I grew up outside of Hartford Connecticut, a die hard Whalers Fan. We shared season tickets, so I saw quite a few games. Even when a collapsed Hartford Civic Center roof forced the Whalers to Springfield in 1978, my friends and family would follow.

One thing that made those drives to Springfield worthwhile was being able to see Gordie Howe play in his final few seasons. In those days, Gordie played with his sons Mark and Marty. Gordie was 50 that year and still managed to score 34 goals and 96 points (Gordie’s son Mark scored 91 points that year, as a defenseman!).

My favorite memory of Gordie, however, would come from a Whalers charity event a few years later called, “Tip A Whaler” night. The event was basically a gala dinner where the Whalers — past and present — would serve as waiters. Gordie was there that night, and I was desperate to get his autograph. At one point he was standing close by with his back to me. I walked up to him, reached up (I was probably around 13 at the time) and tapped him lightly on the back). Gordie spun around in a blur, picked me up, and body slammed me to the floor. I wasn’t hurt, but I was startled. As I hurtled toward that hard landing, I remember thinking, “wow this guy is really strong.”

A fraction of a second after I hit the ground, Gordie’s eyes went wide with shock and shame and remorse as he realized what he had done. He picked me up immediately and apologized profusely. He told me he thought I was someone else. He signed my autograph and offered a dozen more apologies and moved off, still probably a little ashamed.

Later, I learned that one of Gordie’s most famous fights in Detroit (he was known as one of the toughest players to ever play hockey) started when a player hit him from behind. I wondered if I had triggered some sort of PTSD by tapping him on the back.

Many years later, I’ve lost that autograph, but I’ll always have that body slam — a truly authentic keepsake.

Rest in peace, Gordie.