Peter Dyakowski
CFL.ca
It was with maelstroms of emotion swirling inside all of us on the Black and Gold squad that we met the news of Sandy Beveridge’s departure from the team earlier this week.
He is already missed. His empty locker is a site of mourning. A makeshift memorial of flowers, candles, Journey CDs, and poker chips has sprung up in front of his former spot on Canadian Row in the locker room.
Things will never be the same. An age has come to an end. Some people just come and go, but others leave a gaping void when they leave. Sandy was one of the latter.
Sure, we have a capable replacement for him on the field in my room-dawg, Dylan Barker, but the empty place left in our hearts may never be filled. His laugh; his bright eyes; his “jokes” which, had anybody else said them, would have been really, really hurtful; his astonishingly hairy arms: our days will forevermore be darker without them.
The longest-serving Ticat until his retirement this past Monday, “Frosty” is fondly remembered by nearly all of his recent and even not-so-recent teammates.
When asked, former Tabbies long-snapper extraordinaire, Robi Robichaud, wistfully recalled Sandy’s room-filling voice saying, “When he first joined the team, he was way too loud. Over the years, we came to accept that it was just the way he was.”
Sandy’s laugh, which I mentioned earlier, was also a favourite of Robi’s.
Current Ticat, Ray Mariuz, counts that hearty explosion of joy among his dearest recollections, going so far as to say it is a shame that I lack the literary skill to properly describe it and that it is also too bad I can’t include an audio clip of it here on my blog.
Sandy was truly a unique teammate. From his traditional pre-kickoff beer to his lack of any sort of vocal filter, you couldn’t find anyone quite like him.
No matter what, rain or shine, he was always cheerful, even after he lost $500 to Kojo on one train trip (a favourite story of Olympian Jesse Lumsden). The fact that he has retired after eight years has taken many by surprise. Our own team sent him a round-trip plane ticket for his first training camp.
Mixed deep within all the sadness, however, is a glimmer of hope, a sliver of joy.
For Sandy, in closing this chapter of his life, has started writing a new one. Our team’s loss is another team’s gain. He will continue to serve our fair city as a Firefighter. The City of Hamilton’s Fire Department has made a tremendous acquisition in stealing this stud away from us. I know that Sandy will serve the Department just as faithfully as he did the Tiger-Cats.
I only hope that they can stock enough calendars this year to cope with what will be record demand.
