The forty-first floor of Toronto Maple Leaf tower is where we find the office of General Manager Lou Lamoriello. The luxurious space occupies fully half of the floor. For this reason, amongst others, there is not a lot of activity up here. Lou will often leave his door open. This in no way signifies an open door policy. If anything it is a trap for the uninitiated. Lou can rant for hours about poor etiquette, and even the slightest breach will set him off. Lou’s profanity laden ranting has become legendary in his short time in Toronto, a fact not lost on his boss Brendan Shanahan.

Brendan has no time to play around though. The Toronto Maple Leafs president has many duties and obligations. Still, he has learned to respect Lou’s ability to be catastrophic. The open door is not in itself uncommon, the silience emanating from Lou’s office certainly is. Without the slightest hesitation Brendan strides through the door.

“Hey Brendo!” Lou greets Brendan with a wave and a warm smile. “I am just meditating, care to join me?”

Lou is sitting on the couch in front of his television with headphones on. He is watching Die Hard. On his lap Lou holds two open bags of salt and vinegar chips. There is a box of red wine beside him.

“You want some pedicure fish?” Lou is soaking his feet in a tub filled with small fish. The fish are eating the dead skin off his feet even though it tastes horrible.

“I’m okay thanks.” Brendan cannot take his eyes away from the feet and the fish. “This is not meditation.”

“Sure it is.” Lou answers. “I’m sitting quietly and breathing. What could be more meditative than that?”

“You’re watching television.” Brendan says.

“It’s Die Hard.” Lou replies. “ I watched this movie so many times I could quote it in my sleep. Seriously. What could be more relaxing than watching a New York cop take out a whole gang of Australian thugs? Watch this, he’s going to try on this guys shoes but they don’t fit do they? Poor bastards gotta kill all these pricks barefoot.”

“They aren’t Australian.” Brendan says.

“Who’s not?” Lou asks.

“The bad guys in Die Hard.” Brendan ignores a lot of Lou’s oddities, but this he cannot let go. “They aren’t even Austrian. They’re German I think, listen to their accents. It’s nowhere close to Australian.”

“Are you gonna join my meditation or are you just gonna stand there and harsh my buzz?” Lou asks.

“You cannot be searching inward for peace while watching Bruce Willis kill a mess of Germans. Real contemplative meditation is a chance for your mind, body, and spirit to join together in a common goal. It is a chance to exercise muscles in your mind that are so often ignored in the daily grind of our fabulous techno-rich lives. If you want to meditate with me for real, I would love to Lou, but this is not for me.”

Lou crams several large chips into his mouth. One escapes only to land in the foot fish tub. After munching on Lou’s jammy toe knuckles for over an hour the fish eagerly swarm the chip and devour it in seconds. Sensing the mood in the tub Lou tosses a handful of chips in.

“Well if you’re not here to relax then wha’d’ya want?” Lou pours more wine into his plastic cup.

“Just need to get a summer contact list from you Lou.” Brendan is certain he knows how this will end, but he must go through the motions regardless. “So we can reach you in the off season if we need you. I talked to Nathan, he said you were very abusive when you refused.”

“Who the fuck is Nathan?” Lou asks.

“Your receptionist.” Brendan says.

“Oh, Nancy.” Lou laughs. “Yeah he asked me for my phone number so I told him to go trawling for wang at the pier. So the little bitch told on me? I ought to fire him.”

“You aren’t allowed to fire anybody Lou.” Brendan says for the four hundred sixty-seven thousand two hundred and second time. “We just need to know where you will be for the off season.”

“Where the fuck do you think I’ll be?” Lou drains his cup and fills it with more wine. Picking a few chip crumbs off of his belly Lou stares straight into Brendan’s eyes. “I’m staying here for the summer.”

Brendan knows Lou is not playing around. He does not want to rattle the mans cage, still there are certain realities that need to be made clear.

“You know that most of the tower staff have the summer off?”

“D’uh” Lou says before eating more chips.

“That means no snake farm, no roller coaster, no haunted garden.”

“No haunted garden!” Lou interrupts. “that’s horse dicks. You don’t need staff for that, it’s just a garden.”

“It’s closed.” Brendan’s tone allows for no dissent.

“Horse cocks in the ass.” Lou mumbles.

“Brendan, there you are.” The voice of Mike Babcock booms across the palatial office. Mike approaches with a hearty grin. “I just wanted to find you real quick Brendan. Me and the coaches have a lot of work to do, but we can’t slip up now.” Mike holds out his hands and bows his head. Brendan takes the coaches hands in his own.

Lou does not tell the two men to get a room. Instead he pauses his movie and closes his eyes.

After a moment of silence the three speak in unison as if the words were a spell. And maybe words do hold the power to create.

“Dear God and Lord Stanley, thank you for bringing us together here in Toronto and please help Steven Stamkos find his way home. And fix his blood clot, too.”

“Well, I got to go” Mike says, but hesitates. “Are you watching Die Hard, Lou?”

“I sure am, fizzle nuts.” Lou answers. “Have a seat, I can get you a tub of pedicure fish if you like.”

“I really have a lot of work to do.” Mike does not turn away. “I do love this film though, and your not even half way through.”

“I’ll go back to the start. I can’t watch this movie too much.” Lou is thrilled at the prospect of company. “You need to relax a little Mike. The season is basically done. You did a great job. Take an afternoon off. Your assistants can handle the team can’t they.”

“You know why this film is so great?” Mike asks Brendan.

“Because Willis is hard as fuck!” Lou answers.

“Well sure.” Mike says. “But there’s more too it than that. What really turns Die Hard into a classic is that he’s barefoot. Every human being can relate to being barefoot at an unfortunate time, and what time could be more unfortunate than Christmas in Nakatomi tower. When John McClane needs to kick through the window with his poor tattered feet you can’t help but wince. It taps into our fundamental humanity and any film that can do that is a masterpiece in my view. It’s too bad about the sequels, but they aren’t all terrible.”

Lou decides to subtly bait the metaphorical hook. He pulls out a joint the size of a babies arm and fires it up.

“Don’t worry Brendo.” Lou says. “This is only my third joint today. You in?” Lou sends a little sweet marijuana vapour to brush past the coaches nose.

“What the hell.” Mike says, jumping into the seat next to Lou. “The season’s practically over anyway. Brendan would you mind letting the boys know I will be a little late, about a hundred and thirty-two minutes or so.”

“Really?” Brendan in genuinely shocked.

“Just leave already.” Lou says. “This guy just can’t appreciate art, I tell ya. He started talking to me right in the middle of a scene. You want some pedicure fish?”

“Of course I do.” Mike answers with a grin. “And some chips.” Mike takes one of Lou’s bags.

“Brendo, send Nancy in here on your way out, will ya!” Lou calls over his shoulder.

“Brendan!” Lou yells when the president doesn’t answer. “He’s a nice guy, but way too tense.” Lou says to Mike.

“You’re right, Lou. He should really try meditating.” Mike answers