Traveling with Blues general manager Ron Caron back in the festive (Chuck) Norris Division days was quite a trip.
This man’s emotions hung on every shift his team played. The Professor’s agitation began with the opening faceoff and built toward the game's conclusion.
If the referee jobbed the Blues on a given night – highly likely in those days, given the rough treatment NHL officials accorded visiting teams – he would storm the guy’s dressing room and rail at the intervening league operative. Purple-faced, veins bulging in his skull, arms waving, obscenities spewing forth with a thick French accent . . . the show never disappointed.
Hockey was Caron’s life. His passion for the sport is what we will remember most. It fueled his relentless professional drive. It kept him searching for ways to improve his team and bring a Stanley Cup to St. Louis, a quest he nearly completed in 1986.
His passing last night was tremendously sad for all those who have been around the organization since the bizarre Harry Ornest Era.
Tonight his two teams, the Canadiens and Blues, play in Montreal. These franchises were two loves, along with his family and a few close friends.
The former teacher began his NHL career as a scout for the Canadiens, bird-dogging young talent for that juggernaut franchise. He worked his way toward the top of the organizational chart, ultimately gaining control of the scouting operation.
With the promotion game great expectations . . . and the expectations were ultimately not met. The end came and it hit him hard.
Ornest wisely tapped him to run the Blues’ hockey operation after he pulled the franchise off the NHL’s scrap heap. Harry ordered Caron to retool the team on a very tight budget. He directed him to trade off his high-priced stars for whatever he could get.
Ornest expected him to build a viable team on a shoestring budget. And build it he did, assembling a group that nearly won it all under charismatic coach Jacques Demers.
Ironically, it was Doug Wickenheiser who scored the decisive “Monday Night Miracle” goal against the Calgary Flames. The drafting of the ill-fated Wickenheiser in Montreal over flashy French-Canadian star Denis Savard ultimately doomed Caron with the Habs.
With another bounce here or a bounce there against the Flames, the ’86 Blues could have advanced to the Cup Final and a favorable matchup with the Canadiens.
Just imagine what beating the Canadiens for the Cup would have meant to Caron? It might have been too much for his heart to bear.
Alas, The Professor was not an especially lucky man. Breaks did not come his way with much consistency. For every really good thing that happened on his watch, something terrible occurred.
Demers bailed on him after the team's storybook run, jumping to the Detroit Red Wings as coach. The great Barclay Plager, one of the greatest leaders the sport has ever known, fell ill and eventually lost his fight against brain tumors.
Caron identified Jacques Martin and Doug MacLean as bright coaching prospects. Both went on to long and successful NHL careers, although they enjoyed only middling success here while learning the ropes.
He passed on destined Hall of Famer Joe Sakic to draft the unfortunate Keith Osborne. Why? He seemed set at center with Bernie Federko and Doug Gilmour.
Then came Gilmour’s “Adventures in Babysitting” episode and Caron was ordered to deal him ASAP in a fire sale.
He sent elite defenseman Rob Ramage to Calgary for a chubby young shooter named Brett Hull. This was not a popular deal at the time, but it became a franchise changer.
He made a steal of a deal for Adam Oates, who became Hullie’s running mate. But then Adam’s persistent contract squabbles prompted his departure in the unhappy Craig Janney deal.
Caron drafted center Cliff Ronning and acquired forwards Geoff Courtnall and Sergio Momesso . . . and dealt them in the lamentable Garth Butcher trade, at the behest of coach Brian Sutter.
With team president Jack Quinn and chairman Mike Shanahan going rogue, the Blues grabbed free agent Scott Stevens from the Capitals and surrendered five first-round picks as compensation. The bold move shocked the NHL.
But a year later a league arbitrator awarded Stevens to New Jersey when the team’s defiant free-agent play on Brendan Shanahan backfired.
Such was the nature of Caron’s time here. There were many highs and many lows. His mercurial nature ultimately worked against him, as did various misfortunes beyond his control.
But his St. Louis legacy is significant. He should be remembered as much more than an eccentric character that spoke in Latin riddles. He should be remembered as more than just a warm and generous man who loved mingling with fans, hosting large dinner parties and parrying with reporters.
He helped save hockey in St. Louis. What if that team had tanked under Ornest’s erratic and penurious control? How long would the team have stayed?
His deals for Hull and Oates created a show that inspired casual fans to pack the old Arena. This excitement inspired the building of a new downtown arena and attracted big-spending owner Bill Laurie.
While Caron never won it all here, he kept hockey alive during bleak times and showed just how big the sport could become in St. Louis.
He never quit dreaming and believing and scheming. His urgency never waned. There was always another move to make, one more opportunity to make things better.
St. Louis may never see another like him — and it was most fortunate to have him as long as it did.
