What you had at the time was a dictatorship with the team owners.

The owners and managers were too stupid to realize we had brains.

When it was my turn, I just skated out and heard this huge cheer. It was very touching considering the bad circumstances under which I had left the team and that I had been away for four years.

I had that flying wheel tattooed on my forehead and on my butt.

But a funny thing happened four years later. I was invited to play for an alumni team against the Red Wings.

I liked playing in Chicago, and I gave them everything I had, but I knew in my heart I was a Red Wing.