Trevor Ettinger: One Man’s Perspective

 by Jeff Parzych

I personally would have been just fine having never been through one of those experiences or moments. You know the type. They always revolve around bad news and after becoming aware of them, where you were at that exact time becomes burned into your brain.

I experienced my first just this past week. It was around six in the morning on Sunday and I was making one last check of my e-mail and any news on the net before departing for a few days of rest and relaxation with my wife and two sons.

After deleting the abundance of useless messages that appear in my e-mail every six hours or so, I decided to do some quick surfing. The first site I ventured to was one of my normal stops and I headed for the message boards totally oblivious to what I was about to be faced with.

I clicked on to what I believed was a rather harmless thread labeled “sad news” and within seconds my heart just sank. There it was, a post reporting, which was unconfirmed at the time, that Crunch forward Trevor Ettinger was dead.

What I felt next I really can’t describe. Believe me, I am totally aware that I am just a concerned party in this situation and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Trevor’s family must have been going through, but it was still an incredible shock.

In my two years of covering the Crunch, Trevor, if you had to classify them, would have to be considered one of my favorites. Right from the start I could not help but notice just how engaging this young man was. He always wore a smile, was extremely courteous and just down right interesting.

In the brief time he spent in Syracuse, which was around a season, Trevor enlightened me so much on the inner-workings of being an enforcer. I could have literally spent hours listening to him regale me with his stories and he did it so matter of factly that it was just amazing.

So there I was, numb, with the prospects of driving my six-year old and my two-year old, along with my wife (thank god), five hours to a water park in Pennsylvania. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to relive, in my mind, the times that I spent with that special young man. Hundreds of miles and numerous threats to the occupants in the backseat later, what I found out was that in my first conversation with Trevor, I learned a great deal about him.

It was back on the 29th of November and Trevor was just recalled from Dayton of the East Coast League for a game against the Binghamton Senators. I wanted to speak with him for a small piece I was doing about the dichotomy that existed when someone who occupies a position like Trevor in professional hockey receives a promotion to the next level. On the one hand he has to be pleased that he just climbed another rung on the hockey ladder, but waiting for him at the next stop was his next challenge, or should I say combatant.

For Trevor on this night that combatant would be the AHL’s All-Time leader in penalty minutes, Dennis Bonvie. All-Time leader or not, Trevor would not shy away from anyone because he was fully aware of the reason why he had been summoned from Dayton.

“I know exactly why I am here,” he stated, “and I am ready to answer the bell no matter who I have to face.”

As I questioned him further on his exact reason for being there his response was one that I would grow quite familiar with over the course of the next few months. Many times he uttered these three words, words that fully explained what type of teammate Trevor was.

“For the boys,” he explained. “I am here for the boys, to open up the ice for them and to look after them.” It was no doubt a task he took very seriously and to may amazement, seemed to enjoy, a fact which he constantly reminded me of.

“I have a lot of fun doing it too, I’ll tell you,” he would say with that ever-present big smile on his face. Picturing him now and I just know he was speaking the truth. He just had this gleam in his eyes when he spoke those words.

His level of disappointment after that game was also testament to his love for his craft because on this evening he could not entice the elder statesman Bonvie to dance. “I lined up beside Dennis tonight and asked him for a shot and I don’t remember what he said, but it wasn’t yes,” stated Ettinger. “It’s just tough because it’s my first game up and I want to get into the swing of things and hopefully be chucking the mitts a lot.”

He also lamented the fact that another usually willing partner was scratched from that evening’s festivities, robbing him off another opportunity to display his wares to his new mates. “It’s too bad Grattsie didn’t dress tonight,” meaning Binghamton forward Brain McGrattan. “That would have been fun to go with him too.”

His explanation of how he actually asked Bonvie for the opportunity was also very telling. He, politely as he could under the circumstances, just asked for the opportunity. No cheap shots, showboating or taunting because he was all about respect. He fully respected the code that enforcers live by and wanted nothing more from his opponents than exactly that.

One other thing I recalled about that evening was the handshake I received as I greeted him. Now don’t get me wrong, Trevor always extended his hand as I approached him. It was just this time he didn’t preface the gesture with an “easy on the hands, they are a little sore.” Since he failed to find a willing partner on that evening, the scabs that perpetually plagued his hands were still in tact and the soreness surprisingly absent.

Throughout the course of the season he would not be so lucky in that department, but his words along with his actions just reiterated the sentiments he relayed to me on that initial evening back in November.

Were there other things that will stick in mind about Trevor? You bet. They are almost too numerous to mention, but I will give it a shot. His memorable bouts with Rochester enforcer Sean McMorrow. Laughing with him after the game on how his first AHL goal was a deflection off his backside past net minder Rob Tallas. Constantly singing his praises to the beat writer of the local paper as we drove to various away games and lastly, just Trevor being Trevor.

In closing, I would just like to think, for selfish reasons I presume, that the demons that Trevor encountered manifested themselves only recently. I just want to believe that the Trevor that I spoke with, a person who I truly believe was destined for great things, was as genuinely happy as he appeared and that he was totally content with, at that time, the hand the lord had dealt him.

Right now, however, I realize that my wishes mean so very little and there is only one thing that matters. That Trevor Ettinger, a man who during his brief stay in my tiny section of the world met all comers head on and skated away unscathed, just lost the biggest (as Trevor would like to say) “scrap” of his life and his beloved boys, for once I will include myself in that bunch, will never be the same again. Rest in peace Trevor. You will be sorely missed.