To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Kavita Chhibber - February 02, 2006
A son remembers
Some time ago, I had written a tribute to my dad. It brought some touching responses by posters, some of whom shared their own memories of their fathers. I was particularly touched by Scott Masterton's post on his dad and had asked him to elaborate on it. His tribute appeared in this month's issue of my online magazine.
I'm very happy to be sharing it here. Thanks Scott.
"On January 15th, 1993 I lay in my basement, flat on my back staring at a hip to ankle purple cast on my left leg. The cast was new and unsigned; the leg beneath had not yet begun to atrophy. The television droned in the background as I contemplated the end of my professional Kickboxing career. At 29 years of age I’d held the K.I.C.K. United States Super-middleweight Kickboxing title in conjunction with the number one world ranking in that same division; next in line for the championship of the world. My opponent the previous evening had been British champion Sean Cochrane. I was on my way to victory against the hard-hitting Englishman when I slipped in a puddle of water dislocating and fracturing my left knee. Seven of 10 rounds had passed and I was ahead on every judge’s card. Although it was eventually considered a victory, any victory in which the loser walks away and the victor is wheeled out on a gurney is hollow at best and embarrassing at worst.
The phone rang, jolting me from my reverie. I picked it up on the second ring, assuming it was a friend checking on my well being. After the previous night’s debacle there had been half a dozen calls already and for me yet another opportunity to pretend all was well as I faced a possible career ending injury. It turned out that it was not a well-wishing friend but a sports reporter from Toronto. I assumed that he was calling about the fight. Next to Hockey, Kickboxing had become a favorite sport of many Canadians thanks mostly to Jean-Yves Thériault the undefeated French-Canadian middleweight Kick boxer. To my surprise, the reporter knew nothing about the fight. Instead, he was calling to get my reaction on the significance of a date I had completely forgotten- the 25th anniversary of my fathers’ death.
My father, Bill Masterton was a professional hockey player. As a Minnesota North Star he sustained a mortal injury Saturday January 13th, 1969 after striking his head on the ice at the Met Center in Bloomington Minnesota while playing against the Oakland Seals. He died 27 hours later, January 15th, 1969 due to massive brain injury. He was 29 years old… I was three.
Playing hockey had been a life long passion for my father. Raised in Winnipeg Manitoba, he’d played first for the St. Boniface Canadiens in the Manitoba Junior Hockey League in 1956-57. Rather than turning pro, dad instead chose to take advantage of a scholarship to Denver University, where he earned a Bachelor of Science Degree in business while simultaneously becoming the most valuable player in the 1961 NCAA tournament and holding a scoring record that stood until 1995, twenty-four years after his death.
After graduation my dad returned to Winnipeg and married my mother. They’d been high school sweethearts and continued their relationship throughout his college years. They took turns making the long drive between Winnipeg and Denver for the three years that it took my father to get his degree. After the wedding, dad signed up with the Montreal organization and was assigned to the Hull-Ottawa farm club (1961-62) in the Eastern Professional Hockey League. Within a year, he was moved to Cleveland where he became the American League’s number six scorer. During that same period of time mom and dad were attempting to bring a family into the world and much to my parents’ disappointment the doctors told her that pregnancy would be impossible for her. This combined with the fact that the Montreal Canadiens were chock full of talented centers (dad’s position) and the NHL’s five team’s failure to draft him helped dad make the decision that it was time to give up hockey, settle down and attempt to adopt children. He returned to Denver and got his masters degree and was hired quickly by Honeywell in Minneapolis Minnesota.
In 1965 my parents adopted me at 6 month of age and 2 years later my sister (not my natural sister) at the same age.
In 1967, shortly after they brought my little sister home, dad got a call from Wren Blair, the coach of a new expansion team called the Minnesota North Stars. Blair told him about the proposed team and wanted him to try out. I remember my mother telling me before she died that although dad’s life was going very well post-hockey, he did not want to give up the opportunity to play in the NHL. It had been a life long dream and even though he was only 28, he would be too “old” to play pro hockey if he didn’t take this opportunity. This would most likely be his last chance. He made the cut even after suffering a separated shoulder in training camp and had the honor of being the player that scored the first goal for the new expansion team.
A few months later he was gone forever from our lives.
