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The Two Sides Of Bobby Gassoff

Bobby Gassoff did not attend the Frozen Four here last week. He had a business conflict out of town. Way out of town. The son of legendary Blues player Bob Gassoff, "Little Gasser" said in a state-side phone interview on the eve of the tournament: "I hope it's a good tournament and the kids get a lot out of it."

He certainly did. He played in two Frozen Fours with the University of Michigan, helping win the 1998 title, and until four years ago hockey had been his life. His father, the original "Gasser," was a 5-foot-10, 190-pound defenseman for the Blues. He was one of hockey's legendary tough guys when he died in a motorcycle accident at age 24.

Bobby Gassoff was a 5-10, 191-pound defenseman and former Blues stickboy. He never met his dad — his mom, Diana, was almost ready to deliver him when the tragedy struck. But he inherited his dad's toughness and took it beyond the ice. Gassoff, now 29, is a lieutenant j.g. (junior grade) in the SEALs, the Navy's elite commando unit.

The business conflict is a trip to the Middle East. No details, please. Comparisons of sports to warfare are usually trite. In this case, they best explain why Gassoff quit his lifelong dream and left a happy life of affluence. It goes back to his first Frozen Four. He was one of nine freshmen on Michigan's title-winning team, and he learned a lesson: "The best talent doesn't win. The best team wins."

Gassoff has found an even stronger bond in the SEALs. "You're still a team," he said, "but it's more of an ultimate challenge. You're putting your best foot forward. You've got the back of the guy in front of you, and the guy behind you has your back. But there's no consolation round. There's no prize for second place. If you have an off night, you're not minus-2. You're coming home in a box."

He does not say that flippantly. His best friend through SEAL basic training was Marc Lee from Hood River, Ore. "We were 'swim buddies' start to finish," Gassoff said. "Then he was the first SEAL killed in Iraq." On Sept. 11, Gassoff was in camp with the top Blues farm team in Worcester, Mass. He said he'll never forget walking to the rink and discovering practice was canceled. "I realized there's so much more going on in the world," he said. "It was so difficult for me to sit on the sidelines. I had friends deploying to Iraq. I wanted to be more than just a hockey player, just like there'll be a day when I'm more than just a SEAL."

He played that full season, briefly with Worcester and mostly with Peoria, a rung lower in the Blues system. His size made him a longshot NHL prospect. True to his bloodlines, Gassoff rarely scored but readily stood up for his teammates. That's hockey talk for fighting. "I was never a superstar," he said. "But I always did what I had to do to get to the next level. New guys would want to test me. But I played like my dad. If they wanted to test me, let's go."

That selfless, fearless quality endeared his dad to the Blues. The team made his No. 3 the first jersey to be retired. And it endeared Bobby Gassoff to his teammates, from youth hockey on to the pros. When he enlisted in 2003, his friends were not shocked. But they remain in awe. "He's the toughest SOB I've ever met," Blues defenseman Barret Jackman said. "He's a very modest guy."

So modest that during an interview with a reporter, he never mentioned a recent tribute from Chris Pronger, the ex-Blues captain now with Anaheim. Pronger invited Gassoff, then stationed in California, to a Ducks home game. "Bob said Chris had them show him on the JumboTron," said Diana, his mom. "They interviewed Chris on the bench, and he said, 'This is a great friend of mine, and he's going to war.'"

Diana raised her son with her second husband, Steve Lohr, who co-owns the Anheuser-Busch distributorship in St. Louis. "He's the best dad anyone could ever have," said Gassoff, never using the term step-dad. At the same time, he honors his namesake dad. "I know I had a lot to live up to," Gassoff said. "I'm glad I had that situation, having that immediate connection with my father, since I never met him."

Diana, who cried when her only child left home to play junior hockey in Iowa, accepts his decision to volunteer in wartime. "He told me, 'Mom, isn't there payback? Somebody's got to pay for all this stuff we've got. Don't we owe our country for everything?' And most of the guys on his team think the same way," she said. "They're a deep-thinking group with gigantic hearts. These guys count on each other for their life's survival. "He told me, 'Mom, this is the ultimate team.' And it just gave me goosebumps."

The danger Gassoff faces concerns his tough-guy friends. "It's always in the back of your mind," Jackman said. "But when we were at Worcester, he'd go after the biggest guy every game, no matter if the guy was 7 feet tall. You always worry when he goes in there, and he always comes out with a smile on his face. "And now he's got his own team over there, almost like a brotherhood. He's proud of them and proud of what he's accomplished and proud to serve his country."

Brett Hull, who recently had his No. 16 raised alongside No. 3, is confident that the stick boy he once knew can take care of himself and his men. To the point that worries about Little Gasser's current shift are almost misdirected. "All I know," said Hull, "is there's going to be a lot more enemy casualties over there."

Tom Wheatley. As a Navy SEAL, Bobby Gassoff applies the lessons he learned in hockey. ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH. Monday, May. 14 2007.

Bob Gassoff

St. Louis retired Gassoff's No. 3 less than five months after his death on Oct. 1, 1977, making him the first player in franchise history to have his number retired. The Blues also dedicated their 1977-78 season to his memory. Gassoff was killed in a motorcycle accident on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend in 1977.

He and his pregnant wife, Diane, had been invited to a postseason barbecue at teammate Garry Unger's 200-acre farm near Gray Summit, Mo. At roughly 6 p.m., Gassoff joined several others in riding motorcycles around Unger's property. Unger would later say he remembered wondering if it was a good idea for Gassoff to ride the motorcycle because he had been drinking and didn't have any riding experience.

Gassoff drove out of Unger's property on a gravel road that merged into to a winding road leading up a hill to Villa Ridge, Mo. Gassoff wasn't wearing a helmet and had no license plate on his motorcycle, so he decided to take a short run up the hill and come right back. On his way back down the hill, he collided head-on with a car driven by a man named Douglas Klekamp.

The crash killed Gassoff, although Klekamp walked away uninjured. In October 1977, Gassoff's widow filed a $3 million lawsuit against Unger, his wife, and Klekamp, whom the suit alleged was one of Unger's employees running an errand for the Ungers. Unger describes Gassoff's death as one of the most devastating moments of his life, and it played a major role in Unger's decision to embrace Christian fundamentalism.

In 1977, the CHL created a new award and named it the Bob Gassoff Trophy in his memory. The trophy, which honored the league's most improved defenseman, was presented to the league by the St. Louis Blues organization. He was the older brother of former minor leaguer Ken Gassoff and former NHL player Brad Gassoff. ... Father of former college player and minor-leaguer Bob Gassoff Jr., born two months after Gassoff's death.

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