The phone calls come on the good days, after a sister does her best to make sure her father can understand his son.
Dad has Parkinson's and the dementia that sometimes accompanies it. The good days are becoming harder to find. Family and staff members at the assisted living center in Sarnia, Ontario, try to keep the 86-year-old hockey Hall of Famer up to date on the St. Louis Blues. Sometimes it's hard to tell what sinks in. When the clouds part, the son calls. The sister holds the phone. Dad listens.
Neil Armstrong's 22-year career as a respected NHL linesman secured him a place in hockey's hall along with one heck of a nickname: Iron Man. His career workload reached an impressive 1,744 games. Then he switched his stripes for scouting and worked 25 years for the Montreal Canadiens. On top of that, he was a golf pro at the Sarnia Golf and Curling Club. You know, during his down time.
Neil's son is Blues president of hockey operations and general manager Doug Armstrong.
Doug isn't sure this is much of a story.
The finalist for NHL general manager of the year has been right often this season, but he's wrong about that one.
It's a tough story, because there are times when Neil's mind slips and strays, creating consequences that, while innocent, sting.
But it's an important story, because the work ethic that drives the executive who steers the Blues was passed down from father to son.
Doug is preparing to watch his team in its first Stanley Cup Final since 1970, which just so happened to be a series between Boston and St. Louis that included games officiated by, you guessed it, Neil.
Forty-nine years after Neil shared the ice with Bobby Orr, Doug is hoping the team he built takes the rematch. He's also hoping his dad can grasp this moment, hoping game days are good days.
"I know he's paying attention as much as possible," Doug said. "I know they have the games tuned in there. He goes in and out. I'm sure he's enjoying it."
Some of Doug's earliest hockey memories were formed on a track. He would tag along during his dad's intense offseason training sessions. Neil took pride in keeping up with the players on the ice. He might have been in better shape than a few. He definitely ran more than some.
Neil's reputation as a respected official and dogged scout was once the best, and only, line on Doug's resume.
That's changed.
Doug's drive to do right by his dad has not.
"I would hope I had a quarter of his work ethic," Doug said. "My biggest fear was tarnishing his name."
Doug's first real hockey job was with the Minnesota North Stars in the early 1990s. Bobby Clarke added him to a skeleton crew that was attempting to rebound from a league expansion period that pilfered players and executives. The experience was as valuable as the paycheck was light. Doug coordinated travel plans for the team, helped coaches scout and kept stats during games. He heard stories about his dad, how hard he worked. Neil, the official, earned the respect of players and coaches by being invisible on the ice. He owned every rare missed or mistaken call. Neil, the scout, would be the first one at the rink. He would even chat up the Zamboni drivers to get their input on players. Doug tried to work like Neil, never forgetting the words his boss told him on day one.
"Your dad got you the job," Clarke said to Doug when he was hired. "But he won't keep it for you."
Three decades of hard work turned an entry-level legacy hire into a respected hockey executive who has spent 15 years as a general manager between Dallas and St. Louis.
Doug was the first Blues GM to be named GM of the year (2012), and he has become synonymous with robust winning percentages, contention for the division title and an annual presence in the postseason.
Since he was officially promoted to Blues GM entering the 2010-11 season, his team ranks fourth in regular-season win percentage (.621) and has made the playoffs seven of nine times.
A family legacy continues. Doug's son, Blake, is currently balancing law school with scouting for the Vegas Golden Knights.
There is one missing piece. The elusive Stanley Cup has dodged Doug since the Stars won it when he was an assistant GM in 1999. Capturing it then was something, sure. It would not, could not, compare to ending the Blues' curse.
After the Blues beat San Jose in the Western Conference Finals, Doug stood in an Enterprise Center hallway and explained what it has been like to push the boulder up the hill. He used to be angered by the "Same Old Blues" narrative he inherited unfairly upon his arrival from Dallas. Over time, he realized his wounds were scabs compared to his emotionally scarred fans. He was asked if simply returning to the series that awards the Stanley Cup should be considered a big breakthrough. He shook his head.
"I can tell you the Stanley Cup champions. I'm not sure I can go through who they played," he answered. "I mean, you want to win. I know we haven't been here in a long time. But it's certainly not the ultimate goal, to get here and be satisfied."
Perhaps the most beautiful thing about the Stanley Cup is that it travels. Its parade lasts a year. Those who win it take it where they please, like to an assisted living center in Sarnia on one of Dad's good days.
"That would certainly be in the plans," Doug said. "It would be great to share another good memory with him."
