STONY POINT… Friends, I am still working on my final TEAM USA and TEAM CANADA Olympic rosters and will have them for you next week. This time of year always gives me pause to reflect upon a few losses I along with many others have experienced over the years, a couple of them even more poignant this summer because this is the 10-year mark of their passing. One was a giant in the world of hockey, someone you can easily say was one of those guys who only come along once in your lifetime. The other really was a giant, and a very close friend as well. At one time he was one of the most well-known professional wrestlers of his era.

But first off, coming up on Sunday the 11th we will observe the 10-year anniversary of the passing of one of the most innovative and unique people to ever grace the world of ice hockey. If you liked the game years ago or if you like it now, you know the story of Herb Brooks, the engineer of one of the greatest achievements in the history of sports. The Team USA 1980 Olympic gold medalists were poked, prodded, and pushed beyond their limits by Brooks to obtain the most unlikely sports victory in modern times.

Unlike another scribe from within these pages, I didn’t know Brooks personally. I met him several times at various hockey events and so on, but I can’t say we were acquaintances. I did have season tickets for Gopher hockey during his coaching stint at the U. And they were exciting times. Three national titles in seven seasons and some of the most intense rivalry hockey you could ever witness. In addition, I got to personally attend two of the NCAA tourneys where Herbie’s boys brought home the big trophy. They were exhilarating times for a hockey fan in the Metro. One of my favorite hockey pictures I own is of Big John Mariucci attempting to force Herb to shake hands with another legend of the game, Badger Bob Johnson. I smile every time I look at it.

The Olympic games in 1980: I can’t really describe to you what it was like to follow that tourney, especially having just cheered on many of these players and Brooks in Detroit months earlier for the national title. Hockey “nirvana” seems inadequate. The last time I saw Herb was actually at the DECC. I think the Bulldogs were playing Yale in their holiday tourney (December 2001) and Herb was there scouting for the Penguins. The MFAN Jr. and I were just a few seats away from him. We went over and shook hands and wished him luck at the upcoming Salt Lake City games, and he signed the young MFAN Jr.’s game ticket for him.

In August of 2003 I was at my folks’ home outside of Springfield, IL, with my daughter. We had just gotten back from shopping and an early dinner, and my dad had turned on the evening news, where the second lead story was of Brooks’ accident and passing. The room got very quiet—we were all fans. I went into the guest room, tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. But it turned out to be too true at that. The rest of my trip just wasn’t right. One of the greatest coaches and characters the hockey world had ever known was gone from us…

THE WEEK DIDN’T GET any better. One of the best friends I had ever had in this life was a big, gentle giant of a man. He was well-known on the Shore as the owner of Lou’s Fish House in Two Harbors. He was known to many others as former pro wrestler Karl Von Shober. To me he was just my big buddy Lou Sjoberg. As a former TV wrestling aficionado, I enjoyed knowing someone who had the background of Lou. At one time he knew and wrestled against every big name in that business, spanning from 1949 up until 1963. Occasionally we would talk wrestling, but only if he initiated it. It was a tough life to be in, with a lot of travel, a lot of pain and agony, and no “home” matches.

I got to know Lou and his wife Jo Ann because they were clients of mine at the time. They were like grandparents to my kids and I loved them dearly. Lou and I could exchange business and marketing ideas for hours, sometimes until Jo finally couldn’t take it anymore. One evening when we were bouncing ideas off of each other, well into hour three Jo came into the room and told us that if we didn’t stop, she was going to bounce us both out into the parking lot! You know Lou was a huge guy, but I think we both thought she would follow through.

It was Friday the 15th, and still down from the passing of Brooks I called Lou to see if he would be up for a visit on Saturday eve when I returned from my trip. Suddenly he said he had to go. That was the last time we talked. Very early the morning of the 16th, I was in bed and not sleeping. I saw the face of my phone light up and I guess a message had been left for me. I was 10 miles into my trip back when I remembered to retrieve the voicemail that had been left for me. It was Jo.

My big buddy had gone into diabetic shock and couldn’t be saved; he passed not long before Jo had left the message. I am guessing that I may have been the last person here that he spoke to. I sat on that exit ramp for a while trying to regain my composure. My daughter was shaken up as well, as Lou was a friend and was now also her first employer. It was a long, quiet trip home and a devastating five days. It was hard to see Jo when I got back. It’s hard to believe that this upcoming week will mark 10 years since. I could not have been luckier than to have crossed paths with these two in my lifetime… PEACE

MFAN EXTRA: Aug. 1st was the 12-year mark of the training camp death of Vikings star Korey Stringer. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the passing of Lake County commissioner Paul Bergman, another former client and casual acquaintance. For Paul, all I can say is that if every town in this country had a Paul Bergman in it, we would be in a lot better shape than that we find ourselves in currently. RIP…