It was a brief exchange, just a few encouraging words from Chicago Blackhawks Chairman Rocky Wirtz, but it always stuck with Pat Foley.
The now-retired broadcaster had been lured back to the team in 2008 by Wirtz, who told him: “I’m really looking forward to watching TV now and watching you do the Hawks games. You are right where you belong.”
Foley’s courtship was just one of several shrewd moves made by Wirtz — who died suddenly July 25 at age 70 — that helped propel the Hawks to a spectacular stretch of success while also making a personal impact on the people around him.
“There’s a 15-second transaction that sticks with me almost two decades later,” Foley said during a public memorial service for Wirtz on Wednesday at the United Center. “He was an uplifting, giving man.
“And he always had a way to make people feel important and feel special. Didn’t matter whether you were the plumber or the bus driver or a CEO, he had a gift for conversing.”
Foley was one of several members of the Hawks community — including newly hired broadcaster Darren Pang and former players Marian Hossa and Brent Seabrook — who shared memories and condolences during the hourlong tribute.
“You’re never ready for something like this. It happened so sudden,” Chris Chelios said. “Really going to miss Rocky.”
Hawks CEO Danny Wirtz, Rocky’s son, presided over a private service Tuesday at Fourth Presbyterian that was attended by NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman and current and former Hawks, including players and coaches from the Stanley Cup years such as Joel Quenneville, Jonathan Toews, Patrick Kane, Corey Crawford and Duncan Keith.
“Seeing Coach Q and his former players, champions … it was powerful,” Pang said Wednesday. “Rocky would have loved that.
“It should be mentioned that the young phenom — unbelievable that Rocky won’t get to see him play — Connor Bedard was also in attendance, paying his respects as a young man. What great respect he showed yesterday, along with coach Luke Richardson and his staff and (general manager) Kyle ‘from Chicago’ Davidson.”
Before Wednesday’s ceremony, a montage of Wirtz’s life in pictures — Christmas with the family, wedding photos — scrolled across the video board.
An acoustic guitarist strummed “Rainbow Connection,” “Let It Be” and other solemn songs while standing near a backdrop of flowers forming the Hawks logo and a No. 13 sweater with “DAD” on the nameplate.
After the service, Wirtz’s relatives and business associates and Hawks fans lined up in a procession to pay final respects.
Howard Reich, 74, a retired lawyer from the North Side, has attended many Hawks practices and couldn’t miss this sendoff.
“I wanted to pay my respects to someone who’s a true gentleman,” Reich said, “and I was glad I was able to experience it through the speakers.”
Many of those speakers helped paint a picture of who Wirtz was as the franchise’s public face as well as behind the scenes.
1. Remembering the businessman
Chelios, the Hall of Fame defenseman and former Hawks captain, remembered how Wirtz and his father, Bill, would use the arena’s Sonja Henie Room as a base for conducting business.
“That’s where they held court,” he said. “And that’s where business was done till late-night hours for sure.”
Chelios said Wirtz had a favorite saying that applied to Hawks business or his wine and beer wholesaler, Breakthru Beverage Group.
“‘Just figure it out,'” Chelios said, adding that it would be punctuated by “that piercing look that he has in his eyes that could cut right through you.”
Diane Fligiel, a Breakthru Beverage employee and Hawks fan, said there was another side to Wirtz the businessman.
“He was a great boss, a great human being,” she said. “It didn’t matter if you were the person that cleaned the floors or the person that was in the boardroom with him, he treated you the same.”
She also marveled at how he used his wit.
“He loved to tease people,” Fligiel said. “If he had something to tease you about, he would absolutely delight in teasing you about things.
“(My husband and I) used to have reptiles and I would get crickets delivered to the office. One time the crickets exploded all over the reception area. And that was right when he came in. For the next 10 years, he teased me about that: ‘So how are the crickets?'”
2. Remembering the chairman
Foley said there’s a truism that applies to team owners: “It’s no good when people are mad at you. There’s something worse than that — when they don’t care about you.
“And when Rocky took over, the Blackhawks were irrelevant in the city of Chicago.”
TV ratings and attendance were abysmal.
“There was nobody in the building,” Foley said. “I’d be up there at the roof calling the game, and you could hear the puck hit the stick on a pass. It was embarrassing.
“But that’s the situation Rocky walked into.”
After Wirtz took over in 2007 following his father’s death, he implemented big changes, including a plan to air home games on TV.
“The first call he made when he got control of the franchise was to a fellow named Jim Corno,” Foley said of the executive with fledgling cable outlet SportsVision, which became Comcast SportsNet. “As many of you remember, that was the biggest thorn in Blackhawks fans’ sides. You couldn’t watch the home games on television.
“Rocky changed it right away when he took over, doing things for the fans, making them feel welcome.”
Foley also noted how the great Stan Mikita previously would have to pay for tickets when hosting friends. Wirtz made a point to roll out the red carpet for the old Hawks and hired several of them as ambassadors.
When Hossa was in the sunset of his career, the Hawks were looking to trade his contract. He met with Wirtz and had a simple request: Just allow him to retire as a Hawk.
“So we shook hands and he made a promise to me — I call it gentlemen’s agreement,” Hossa said. “When it was time for me to officially retire, Rocky delivered (on) his promise. … I was thrilled. That meant a lot to me.”
3. Remembering ‘Just Rocky’
Seabrook shared the story of one of the first times he met Wirtz.
“I remember seeing him at the rink and saying, ‘Hello, Mr. Wirtz.’ He replied, ‘Just call me Rocky.’ I remember calling him Mr. Wirtz a few times after that.
“And finally, maybe after three or four times calling him Mr. Wirtz, he finally stopped and said, ‘Brent. Just Rocky.’ I think there’s several people here today that can tell that same story.”
Seabrook, as no-nonsense on the ice as off, said Wirtz struck the right balance as an owner.
“He wasn’t controlling or around too much,” he said, “but we always felt his presence.”
