By Rookie and Czechtacular, AllHabs.net

It’s often been said that Saku Koivu’s captaincy holds a lot of emotional importance for Canadiens fans in their twenties, since he was the team’s leader for most of our youth. I think our stories are an example of that. Rookie loved Saku Koivu as he was the first Habs captain she ever cheered for:

This is my Saku Koivu T-shirt. I’m 99% sure it’s the first piece of Canadiens merchandise I ever owned. I remember where I bought it, when I bought it, and how much it cost. It wasn’t really that long ago, but as some of you know already I’m relatively new to hockey fandom. I bought it because I needed something to wear to the first Habs game I went to, a hard-earned win against the New York Islanders. I didn’t know very much about hockey or the Canadiens then, but I knew about Saku. I knew that he played like a gentleman, that he was the consummate captain, and that he had – in my words – “kicked cancer’s ass.” I didn’t even try on any other T-shirts. I just tried on the one Koivu shirt and made sure it fit – which it did, barely. I admired the #11 on the back and the logo and the captain’s C at the front. (It hadn’t been long since I had learned what a captain’s C was.)

Saku Koivu was awarded the previous month’s Molson Cup that night, and the friend who brought me to the game made it sound like this was a regular occurrence. I applauded his win, and proceeded to spend the rest of the night both excited and confused by the game that unfolded in front of me.

As I started to watch more hockey in the year that followed, I would start to wear my Koivu T-shirt more and more often – at school, at home while watching games, sometimes even at work. The screen print began to crack, and the fabric started fading and shrinking. It was snug, and the collar felt a little tight around the base of my neck but I still wore it. After all, what’s a little discomfort when you keep in mind that the man whose name I wore came back from cancer, played through injuries, and sometimes endured scrutiny from a province who expected him to master a third language just so members of the media wouldn’t have to interview him in their second?

There were a few fans in this city who were more than ready to bid Captain Koivu goodbye as the end of his contract neared in 2009. I was not one of those people. I was one of the people who secretly hoped he’d be offered a long-term contract, but knew that he’d likely move on to another team. There was no fanfare to his exit, no anticipation for his new contract, no protest to keep him in town, no emotional montages on the sports channels. He just faded away, enjoying the Anaheim sunshine far from the scrutiny of this snowy town.

And I just kept watching hockey, my questions and punchlines happily received by my friend Czechtacular, whose introduction to Saku was also at the onset of her hockey fandom, and it quickly had its effect on the rest of her household:

My brother was very young when the house he lived in was taken over by hockey, thanks to yours truly and the already-present interest of our father.  He was so young that his attention span prevented him from watching more than three minutes of a game, much less let him pick his favourite player.  One day we both looked at the team photo I had up on my wall and I decided that his favourite should be the best friend of my favourite.  Mark Recchi’s best friend–and linemate, responsible for all sorts of goals that led me to my love for the game–was Saku Koivu.  Unbeknownst to him at the time, my little brother had gained a new figure, friend and role model.

I later met someone who would become my best friend, and it became clear that she had already very well made up her mind about Saku as her Canadiens’ wall-decorations highly outclassed my own.  We became each other’s outlets as we grew to know the game–and each other–better.  A little over a year later, just as we had secured tickets for our first preseason game together with our dads, Saku was diagnosed with cancer.  I came home from school that day to find a dark cloud already looming over training camp and spoke about it for hours over the phone with my friend.  Neither of us could believe it.  We were still under that starry-eyed impression that star-athletes had an extra degree of immunity over the rest of us that exempted them from such horrible news, especially at what we considered to be still such a young age.

The world only got darker as 9/11 happened just a few days later.  Because of that, the first preseason game which was supposed to have been against the Rangers had to be cancelled, making our game the first one–non-officially of course–of the season.  My friend and I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to make, though we had noncommittally planned to already, a “Get Well Saku” sign.  My friend’s acquaintance seated behind the bench later told us that Brian Savage saw and was very appreciative of it when we showed up carrying it as high as we could (it was half our size) on the big screen.  (It was a lot easier to get up on the big screen those days, as there were–get this–empty seats in the 400s.)

We later sent the sign to Saku and each of us received signed greeting cards from him and his wife Hanna in appreciation of our gesture.  A few of our other friends had also sent along well-wishes and every single one mentioned receiving a similar card as well.  We couldn’t go to the game of his return, but being at home we had the advantage of being able to stand up for as long as we wanted.

Saku was and is many things to me.  The smiling face I entrusted as a proper first idol for my younger brother, the hockey player that was constantly able to find my favourite for highlight-reel plays as well as create many of his own, the person that brought me closer to a kindred soul in a time when those were pretty difficult to find, and a timeless inspiration in perseverance.

I know he is also many things to many people, including the 21 273 who have the privilege of being at the Bell Centre on Saturday night, and it is my hope and Rookie’s as well that they will find the best way to acknowledge him for each and every single one. As for Rookie, she’ll watch the game wearing the shrunken, faded Koivu T-shirt, which has been safely folded away in a drawer since the day he became an Anaheim Duck. It will probably be framed after Saturday.