Reichelt will miss the locker-room
Retiring Lions trainer made many friends during his five decades with CFL team
Our story begins with Bill Reichelt contemplating three job offers. The first, with the WHA’s Edmonton Oilers, ticked a lot of boxes for the aspiring trainer. He’d been a hockey player and his hometown team had just moved into the gleaming new Northlands Coliseum. They also had this new coach, Glen Sather, who seemed to know what he was doing.
Then there was the Edmonton Eskimos, where he’d already worked for a year. The Esks had won the Grey Cup in 1975, beating an Alouettes team that featured a Canadian linebacker named Wally Buono.
So there was that to consider.
The third job offer came from the B.C. Lions and their new coach, Vic Rapp. True, it wasn’t home, but Reichelt had a thing about the West Coast and here was the kicker: All three positions came with an annual salary of $12,000, but the Leos were offering a new Chevy Chevette as part of his pay package.
That was 41 years ago and Reichelt still cracks up at the memory.
“That clinched it,” he says. “I mean, 12 grand and a car. What could be better?”
This day, the 68-year-old Reichelt is sitting in his cramped office, reminiscing about his wondrous journey with the Lions that’s finally ending after five decades. During his time he’s variously been called the team’s trainer, athletic therapist and director of medical services. But whatever his job title has been, it’s never adequately captured the totality of his contribution to the franchise.
“There are things he knows that no one will ever know,” says Lions head coach Buono, another franchise legend who is retiring after this year. “He’s the glue that keeps everything together.”
Just ask Geroy Simon. In his playing days, Reichelt says the great receiver was never in the training room because he was never injured. But, over time, they became close friends and helped each other endure personal tragedies: the death of Reichelt’s son Dylan the week of the 2011 Grey Cup, and the death of Simon’s wife Tracy.
“Ah man, Billy’s the best,” said Simon. “After a certain point in time, he just became a friend. I mean, honestly, teams have directors of player development and sports psyches and human performance specialists, and all these guys. Before they came about, that’s what Billy did.”
Well, that and so much more.
Looking back over his career, it’s hard to process everything he’s seen and done; all the people he’s touched and who have touched him.
His first year with the Lions was Lui Passaglia’s second year with the team. Jerry Tagge was the quarterback that year. Jim Young was still the star receiver.
Soon after his arrival in Vancouver, Reichelt developed a close relationship with Canucks trainer Larry Ashley, and the men would explore the newest trends in their rapidly changing industry.
“We were always trying to stay ahead of everything and we’d work the GMs,” Reichelt says. “I’d go to (Lions general manager) Bobby (Ackles) and say we need this Cybex unit because we have to do diagnostic testing. We ended up getting the machine, but Bobby wasn’t always happy about it.”
About the same time, Billy began to notice a young woman working in the Lions’ office. Ackles, who didn’t miss much, noticed the same thing and offered the following advice: “Billy, you can’t fish off the company dock.”
Bill and Cathy Reichelt are still married and have had three children.
“We basically eloped,” he says.
In the spring of 1994 Reichelt received a call from Ashley. He was experiencing some health problems and asked Reichelt if he could fill in for him with the Canucks. The what was the eve of Game 7 of the opening-round series against the Flames. They won that game on Pavel Bure’s overtime goal, then made it to Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final with Reichelt in tow. The trainer then returned to the Lions, who promptly won the Grey Cup that fall.
“It was pretty crazy there for a while,” he says.
The following year, the source of Ashley’s health issue
became known. He had cancer and was dying. Reichelt was at his friend’s house along with some of the old Canucks when, in a private moment, Ashley asked Reichelt to take over the Canucks’ job for him. He was gone soon thereafter.
“That was tough,” Reichelt said. “But I had a young family and the Canucks represented too much travel.”
But he always had the Lions. Reichelt acknowledges he could have made more money in another posting, but no one can put a price on the relationships he’s built, the memories he’s collected, the laughs he’s had. He and Lions equipment manager Kato Kasuya were basically a two-man team for decades before both their departments were expanded to four people.
“I’ve told my wife many times I see a lot more of (Kato) than I do you. It’s every day. He was like my own kid there for a time. We’ve been together a lot of years,” Reichelt said.
And now those years are coming to an end. He thinks of the characters who have touched his life: Hall of famers and ham and eggers; storied figures like Passaglia, Doug Flutie and Buono, and work-a-day men who gave more to the game than the game ever gave in return.
Reichelt mentions the 1996 team coached by Joe Paopao that went bankrupt and had to be saved from insolvency by David Braley.
“That was one of the my favourite years,” he says. He continues. “When you talk to the old players, they don’t miss the games or the practices. They miss the locker-room and the training room. That’s the way it will be for me. That’s what it’s all about.”
The new Chevette? That was just a bonus.