The memories that I have of him are mostly snapshot-like: Story-time on his lap, eating graham crackers and honey with him before he went for hockey practice, learning to skate on our patio (a patio that he’d flooded with the garden hose in the bitter cold of a Minnesota winter for just that purpose). And yet, most of my memories of him are not my memories at all. They are memories of people he came into contact with-old hockey players who told me about “Billy” disappearing from the adult parties and how he could always be found down in the room that had been relegated to the kids. While the adults enjoyed their cocktails, jokes and fondue, dad would be spinning them around and playing silly games with them, telling them stories and listening to theirs. Old friends of his told me about his sportsmanship and support of the younger players like Bill Goldsworthy (Goldy to hockey fans) who’d been drafted into the NHL right out of high school. Bill had been a “wild child” until my dad got him back on track. Every time I saw Goldy (my hockey hero when I was growing up), Goldy would always remind me of what a great guy my dad was. He said my dad helped to shape him not just as a hockey player, but more importantly as a man. .
Several years ago my mother called me to tell me that she had met up with Bobby-Lynn. Bobby, at eight years old, was a girl that lived next door to us with her little sister Kelly. The neighbor girls had been a regular fixture at our house until I was five years old, (a couple years after dad died). One weekend Bobby and Kelly disappeared from the house next door. No good-byes, no explanations…they just left. Bobby was 40 years old when my mother reconnected with her and mom was in her early sixties. Mom was no longer the young 29-year-old widow that had been the last time Bobby saw her. Nevertheless, Bobby recognized my mother and told her that she needed to talk to her and explain where they had gone and why they’d never said good-bye. They met for coffee and Bobby-Lynn revealed that her alcoholic father had beaten their mother weekly. They lived in constant fear of his mercurial temper, mood swings and uncontrolled violence. One night, their mother woke the girls up while he lay in a drunken stupor in bed and snuck out of the house with a small bag of clothes for each of them. They never came back and never contacted him again.
“I wanted you to know,” Bobby told my mother, “that your husband was so important to us and how sad we were when he died. He always seemed be able to cheer us up,” she said and continued, “He took us to Dairy Queen for ice cream when you and Scottie went as a family…he never hesitated to include us in anything that your family did. And I remember thinking that this was the way that a dad was supposed to be.”
She went on to tell my mom that she’d had a pretty crappy male role model when she was growing up. But whenever she felt negative towards men, even her own husband, she would remember Bill, how kind and gentle he was with Kelly and her. “I just wanted to thank you for allowing us a glimpse into your life.”
The two women hugged and cried together, promising to stay in touch.
When my mom told me the story it reminded me how the things that are really important in life have nothing to do with winning or losing, how many goals you score or Kickboxing matches you win. The things that affect the lives of others deeply are the little things, the things that you may not even notice: an ice cream cone on a hot day, a gentle word to someone in pain, or spending a little time with a friend listening to them. Not giving advice…just listening.
In the 38 years since his death I have never had an old friend of my dad talk about his athletic prowess…only about how their lives were better for knowing him and that they would like for their sons to grow up to be the man that he was or their daughters to marry someone like dad. In 1968 the NHL created the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy. The Trophy is not awarded for the most goals scored, or given to the player with the most assists or greatest defensive ability. It goes to the player who best exemplifies what my father stood for: Sportsmanship and humanity. The Trophy is presented to this day.
Although my father and I both became professional athletes and both of our athletic careers ended on the same date at the same age 25 years apart, the real legacy that my father gave me was not one of sports…it was one of love. I learned about the simple acts of caring: and just by teaching me that my father taught me how to be a man.
Digg this entry 
Add to Del.icio.us 
Share on Facebook 
Subscribe
Posted by Kavita Chhibber at February 2, 2006 06:35 AM
Comments
Dear Scott,
Thanks for sharing your father's story and the love he shared with others. Beautiful post to honor "Legacy of love"
Venky
Dear Scott,
Thank you for sharing the gift of letting us in to 'see' your Father. I am always so deeply moved how one's life - can touch so many others, we can't even realize how far those ripples of care, kindness, a smile, a helping hand - may extend.
Love and Blessings,
~ Kate
Kavita:
Thanks for sharing this story.....One question always comes to my mind .....as there r very few man like Bill ....do u think with the kind of arrangement we have in our society (marriage).....every woman will be able to find a Bill to spend her life with....
