Last October, not long after my father passed away, I travelled to Calgary for a one-day work conference with Two Small Men with Big Hearts.
It was my first time ever visiting Calgary and it was a welcome distraction from the grief I was trying to process.
Even though I was only in town for a day and didn't really get to visit too many Calgary neighbourhoods other than the downtown core, the trip would ultimately prove to be eventful and memorable for all the right reasons.
In all honesty, I didn't know much about the city going in. And there's still a lot that I don't know. Growing up in Montreal, Calgary seemed impossibly far away. As a kid, I was aware that Calgary had cowboys and oil. But more fundamentally, I equated Calgary with professional wrestling.
A bond through generations
As a kid, I was a fan of wrestling. As an adult, I became obsessed by all aspects of the culture. And now I was in the hometown of the greatest Canadian wrestler of all time, Bret "The Hitman" Hart. and the rest of the Hart family clan. Bret was iconic enough that he bridged generations of wrestling fans. When I got into wrestling in the mid '90s, my dad didn't recognize many of the performers of the time but he sure knew Bret. Even my own son, who isn't a huge wrestling fan himself, could likely point him out.
At all times, wrestling lives rent-free in mind. But on this trip to Calgary, it was taking up more space than usual.
My father was what I’d call a closeted wrestling fan. Like a lot of dads from his generation, he would never fully admit how much he enjoyed it. He’d act like he was only casually watching if wrestling happened to be on television, but somehow he always knew more names, rivalries, and storylines than you'd expect.
In addition to Bret, he was familiar with guys like Jim Neidhart and the British Bulldog, who were core members of the Hart family wrestling dynasty and who themselves cut their teeth in Calgary. They came out of the Stampede Wrestling promotion established by Stu Hart, the family’s patriarch. They represented toughness, technical skill, and old-school wrestling values. But for kids growing up in the late ’80s and ’90s like me, they also became huge stars during wrestling’s biggest boom period.
As insane as wrestling got during the "attitude era," my dad still let me and my kid sister watch the product and later would take us to live events and Pay-per-view screenings. When I met my wife years later, I managed to get her on board the wrestling train too. I even wrote about it for Vice. So when we had our son, it was obviously only a matter of time before we started bringing him to shows.
My dad absolutely adored his grandson and while it would have been great to see a wrestling show with both of them, I'm just thankful that they got to know each other and that their relationship brought me closer to my dad as an adult.
Calgary and the Hart Legacy
If you're going to talk about the Hart family and the Calgary wrestling scene, the Hart House can't be ignored. Located at 435 Patina Place SW in the Patterson Heights neighbourhood in southwest Calgary near Broadcast Hill, this relatively unassuming house is where Bret and his brothers and countless other wrestlers were taught the trade from their no-nonsense father, Stu. The training itself would happen in the basement, which was nicknamed "the dungeon" because of the screams of pain that could be heard coming from it when the grizzled Stu would "stretch" prospective talent down there.
Although it is now run down and isn't much to look at, the Hart House is something of a mecca for the serious wrestling fan. As I arrived in Calgary for my 36-hour stay, I had visions of visiting this hallowed location whenever I had a spare minute. However, due to time restrictions, meetings and it's distance outside of the main city centre, I was unable to make it to the Hart House. I was disappointed but I resigned myself to the commitment that I would go next time I was in town.
The whole experience really made me understand what people meant when they described Calgary as "sprawling." Taking a cab to the downtown hotel from the airport, I started to appreciate how big the downtown core itself was and wide-spread the surrounding neighbourhoods were. When it took a half hour jus to get to dinner on the first night, I knew I'd need more than a day and a half to properly appreciate this city.
While the geography of Calgary made me feel somewhat overwhelmed during my brief trip, I could only imagine how different it would be if I was moving to Calgary as many newcomers to Canada do every year. Because when you move to a new city, you don't really have the luxury of wandering around like a tourist. You need to get your new life set up and you need to get your bearings sooner than later.
Manifesting The Hitman
With several hours left before my flight back to Montreal, I checked Google Maps to see if there was nearby spot I could hang out at for a while. And that's when I made an interesting discovery. Only a few blocks from me was something called Hitman’s Bar, and it was apparently located inside Cowboys Casino. I couldn't resist.
Owned by Bret himself, the bar was home to a huge collection of memorabilia and historical artifacts from his personal collection. When I arrived, tt was late afternoon and I was mostly by myself in the bar.
“This place is amazing,” I said to the bartender.
She responded: “Do you want to know a secret?”
Yes. Desperately.
“Bret’s on his way right now.”
I audibly gasped. I couldn’t believe the happenstance. And then, 20 minutes later, The Hitman walked through the front door. As a lifelong wrestling fan, the moment already felt surreal. But in the wake of my father’s passing, it hit me in a way I didn’t expect.
I made a point of saying hi to him. It wasn’t a long conversation, but he was gracious and courteous. What struck me most about him was how grounded he seemed. Despite being one of the most famous wrestlers in history, he carried himself with a quiet humility and that felt unmistakably Canadian.
Bret was there to see friends of his and so I didn't try to press him for more of his time. Another fan took a photo of us together and soon after I left so I could make my way back to the airport. It had all happened so fast and it didn't feel real, if I'm being honest.
Moving Forward
If I was a more spiritual person, there's certain conclusions I may have drawn from the experience. After all, meeting Bret in that context felt more like divine intervention than it did a meaningless coincidence.
I went to Calgary on business for Two Small Men with Big Hearts Moving, which helps people and families every day who are in the middle of a major life transition. Losing my dad, meanwhile, felt like a pretty big life transition in and of itself. The parallel wasn't lost on me.
And while I was there, I met who I'd consider to be the single most iconic Calgarian alive today. It was a celebrity encounter that would have resonated even with my dad, who was famously hard to impress. It's a story I would have loved to tell him.
The trip didn't make my grief magically disappear but instead made it more manageable. I was reminded of good memories of my dad and filled with a sense of optimism for what the future might have in store. Similarly, Two Small Men can't simply eliminate the stress of moving entirely, but it can help you manage it and make the experience infinitely more tolerable. It's peace of mind that everyone deserves.
