Reflections on Ron Lancaster & Ron Lancaster
I miss the two Ronnies. That is the overwhelming sentiment as I look ahead to Tuesday — when it will be 10 years since Saskatchewan Roughriders icon Ron Lancaster passed away. Mom woke me up with the news, which she had heard on the radio early in the morning. It was the one vocational day in 30-plus years at the Regina Leader-post when my eyes were watery from beginning to end. Before I could even leave for the office, the phone started ringing. But one call, above all others, stands out. Early in the afternoon, I called Ron Lancaster Jr., to express my condolences. I left a voicemail message and, considering the circumstances, I never, ever expected him to call back anytime soon. The phone rang five minutes later. “Hi Rob,” the caller said. “It’s Ron Lancaster.” Considering the similarity in the voices of father and son, it took a few seconds to process who was calling. Then we chatted for 20 minutes, only a few hours after his father had died. Ron Jr. (or R.D., as he was often called to avoid any confusion) told me some stories and, even on that dreadful day, we caught up with each others’ lives. We first crossed paths at Campbell Collegiate, from which I had graduated in 1982. R.D. was a member of the Class of ’81 — and of the Campbell Tartans, having quarterbacked that team ... naturally. We next chatted in 1996, when the senior Lancaster was preparing to coach the Edmonton Eskimos in the Grey Cup game. His offensive co-ordinator: Ron Jr. A Ronnie-ronnie column was an irresistible angle for this scribbler, so I sat down next to R.D. and scribbled furiously as he spun some classic tales. The best one pertained to the 1976 Grey Cup game, in which Saskatchewan lost 23-20 to the Ottawa Rough Riders in Toronto. The three Lancaster children — Lana, Ron and Bob — were back in Regina at their Emerald Park Road homestead, watching on TV as their father made what turned out to be his final Grey Cup appearance as a player. “A guy had called after the first quarter when the Riders were trailing 10-0,’’ recalled Ron Jr., whose family’s number was listed in the Regina telephone directory. “The guy said, ‘Your dad is a terrible football player.’ Suddenly, the offence got going in the second quarter and the guy phoned back and said, ‘I take back what I said.’ Then it was back to the potato chips and onion dip.” Once the formalities were over, I put down the notepad and we just chatted. Shooting the breeze with either Ron Lancaster was always a treat. They loved talking football, telling stories and simply holding court. Even on Sept. 18, 2008, as devastated as he was by his father’s sudden passing, Ron Jr. shared a few one-liners. Fast forward to December of that year. It had been a stressful few months, so I decided to get away to Toronto for a few days for the purpose of vegetating. Before leaving, I contacted Ron Jr., who lived in the Hamilton area, and we made plans to get together. After spending an afternoon at the Canadian Football Hall of Fame in Hamilton, I caught a cab to nearby Ancaster and met Ron for dinner at Kelsey’s. There we sat, for three-plus hours, yakking about old times and laughing endlessly. It was a wonderful visit. So imagine the shock just 4 1/2 years later, when the news circulated that Ron had been found dead in his Hamilton apartment. He was only 50 years old. Thankfully, enough time has passed since then that it is possible to focus on the good times without allowing sadness to take over. I reflect on time spent with the Ron Lancasters and recall so many funny lines — and, of course, the good fortune of having been able to watch No. 23 play for the Roughriders. Anyone of my vintage grew up worshipping the tandem of Lancaster and George Reed. Ronnie and George ... George and Ronnie ... you couldn’t mention one without the other. For me, it’s the same with Ronnie and Ronnie. The elder Ron Lancaster used to conclude every email with “always available.” As for the junior version, I will never forget one of the last things he told me: “We will always be friends.” Those are words that I treasure to this day, along with so many priceless memories of father and son.