Kavita : I am bliss to read you ; greetings from Italy ; bye-bye ...
Dear Scott,
What a wonderful man your father was. And, from the way you write it's obvious that you are also.
Love and blessings,
Donatella
Hi Seema,
I don't know if there are very few men like Bill. I think our perspective is colored by our personal experiences, and in my life I have met more men like Bill than not..I think when I see women have bad relationships, its mainly because they allow themselves to be used and manipulated. For me the bottom line is- unless you learn to respect yourself no one else will.
Many women stay in relationships for several reasons, especially in the south asian community-they are financially dependent on their husbands they are afraid of what people may say, or they are very comfortable and don't want to leave that comfort zone. That is why it is so important for women to be well educated and financially independent.
I also have to say I have seen some very spiteful and manipulative women who have hurt some very good men..in fact strangely I seem to be meeting more such women than men. Even amongst my friends, I have seen many brother sister duo-where the brothers are homebodies, sincere, helpful, the sisters are out clubbing, self centred and users...so its all an individual thing..
Every relationship is a compromise but compromises should be happy compromises. At the end of the day you have to ask yourself this question-if I had 5 years to live do I want to live like this? if I had 50 years to live would I like to live like this...if the answer is No then you need to make whatever change there is , no matter how scary it is, and I have noticed that when you do gather the courage to make the change, its not as scary as you thought it might be. and yes there are a lot of Bills out there..especially among the younger men who are born and brought up here-they have seen their mothers juggle home and careers and seem to respect their women more and share in chores as well..
thank you ciro..
lots of love to all of you
Dear Scott; the colours of your picture, paint a wonderful scene; one of triumphs of the human Spirit!! I was thinking of this blog on a long walk today, out in the icy damp of a wierd winter of the likes!
I knew you were pretty big in your sport; won awards, but; I never realized you were tops!
I can't imagine the disappointments in life you've had to bear... such as the loss of a Dad, at such a tender age; and with Bill being famous, must have made his non-presence in your life, an endearment...
I am grateful for this glimpse into your picture Scott; now I see what made Scott "grow" into the man he is... why he chose the wife he chose; why he was blessed with the beautiful children he helped make...
IT all fits like pieces of stained glass in a window pane now... you experienced what you have, to BE who you are now... for who is in your life now... what a wonderful life!!
I click my glass of lemon-honey tea, in your direction, and bow at your accomplishments Scott!!
North
Hi Scott,
I want to thank you for writing and Kavita for posting this wonderful, touching story of your father and the impact he had on those who knew him.
Kristin told several of us on our drive back from Iowa after seeing Ammachi a few years ago how your father died. So I knew something about his tragic death and so it was with great interest that I read your beautifully written account of your father's life and the importance of sharing with others. A blessing.
It seems Kristin is not the only writer in the family, be it prose or poems.
Mahalo, Bob
Hi Kavita, and Scott, beautiful story. I especially liked the reason for the trophy, Humanity and Sportsmanship. Thank you both for sharing. God bless.
Hi All!
Kavita - thanks so much for allowing me this opportunity to put the story together. So rarely does one ever get the change to actually put some facts etc. together and review family like this. I much appreciate it.
North,
There were hard things and not-so-hard things about my life, just like all of us. My mother was alone for 22 years...she didn't remarry (and rarely dated) until my sister and I moved out. She met a really wonderful man who cared for her through 10 years of cancer treatment...I am convinved that his love gave her those ten years. We lost mom 2 years ago in March, but she was at home, and he was there at her side. She died just moments after I kissed her good bye, and Glenn and my little sister were each holding her hand. Really, I have been blessed with two wonderful father figures in my life, one I knew as a child and the other I met after I was a father myself.
I know that had my father lived I would be a completely different person. I would have likely followed a different path and ended up with a different family. I guess it all works out like it's supposed to work out. You would be interested in reading a piece that Kristin put together concerning Joshua's (our youngest) and my father. Without going into detail, we are convinced that we are "raising" my dad (Really).
Thanks everyone for all of the nice comments and thanks again Kavita for allowing me to write.
Peace,
Scott.
