evidently, i haven’t been a forthright with my nickname as i’d thought. when i mentioned someone referring to me as bob, my dear friend, evey, replied with shock. “they call you bob?” um, yeah. only all my life long.
as the story goes, i was a pretty devoted hockey fan back in the day. i’m not sure why it might’ve happened, but the first time i ever put a few words together, they formed the phrase “bobby orr, number four.” like any toddler, after i said it once, i said it over and over and over again. every time i saw a bruins logo: “bobby orr, number four.” a guy with a stick in hand: “bobby orr, number four.” hockey night in canada: “bobby orr, number four.” pretty much anything became bobby orr, number four until i did, too. almost every man in my family has called me that ever since then, even the ones who weren’t even around at that time. i think i can count on one hand the number of times i’ve heard my dad say my real name. for a while there, i doubted he even knew it!
so, that’s my story. i’ve been christened with a plethora of nicknames throughout my long life, but this is the one that’s always stuck. not gonna lie, i’m pretty okay with it.
this was the cup finals gift that kevin gave me back in june
it’s a replica from the actual year that i would have first earned my name