Shortly after the accident that would end his playing career and inexorably change his life, a question popped up on one of the NHL newsgroups I frequented. "Who is this Travis Roy kid I keep hearing about?" The responses he got were correct: Travis was a player at Boston University and he had been injured. But these answers didn't scratch the surface of who Travis was. So I attempted to describe him.
If you had a son, you wanted him to be friends with Travis. You wanted them to be teammates. If you had a daughter you wanted her to date Travis. You would sleep better at night knowing your kids had someone like him in their lives. He was so incredibly talented as a hockey player, but he was an infinitely better person. Thoughtful, caring, generous.
We don't yet know the details of what happened to Travis. And the details aren't that important. What matters is that we have lost a special, sweet, kind giant of a man today and nothing is going to change that fact or make it better.
Last week marked 25 years since his injury and his foundation asked people to share their memories and thoughts on the occasion. I'll repeat here what I said there:
A selfish part of me feels cheated. I loved watching Travis skate. I loved watching him play hockey. There isn't a person who knows him who doubts for a moment that he would have made it to the NHL. We were robbed of that. But then one has to consider what kind of substantial impact even the best hockey player in the world can make in the lives of others. Then look at everything Travis has accomplished for people all over the globe, who may never have seen a hockey game before. They have a ramp, a lift or some other piece of equipment that makes their life better. That will be Travis' legacy and it's hard to imagine a more meaningful one to leave behind.