It was May 1993, I was a teenage kid living in Toronto. During the Conference Finals between the Kings and Maple Leafs, a friend and I skipped school and somehow managed to sneak into Maple Leaf Gardens to watch Gretzky and Co. practice. We lasted about as long as you'd expect. In the middle of practice, Barry spotted us and screamed at the top of his lungs: "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY PRACTICE!" Security came running and threw us out and told us not to be around Maple Leaf Gardens or they would call the police. Instead, we waited outside in front of Maple Leaf Gardens where the team bus was on Carlton Street hoping to get some autographs. A little later, Barry walked out. Mullet slicked back, LA Kings tracksuit, looking like a Wall Street executive. He looked at directly at us. He knew exactly who we were they "assholes who snuck into his practice". He started bee lining walking toward us with a straight face, and we were bracing ourselves for another round of getting told to fuck off. But as he got closer, his face changed. He started laughing. "HEY, YOU ASSHOLES!" He threw his arms around both of us, hugged us and apologized for the swearing. He told us it wasn't personal, he was coaching and we shouldn't have been in his practice. As Barry talked to us, there was hot dog stand AKA Street Meat few metres away from us, he ordered three hot dogs and three Cokes, pulled out a $100 bill from what looked like a gangster roll of cash wrapped in a rubber band, told the guy to keep the change and wanted only lot of Mustard on his hot dog. Then he looked at us and delivered the line that two teenage hockey-obsessed kids will never forget: "You know we're going to fucking win this series." And in that moment, we both knew that Toronto wasn't going to win the series. That's Barry. He didn't have to come to us. He didn't have to apologize. He didn't have to hug two teenage shitheads who had just snuck into his practice. He didn't have to buy us street meat and cola. But he did. He made two die hard hockey fans feel like they mattered. And more than 30 years later, I still remember it like it happened yesterday. So when you say, "You treated every person the same. You treated them like they were special. In front of the camera, more importantly, behind the camera." I can tell you firsthand that's exactly who Barry Melrose was. Read a lot of comments from people saying that "The hockey world lost an icon". But I would counter, the world lot an exceptional human being. The world lost something much more personal. We lost a great man who made you feel like you were somebody. Love ya, Barry. 🏒❤️