Dear Scott,
It is a joy to know that you are the man you are, and to have 2 wonderful Dads, is to be treasured. Also, to read the tenderness of your Mom, and it makes me feel tears, joy-ful ones, of the love she felt during her bout with cancer, and making the transition from life to death to new life.
Thanks for sharing. Blessings to you, Kristin and your children!
~ Kate
thank you, Kavita - for posting this story and picture of Scott's dad,
Dear Scott; your Mom and me sound much alike! I been alone with raising my son; fifteen years almost, this spring! I rarely date; just haven't met a man to make my heart thrump!! lol Scott; I have heard/read much reference to that possibility!! I've read that family's pass and reborn into each others life as incarnates.... I lost a close friend in grade seven to cancer; later, her mom gave birth to a daughter(a surprise pregnancy) and named her Nancy; thier deceased daughter; she was the spitting image of Nancy's baby pics; it was creepy in a way; but, Iv'e been fascinated with reincarnation my whole life; I almost died a few times too; and my bod, now remnants from sports and car accident injuries, etc.... let's just say, "I believe!" I've also had a fantastic OBE!!
much love Scott; and yes, everything IS, as it should become... as we evolve....
I also knew a little boy named Nick; whom talked of a previous life; and how he died, and how sad his family was after ;he said he could only be reborn, if he let them go after he died.... he told me and my exhusband(still legally married) too many mind-shattering facts, to be misconstrued as imagination!! this was the late 70's and TV was only in colour a few years in households!! It wasn't an addiction with kids back then... we believed him 100%! By the time he was turning six, he was forgetting.... he died young... being hit by a car..... in his past life he said... but, he stressed he is always reborn to the same family... it was the most amazing conversations my ex and I ever had with a child.... we mentioned it to his Mom; whom confirmed Nick's stories as "fact" and that's how he saw it..... we'd get goosebumps listening to this little boy describe good memories; and his death.... brrrrrrr lol
I believe it, Scott......
North
Just make sure the neighbors dont join u when u LOL.
Scott: That is such an amazing tribute to your father! Thank you for sharing that with us. It is obvious that that your father would be very, very proud of the man you have become.
Kavita: Thanks for posting this!
Love, Sheba
MY FATHER TOLD ME TO TREAT KAVITA CHHIBBER WITH RESPECT AND LOVE.
SCOT :- I SALUTE YOU AND YOUR DAD
Dear Scott,
Very touching and wonderful....
tx for sharing your blessings.....
Scott,
No better way to start my daily Intent browse than this story. A wonderful tribute from a wonderful son.
God bless you and yours.
Thanks every one. It has been so wonderful discovering great stories and wonderful writers, and human beings on the blog. I hope all of you will continue to share your life's experiences, tell your stories of inspiration to all of us...even the stories that taught you about life...as anupam said failure teaches you more than success does.
And I will always be happy to push you that extra mile to sit down and write if you need it.
lots of love to all of you.
Kavita, you have a way, which inspires the importance of a persons story; to be told by the experiencer... you have the knack to make a person comfortable, talking about pain, joy, sorrow and their dreams... you are a natural!!
Scott, I feel quite inspired this morning, and you seem to have a large part in that! You've overcome grief and physical pain from your injury; and yet, you continue to inspire and aspire to participate in athletics and sports.
You continue to perservere and inspire us with your achievements and continue, via teaching us; that the human spirit, is ever-fast!
AS I do same.... I enjoy the view, with you, and All,
North
Extremely, extremely well written, Scott. I am keeping this as a link.
A big shout for your father and his exemplary spirit.
Fist up.
Namaste Scott,
What an honour to be able to read into your life this way. Your father, no doubt, lives on in many of your experiences...he would be proud. This story touches me deep in lots of ways as I was also very close to my Dad (died Jan.2005.)
Thank you Scott for sharing...
" I learned about the simple acts of caring: and just by teaching me that my father taught me how to be a man. "
Even though this may sound like a broken record, "the things most near and dear to us can never be bought" and you resonate that quality in your story so well Scott.
God Bless you and your family,
Cinda
Thank you Kavita for choosing to share this,
Cinda
Hi Cinda,
GLad the story made you think of you father. Writing the piece reminded me again of how little real effort it takes to make an impact on others. I think the greatest gift that we can give others is to be available and to be genuinely ourselves.
