“I went to the Hall of Fame with my dad. I can’t say I really remember too much about it.”

Even the superstars need to be coached once in awhile.

I can’t be a hypocrite as a coach because as a player that’s what I wanted. I wanted feedback, I wanted communication from the boss.

I grew up trying to play for the Toronto Maple Leafs, not Team Canada. Didn’t even know it existed.

I was a punk. I think that’s why I’m such a good person now, because I was such a bad guy then.

I was 19 years old, pumping gas and going nowhere.

You eat and sleep it all day long and play on the streets until mom calls you in.

Assistant coaches become a little bit more buddies to the players than a head coach.

Growing up as a kid my father was British and a soccer player.

I showed up for work, you can yell at me if you want, but I want input. So that’s the kind of coach I want to be.

I was kind of a high school dropout at that point because I had left school to play hockey, but no one drafted me.

Our family thought if you could be unselfish your teammates would always like you.

His idol was a guy that passed the ball a lot, Stanley Matthews.

My story is no different than anybody else’s.

He described how, as a boy of 14, his dad had been down the mining pit, his uncle had been down the pit, his brother had been down the pit, and of course he would go down the pit.

(Man, I wish life had emoticons, you know? So that when your dad pisses you off you could like click a mental button or something and just show him one of those rolleyes. That would rock) Anyway.

I had Halloween parties every year, as it was my birthday five days before. My parents would actually put prosthetic noses on, and my dad would wear a top-hat and tails, put on a fake curly moustache, and hold a pipe.

I think my dad is the only Arabic descendent who is an unsuccessful businessman.

I was a momma’s boy. I didn’t get anything from Dad, except my body and baseball knowledge. The only time I spent with him was at the ballpark.

I adore my dad. He’s a 78-year-old man and my inspiration.

My dad still collects newspaper clippings about me.

My dad was not super-intentional in his parenting. He was very self-absorbed. I won’t say mean or selfish per se, but very self-absorbed. I think he was just thinking out loud.