Power of Caring
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SI writers have great memories, too

Being moved by Wayne Gretzky 's creativity, hard work and production was not exclusive to those who played the game with him or cheered for him. As you'll see in the memories below, even the Sports Illustrated staff writers marveled at the way Gretzky lived up to his legend before, during and after he was the greatest player in the game.

It was January 1978. Gretzky was 16, playing for the Sault Ste. Marie Greyhounds; I was 26, working on my first assignment for SI. I had followed Gretzky for several games and been interviewed about him by a local newspaper. Offensively, I opined, he could play with anyone in the NHL, but defensively, well, let's just say the only reason he was ever in his defensive zone was because he had to return there occasionally before he could start a rush.

The next game Gretzky was named first star, scoring a goal and adding two assists in a 4-2 win -- a rather unspectacular outing by his standards. But he also played flawlessly in his own end. As he left the ice, I was standing by the runway, and he winked at me as he passed. "Good enough defense for you?" the Kid asked. It was the first glimpse I had of his pride.
—E.M. Swift

Wayne Gretzky sat alone on a Team Canada bench that was as vacant as the nation's heart, head lowered, transfixed. His first, and last, Olympics were over. Coach Marc Crawford had had at his disposal the most prolific goal scorer since God froze water but had chosen not to send him out among Canada's five snipers for the semifinal shootout against the Czech Republic's Dominik Hasek . Gretzky had glided gracefully into the twilight of his career, avoiding the spotlight when it was possible. But in a moment that should have been his -- playing for the homeland that regards him as a national treasure -- his game had receded too far into the shadows for him to be summoned that February 1998 night in Nagano.

He did not complain. Less than an hour after Canada lost the shootout, Gretzky was all quiet solemnity and wisdom and dignity as he faced the inevitable questions about why he had not been used. The great ones learn how to cope with victory and defeat. Gretzky also had the grace to handle everything in between.
—Michael Farber

I remember sitting with Wayne Gretzky on a rainy afternoon in San Jose two hours before a Los Angeles Kings game against the Sharks. It was March 1994, and he was on the verge of breaking Gordie Howe's NHL record of 801 goals. Former Islanders goalie Chico Resch knew I was meeting Gretzky, and he wanted me to ask the Great One this: How did Gretzky, who had routinely exploited Resch's weaknesses, always know the toughest play for each goaltender to handle? Had Wayne been a goaltender once? Had his father, Walter, taught him what to look for?

Gretzky listened to the questions and hesitated before giving this answer: "I studied the game. I respected everyone I ever played against. And I was ready to play every night."

I asked Gretzky simple questions, and he gave me words to live by.
—Austin Murphy

I live in Boston, and Boston was not one of Wayne Gretzky's better stops. The old Garden, with the smallest ice surface in the NHL, took away the flashiest pieces of his repertoire. Watching him play there was like trying to appreciate the majesty of a bald eagle while it was confined in a box.

In the early, championship-filled years of his career with the Edmonton Oilers, Gretzky came to the Garden only once or twice a year. The Bruins slapped a shadow on him -- often forward Steve Kasper , who won the Selke Trophy in 1982 as the league's top defensive forward -- and kept him under control. Gretzky was bumped and bothered as Boston fans cheered. Not counting the five expansion clubs added in the 1990s, the Bruins are the team that held him to the fewest regular-season points, if you consider 71 points in 51 games holding him.

This is the guy who's supposed to be better than Bobby Orr ? was the longtime appraisal of Gretzky by Boston fans. Who are they kidding? Then in 1988 the Bruins reached the Stanley Cup finals. Against the Oilers. Against Gretzky. The series was no contest. Edmonton won in four straight, and Gretzky was everywhere. He made those passes that only he could make, putting the puck on the blade of a teammate's stick in front of the goal at the proper moment. He controlled all power-play situations. He befuddled the Bruins with all his tricks. He finished with 13 points -- three goals and 10 assists -- a record for a final series. He was the easy choice for the Conn Smythe Trophy as the playoff MVP.

Oh, my. The bald eagle was out of the box.
—Leigh Montville

At the 1998 All-Star Game in Vancouver, Gretzky was discussing the Canadian Olympic hockey team's upcoming trip to Nagano. He mentioned some of the players he hoped to spend time with during the Olympics, among them Red Wings left wing Brendan Shanahan . When I relayed this information to Shanahan, he straightened his back. "He said that?" Shanahan asked. "Let's face it, this is Wayne Gretzky -- anyone would love to spend whatever time he could with him. It's not just because of the player he is but the kind of guy he is."

The true measure of a man is how he is judged by his peers, and Gretzky measured up like few others.
—Kostya Kennedy

The first time I saw Wayne Gretzky play in person was 19 years ago, when the Edmonton Oilers defeated the New York Rangers 4-2. Gretzky scored once and set up three goals by Dave Semenko , a player whose primary function was to rejigger anyone who looked cross-eyed at the Great One. On one goal Gretzky set up behind the Rangers net, paused, feigned and fed Semenko for an easy tip-in at the edge of the crease. Even ruffians looked like finishers when they played with Gretzky. "Pretty easy," Semenko said later, "when 99 shoots it off your stick."
—Brian Cazeneuve

It was September 1987, and I had been assigned to write a story about Wayne Gretzky for another national magazine. His agent, Mike Barnett , told me to meet the Great One in Dallas, where the Edmonton Oilers were to play an exhibition game. I found out that the team was gathering for a meal at a steakhouse, so I went there hoping to find Gretzky and make final arrangements for the interview. I spotted him and walked over. Just as I started to introduce myself, a team official jumped into my path and refused to let me through, berating me for the imposition. Before I could utter a response, Gretzky, who always had a tough guy riding shotgun for him on and off the ice, rode shotgun for me. He shooed the guy away and apologized for his behavior. Gretzky and I made plans to meet for lunch the following day. He was 45 minutes late. I didn't care.
—Paul Fichtenbaum