one of the sticks he taped upnand gave to a nation of pudgy boysnnFavorites from Plympton's list ofnobjects thrown by Rangers fans:nSoup cans, persimmon, eggsna folding chair and a dead rabbitnnThe nervous breakdown of 68 and 69nafter Pan Crap flights from LAnthe expansionna shrink told me to change occupationsnI had to forget itnnHe swore he was never afraid of the pucknWe believe himnIf anyone asks,nthe inscription should readn'My face was my mask.'