Perhaps you’ve stared at the “Labre 7” banner hanging from the Verizon Center rafters and wondered, “Who’s that?”
Even those who know he was an Original Capital may wonder, “Why is he up there?”
Bill Simmons of espn.com noted (obnoxiously) that the retired numbers in Capitals history included "Some guy named Yvon Labre, who was apparently the team chef back in 1978.”
Eh, no. As you’ll discover, Labre richly deserves his recognition, although achieved in a most unorthodox fashion.
99 percent of athletes have their numbers retired for superior achievement or tragic circumstances. Yvon himself would tell you he didn’t fit into either category, despite 7 seasons of reliable defense in D.C. “Thank God there are guys who don’t use their abilities,” he once observed, “so guys who don’t have much – guys like me – can stay in this great game.”
Happily, Labre has also prospered into middle age - although he played a punishing game when saner mortals would have waved the white flag. Labre, describing one shoulder injury: “It sounded the way it does when you crack your knuckles.”
So, what elevated Yvon Labre to the rafters? “Labre wouldn’t quit. There may be those with more talent, but few with as big a heart.”
(Russ White, Washington Star)
“He threw every ounce of his heart into clearing creases and engaging in fights.”
(legendsofhockey.net)
“The guts of a burglar, the heart of an elephant.”
(Robert Fachet, Washington Post)
The heart Labre exhibited wasn’t just admirable; on the 1970’s Caps, it was
super-human. Wrote Fachet, “In sports history, few franchises match the Capitals for ineptitude. With very few exceptions – Labre is an obvious one – the Capitals were saddled with malcontents and fringe players. While teammates often went through the motions, Labre skated at full speed on every shift. Patrons at Capital Centre were guaranteed of one thing – a 100 percent effort from the man with the No. 7 and the “C” on his chest.”
Purists (snobs) will argue this still doesn’t merit a place in the rafters. Hogwash! Labre earned immortality for surviving, under conditions few athletes could have endured. Yvon first demonstated that toughness early in life. After his father died in a mining accident, he supported three brothers as an electrician, at the same time playing junior hockey. While injuries finally forced him to retire in 1981, Labre worked in the Capitals front office through the rest of the 20th century.
Now, as generations of 21st century Caps followers look up at “Labre 7”, I like to think it’s also a tribute to the fans who bravely stuck with the team from its most humble of beginnings. Yvon, Washington’s hockey ambassador, would surely agree.
.bmp)
