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  January 20, 2001



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Hey dad, Tie him up


By BRET HART -- Calgary Sun

 Tie Domi called to let me know he'd read in a Toronto newspaper how my son Blade responded to a reporter when asked: "Who's tougher: Your dad or Tie Domi?"

My 10-year-old replied: "My dad could kick Tie Domi's butt!"

Geez, Blade, I didn't know you were doing interviews yet.

Could ya maybe have dad challenge someone not quite so ... I mean ...Tie Domi?

If I'd have known my boy was going to promote the big fight, I wouldn't have been so quick to give Tie wrestling lessons.

Yeah, a couple of weeks ago, I was in Tie's living room showing him how to apply a sleeper. Next thing you know, he and his brother are trying it out on each other and I'm thinking: "Uh-oh, I've created a monster that nobody will ever want to mess with -- a wrestling hockey player!"

So, if you hear about Tie Domi putting Bob Probert to sleep ...

Blade and I showed up at the Hitmen game last Sunday just as the third period was starting. I'd had a few buddies over for football and Blade had hockey in the afternoon, so it was an all-sports day.

The Hitmen were trailing Red Deer 3-1 and the regulars who usually sit in the same section I do were quick to admonish me for my tardiness because I hadn't been sitting in my lucky seat. "It's about time you got here," they quipped.

"Hurry, sit down!"

I did ... and the team made one of its illustrious comebacks for the win.

You can go ahead and call it a dumb superstition if you want to, but before you dismiss my lucky seat theory, just ask anyone who sits near me.

I have eight season tickets. Eventually, I started to notice that whenever I sit in this one seat, the team almost always wins. The proof is in the pudding because when I had to miss one playoff game with Kootenay last season -- because I had to do an appearance for WCW -- they lost.

Well, I suppose last Sunday's win over Red Deer could have something to do with how good this year's team is, too. Even without any trades, they're doing great.

As far as I'm concerned, the Hitmen still give you the best bang for your buck of any entertainment in the city.

On another topic, a funny thing happened at the gym the other day.

I usually go to the gym with Puff Daddy Coombs. No, not the rapper -- my dog.

That's what I get for letting my son, Dallas, name my pug.

You may have seen me driving around town with Coombs -- my fifth kid. The family resemblance is unmistakable.

So, this trainer at the gym has two boys and she asked me to sign a picture of myself for the older one.

The younger boy was playing with Coombs. They leave the gym and she calls back from her car a few minutes later, saying she hadn't realized that her younger boy wanted a picture, too.

I signed a publicity photo for him and left it at the gym for her to pick up.

When she did, her younger boy was disappointed with it.

"Nah, this isn't what I wanted," he moped. "I wanted a picture of his dog!"

Thanks, kid.

I've only recently retired and already Coombs steals the spotlight with his big, barrelled chest and rugged good looks.

I'm not the only one in my family who has retired. I'd like to extend congratulations to my brother-in-law, BJ Annis, on his distinguished career as a firefighter.

When BJ first joined the department, he broke all kinds of fireman strength and endurance records that have yet to be surpassed. And now he'll spend even more time at his gym!

I'm sure my sister Georgia is proud of BJ's honourable career, as we all are.

My personal thumbs down of the week goes to Bill Maher for remarking that mentally challenged people have the mentality of the family dog.

I suggest to Mr. Maher that he should spend some time at the Special Olympics and get a lesson in what dignity is all about.

On that note, I'll end for this week.

I'm late for my computer lesson.

For those of you who think you've gotten e-mails from me online over the years, sorry to disappoint you but it's all been a bunch of phonies pretending to be me. I do read and appreciate the e-mails to HITMANclub@aol.com, but as far as being a computer wiz, a few days ago I learned how to work the power switch.

Maybe for next week's column I'll make the quantum leap from writing these articles on yellow pads to using my ... er ... word processor ... and leave the typos for you to figure out.

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