Remembering Johnny & Matthew Gaudreau
Most of you likely saw the tragic news this morning that brothers Johnny & Matthew Gaudreau passed away last night after being struck by a drunk driver while riding their bicycles on the side of the road. If the loss of two young men well before their time wasn’t enough, the tragedy came one day before they were to serve as groomsmen in their sister’s wedding.
While I do try to keep things light on here, today I feel compelled to share a few brief thoughts in remembrance of two of Boston College’s proudest sons before deferring to the words of those who really knew them.
Like everyone else, I cannot begin to imagine the severity and depth of pain the Gaudreau family is experiencing. What should have been a day of great joy for their family has been cruelly and unfairly transformed into one of sorrow and indescribable grief because of the selfish actions of one individual.
My deepest sympathies and prayers are with the Gaudreau family and all those who knew and loved Johnny and Matthew.
While I did not have the privilege to know either man personally, I, like so many hockey fans became enamored with the Gaudreau brothers from their time at Boston College. Some of you may remember Johnny’s famous goal to ice the 2012 National Championship for the Eagles.
That filthy goal, scored by a then-18-year-old Johnny Gaudreau, forever cemented the legacy of the man known simply as Johnny Hockey.
Over the next couple of seasons I had the distinct privilege to watch Johnny play in person at BC on a number of occasions. To this day, I’ve never seen anything quite like him on the ice.
At just 5’9” he would weave in and out of monstrous Division 1 defenders as if they were just minor annoyances on his path to the net. The puck seemed to cling to his stick like it was on a string. It was preposterous — this tiny kid who, in the immortal words of Barry Melrose, “looked about 12 years old,” was simply the most electric player to ever put on a BC sweater.
Unsurprisingly, Johnny was rewarded the prestigious Hobey Baker award in 2014, which is given annually to college hockey’s best player. This inspired a nickname that somehow almost rivaled Johnny Hockey: Gaudreauby Baker.
That same year, BC played in the Frozen Four against Union College and my father, brother, and I decided to road trip to Philadelphia to take in the tournament. BC ended up losing a back and forth semifinal game despite Johnny chipping in two apples and a gino. However, one play at the end of that game has always stuck with me.
BC scored a meaningless goal to bring it within 1 with just 4.2 seconds left in the game. And while that’s not enough time to have a realistic shot of doing just about anything, Johnny still tried:
That’s how talented he was. That’s how hard he played. In an impossible situation he still got a shot off and gave his team a chance. He wouldn’t give up until he heard the horn. If you watch the actual highlight, you can hear the announcers laughing after the shot because of just how preposterous it was that he even got himself in that position.
I think you can guess how Johnny’s hockey career went from there.
Matthew would follow in his brother’s footsteps and join Johnny at the Heights, a great player in his own right. The Gaudreau’s even overlapped a season, getting the chance to wear the maroon and gold and share the same ice as brothers. After a stint in the minor leagues and following the conclusion of his playing career, Matthew turned to coaching to pass on his knowledge of the game to the next generation.
However, as much as we all enjoyed having the chance to watch the brothers play a great game, it’s important to remember that we don’t mourn two hockey players today. We mourn two brothers. Two sons. Two husbands. Two fathers. Johnny leaves behind two young children, while Matthew was just months from the birth of his first child.
It’s been said a million times today but it bears repeating: hug your family; tell the people in your life you love them; none of us are guaranteed the next moment.
Hockey is merely how we came to know Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. In reality, it’s a game and represents a mere fragment of who they were and how they will be remembered.
For their true impact on this world and those they loved and leave behind, I will defer to a few of the many public remembrances posted by the people who were fortunate to have known the brothers in life.
