An Ode to Pleky

I was looking at some old photos of a trip to Prague from the summer of 2012. Remember traveling? It was a thing we used to do. Although somewhat demoralizing to recall times when international travel was unencumbered by a global pandemic, it was nice to reminisce about one of my favourite trips abroad. That voyage was only my second time in Europe and my first trip to the Czech Republic. And I can’t think about the Czech Republic without thinking about Pleky.

By “Pleky” I mean Tomas Plekanec, the Czech hockey player and former centre for the Habs who played parts of 15 seasons in the NHL racking up 1001 regular season games played, including 233 goals, and 375 assists. He also tallied 53 points in 94 playoff games. Apart from a brief stint with the Toronto Maple Leafs near the tail end of his career, Pleky was a Montreal Canadien through and through. He embodied the type of gritty, relentless, hard-checking style the current Habs have demonstrated while defying expectations to reach the semi-finals of the 2021 NHL playoffs.

When I was visiting Prague in 2012, the Habs were coming off a disappointing season in which they missed the playoffs by a mile. Although the absence of Habs’ post-season hockey always leaves me yearning, at least I could disengage from my fandom and enjoy my European vacation. Or so I thought. As it would turn out, my fanaticism for the Habs followed me around – even all the way across the Atlantic Ocean.

I loved Prague with its bohemian atmosphere and old-world charm. It reminded me of Montreal with a Gothic twist. One day, I wandered around the city, getting lost in its mess of narrow, cobblestone streets. It was particularly hot that day. I managed to find my way to one of the city’s famous castles and stopped at a nearby beer garden to quench my thirst before venturing inside the fortress’s walls. Czech pilsner is unquestionably the best beer to slurp under a hot European sun. Beer is ubiquitous in Prague. And don’t bother asking for a small beer – “That size is for children,” the server will tell you jokingly (at least I think they’re joking).

If you’ve been to Europe, you know that the service in restaurants and bars is typically different than what you’ll experience in North America. And by “different” I mean slow. Maybe “indifference” is a better term. They’ll get to you when they get to you. But you get used to it quickly. At this particular beer garden, I sat down at a table prepared to wait several minutes for service. However, within seconds a server excitedly bounded over to my table. Clearly, he didn’t speak much English. But he had something important to tell me. He reached into the front pocket of his apron and pulled out his phone. With hands trembling, he showed me the wallpaper image on his lock screen. It was the logo of the Montreal Canadiens. Then he pointed at my hat with the same logo. I had completely forgotten that I was wearing it.

“Montreal Canadiens!” he blurted.

“Yes! Go Habs go!” I replied.

“Best team in world,” he said, clearly ecstatic to see a fellow Habs fan in the wild. “Please. You from Montreal?”

“I live in a different city in Canada now. But I lived in Montreal for 2 years,” I explained.

“No!” he gasped, gawking at me admirably as though my fleeting residency in the city of his beloved Habs made me an instant celebrity. “You go to game?”

“At the Bell Centre? Yes, I’ve been to many,” I said.

It looked like his brain was going to explode.

“Nooooooo!” he exclaimed, happily clapping his hands. “Beer? I bring you beer!”

And before I could even respond he had scurried away to fetch me a pint. When he returned with a glass of golden pilsner, he beamed with delight as he placed the frothy brew delicately in front of me.

“Beer,” he announced proudly.

“Děkuji!” I said, offering my thanks with the only Czech word in my vocabulary.

And then, because I can’t help myself from being horribly awkward, I blurted out the first thing I thought would help bridge our cross-cultural divide, “Tomas Plekanec?”

He stared at me like I was wearing a Youppi! costume.

“Tomas Plekanec,” I repeated. “Great hockey player!”

“Ooooh,” he responded, suddenly realizing what I was trying to say. “Tomas Plekanec!”

I had pronounced his name like “Thomas Pleck-ANNE-Ick.” He obviously pronounced it correctly by saying something that sounded more like “Toe-Mosh PLEK-en-itz.”

“Yes! Nice player,” he said excitedly. “Almost good like Jagr!” he said, referring to Plekanec’s fellow Czech countryman and Hall of Famer, Jaromir Jagr.

We chatted for a few minutes about the Canadiens as best we could given the language barrier. The man’s enthusiasm for the Habs was palpable. And it was my first experience bonding with a stranger in a foreign land over a shared passion for the Montreal Canadiens. It was wonderful.

When I tried to pay for my beer, the man refused. “For Montreal fan, it is honour.”

I think a lot about that moment and how this team has brought people together. How it unites us. Across Montreal. Across Quebec. Across Canada. Across the entire world. This fellowship begins and ends with players like Pleky. They are the true Habs. Plekanec was drafted almost 20 years ago in the 3^rd round of the 2001 NHL Entry Draft and what we are currently seeing from the Habs has provenance in Pleky’s contributions and devotion to Le Tricolore. He modelled exemplary play for nearly two decades with the club. Although his signature turtleneck never caught on with the Habs who have followed in his footsteps, his tenacity and leadership have. More than two years after his last game in a Habs uniform, his legacy lives on. I remember his biggest moments.

I remember the opening round of the famous playoff run of 2010 when the Habs beat the highly touted Washington Capitals. That series was eerily similar to the opening round of the 2021 playoffs. The Leafs, just like the Caps, were the top seed and expected to roll over the Habs. In both cases, the Habs came back from 3-1 series deficits to move on.

Before the Washington series, Pleky disparaged the Caps’ goalie, Jose Theodore (also a former Hab), suggesting he wasn’t among the league’s best. Theodore took offense and asked reporters, “Tomas who? Jagr? Oh, Plekanec! I thought you said Jagr.” Essentially, Theo was saying that Pleky was no elite player himself, and certainly not as consequential as fellow Czech player Jaromir Jagr. That night in Game 1, Pleky did this in overtime:

Theodore didn’t play another game in the series.

Czech mate.

And how could we forget this gem from 2017 when Pleky tied Game 2 of their opening round against the Ranger with 17 seconds left to force overtime. The Habs would win in extra time.

These are the moments I’ll never forget. And Pleky laid the groundwork for many more memories to come. He entertained. He led. He left everything out there for the Montreal Canadiens. And despite not being on the current roster, his legacy is part of the connective tissue of this club.

I have no doubt the man who bought me a beer in Prague has been watching and enjoying the current run that the Habs are on. And I know Pleky is watching too.

Děkuji.