Peace,
Scott.
Great Post
Just to say the above post wasn't posted by me. Guess will have to start looking at IP addresses again and get my good squad working!
I agree scott's written a great piece but I hope that whoever you are you will appreciate it in your own name..
Great Post!
With my own name !
Was trying to be a bit naughty!
Also wanted to check if it allows me to!
Any way great post indeed !
Was feeling like crying !
Got a glimpse on the fact that true success is not what we all think !
Love u all
Thanks Tina for owning up..with so many aliases, I'm losing count of what is real and what is unreal..its all surreal! It does allow you to post but its also very easy to check where it came from. I hope though that since Mallika has shown such faith in all the posters by keeping this a totally open forum, everyone will respect that trust. Thanks for being a sport.
I have always felt that there are some amazing men out there who are great fathers, sons, husbands and boy friends..and they need to be acknowledged as well..I would love to hear more stories like this.
Andaleeb, I know you have one
Dear Scott; could you please EM me? I have a local book Author; whom is quite excited to meet you!!
Richard is a neighbour of my Mom and they are good friends..so much so; she buys giant size box's of doggy treats for Richards dog; they visit daily..
Today, I showed Mom and Richard a copy of the book cover I'm completing for Harb. I don't have a printer; so Mieke sent me a hard copy, and I received it just late yesterday!! I love it, and so does Richard.
Anyway, Richard was quite impressed with my work(I think that encouragement made me grow two inchs taller!!) and showed me some of his cover designs at his place... wow, he's good!!
Anyway; he's just released a big hard-cover book; on the "Legends of Hockey" and I asked him if he'd heard of a "Masterton" and Richard immediately knew your father; stats, the whole nine yards!! The cover of this Legends book is amazing; a hand-drawn replica of old hockey equipment...drawn by a fifteen year old local boy.
I happened to mention I've known you and Kristen for years, when he knew who your Dad was so clearly;
so anyway; he'd love to meet with you, so if you are interested in a possible book-venture of you and your Dad... (hug)
EM me -> spiritnorth(at)hotmail(dot)com
and I will EM you back with Richards contact info. He has so many books in the making; this guy is amazing!!
His main passion is historical accounts OF/BY/ Canadians Legends, Heroes and Founders...
He does hockey, mining, he's done wonderful books on the northern communities up here... did you know; that Timmins was once a haven for cannibals?
his photographs are breathtaking!! and he's a meticulous researcher... admired by many for his well-researched documentation in his books.
But, he doesn't just recount history already told; he prefers to seek out survivors, kin... sons of heroes such as you Scott.. He want the world to know the inside histology of Canadian History...and the generations past, present and future...
He may use my skills for a cover one day he said...
Hey!! maybe yours?(wink)
much love to you and Kristin and the fam..EM me; I'm so excited I can't stand it!! lol
North
Hi Scott,
Your account of u'r dad has thrown light on how a person can make a difference to the lives of those around him/her.It has sure inspired me.
Priya
Post a comment
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)
Recent Posts
- 04/08/08: Outlook - Perspective - Meinung - Pensiero!
- 04/08/08: Is the Universe (including life) a Purposeless Accident? Science of Purpose: Part 1
- 04/08/08: Given that, at base, we are One being, should we always bear in mind that even the most conflicting of views will have common root connections?
- 03/08/08: Stampede in India
- 03/08/08: Are We an Accident?
- 03/08/08: Weekly Intent - Kevin Boon
- 01/08/08: New Life in a New World
- 01/08/08: Breathed By Brahman
- 01/08/08: Dear Kaveri...
- 31/07/08: Imagining God in Color
Recent Comments
-
Priyadarshni Gopalakrishnan commented on To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Hi Scott,
Your account of u'r dad has th -
North commented on To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Dear Scott; could you please EM me? I have a l
-
kavita chhibber commented on To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Thanks Tina for owning up..with so many aliases
-
Tina commented on To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Great Post!
With my own name !
Was -
kavita chhibber commented on To be a Man: The lessons my Father Taught Me
Just to say the above post wasn't posted by me.
Dear Scott, powerful lives! Amazing journey you have had Scott...
great interview, Kavita!
Best Regards,
North