Introduction By Bob Gainey "You can't go back, but you can go there again." These are the words that pushed me from decision-making to decision on a beautiful spring day in May 2003. As I turned my car into the long driveway at our home on Stony Lake, forty kilometres northeast of Peterborough, I knew I would be the next general manager of the Club de Hockey Canadien. A few days later, on June 3, 2003, a press conference was held at the Bell Centre, home of the Canadiens, to introduce me in my new role. The questions from the herd of journalists came at slap-shot speed. Cameras clicked and flashed even faster. Many of the questions I didn't have answers for . yet.

Would coach Claude Julien be returning? What would I do with player contracts? Who were the prospects in the system? How did I explain the dismal season the Habs had just completed, missing the playoffs? There was one answer I did have, to a question which came both subtly and directly: Why would I agree to take this position? The team was a disaster. The fans were enraged. The media were on the warpath. The future looked dismal. Why put myself in this unenviable position? The answer was easy and, to me, crystal clear; In Montreal, the Canadiensmatter! In Quebec, the Canadiensmatter! In Canada, the Canadiensmatter! All of that only made the general manager's job more challenging, a point captured by Terry Mosher, also known as Aislin, celebrated editorial cartoonist of the MontrealGazette. In the next day's paper, Mosher depicted me standing behind the podium at the press conference being asked, "Do think you can walk on water?" Answer:see page viii! The Montreal Canadiens mattered to me. And I knew how important, how vital and how deeply rooted they were in the culture and history of Montrealers, Quebecers, Canadians and others. I had learned these lessons early in my playing days.

In September of 1973, I began what would be a sixteen-year career with the Habs. I recall a situation about a year later, while looking for a dentist office early one morning in the borough of Verdun. Hoping to ask for directions, I walked into a cafe filled with diners enjoying breakfast. The entire place went completely silent. Nobody moved. Every person there recognized me. And all of us were in shock they because I was there, and I at the realization they knew me. I got my directions and left, relieved, as quickly as I could.

I was reminded of the importance of the Montreal Canadiens in many ways and many places, like the time I was in Helsinki, Finland, playing with Team Canada. Walking incognito (I believed) along a downtown street, I was approached from the opposite direction by a person who made eye contact and then asked in heavily-accented English: "What happened to the Canadiens in the playoffs?" There is no escape from Montreal fans! Loyalty to the Canadiens tends to run deep and long, as I learned from my old friend Richard Halford of New York City. A year ago, he called to let me know it was the fiftieth anniversary, to the day, of the game he saw with his father at Madison Square Garden between the Canadiens and Rangers. He got Rocket Richard's autograph after the game and has been a fervent Canadiens fan ever since. From my rookie season thrity-five years ago, I have been in contact, directly or indirectly, with much of the Canadiens' history. In that time, I met many former players and staff. I was curious about their careers and put a lot of questions to Blake, Richard, Bouchard, Curry, Pollock, Mahovlich, Laperriere, Bowman and others. They were generous with their replies.

Their memories let me touch, hear and see the reality of their lives with the Habs back to the 19.