Patrice Brisebois’ buddy, Gino Risatto, has come to Denver for a visit. On Sunday afternoon, Risatto was waiting for the Avalanche defenseman after Colorado’s practice, eagerly looking forward to the guys’ bonding excursion to the Broncos-Jets game at Invesco Field at Mile High.
At some point later in the day, perhaps, Brisebois could have told his friend of Broncos quarterback Jake Plummer’s hot-and-cold relationship with the Denver fans and explained:
It’s like being a Canadien in Montreal.
“Nobody recognizes me here,” Brisebois said with a smile. “If I want to go in a restaurant, it’s not, ‘Hey, Brisebois, give me an autograph!’ Or, ‘Hey Brisebois, you (stink)!”‘
At 34, Brisebois certainly isn’t complaining about his lot in life as he adjusts to playing with the Avalanche, who face the Calgary Flames tonight at the Pepsi Center. This can be the best of both worlds for NHL players – playing in a market that has produced sellouts since November 1995, and has a deep-rooted passion for the sport, yet doesn’t consider the 23-man roster the most recognizable 23 men in town.
In Montreal, the spotlight is so bright and unrelenting, it’s a wonder they can keep the ice from turning to slush after the first five minutes of each period.
Brisebois joined the Canadiens, the team he revered, as a teenager. He was holding the Stanley Cup aloft – with Patrick Roy – at age 22, after his first full season in the NHL.
The problem was, when the Canadiens became mediocre, or worse, Montreal required scapegoats. Brisebois took risks that sometimes backfired. He often seemed to be the defenseman banging the ice with his stick after an opponent’s goal. He became the fashionable choice to blame, the guy whose every imperfection became magnified. Fans went after him and so did the media, in two languages.
“In this game, you’re like a boat captain,” said Brisebois, who still speaks slowly and sometimes tentatively in English. “You get big waves, but you know you’re going to pass the big waves and have better times. … When things aren’t going well, they want to do something and blame someone. There were two or three in the media who for some reason were really against me. But I know I did everything I could for the fans. I gave money to charity, I did everything hockey players should do for their community. But I took a big lesson from all of it. In life, you can’t please everybody.
“It was hard, very hard. My mother called me a few times and she was crying on the phone, and I said, ‘Mom, don’t worry about it!’ You have to be tough, but once it has hurt your mother and your family, I think it’s time to go.”
So after the end of the NHL lockout, when the Canadiens called and told him they weren’t picking up his contract option, Brisebois agreed with Montreal GM Bob Gainey it was best for all concerned.
“I didn’t care about the money or things like that,” Brisebois said. “I wanted to win, and I wanted to be happy. Last year we played, at Montreal, I was not.
“That’s what this game is supposed to be! Forget about the money! Since I was a kid, I have loved to play this game. I started skating at 4 years old. I’m 34, I’m going to be 35 (in January) and I’m still jumping to get on the ice like a little kid. That’s the passion.”
On the same day the Avalanche heard of Peter Forsberg’s and Adam Foote’s signings with Philadelphia and Columbus, respectively, Colorado signed Brisebois and Pierre Turgeon.
That night, a lot of us – including me – noted that Brisebois, touted as a potential second-wave threat from the blue line in the New NHL, had scored only four goals in each of the past three seasons – or half as many as the far more physical and defensive-oriented Foote in the same period. Brisebois had slipped considerably since he had 15 goals for the Canadiens in 2000-01, and his status as the man they loved to boo in Montreal was well- known.
Freed of the stigma of having his every move scrutinized by a crowd predisposed to assume the worst, Brisebois has been solid, and not just because in the relaunched NHL he is already on pace for a 20-goal season. At both ends, under the new definitions of what can and can’t be done, at least, he has been solid.
“He’s smart, he’s steady and I like his patience with the puck,” coach Joel Quenneville said. “And with his anticipation defensively, he has a great understanding of the game.”
Off the ice, Brisebois and his wife, Michele, have adjusted to Denver, and their oldest of two daughters, Alexandra, is about to begin English-language school.
The fresh start has been nothing to boo about.
Staff writer Terry Frei can be reached at 303-820-1895 or tfrei@denverpost.com.
