FEATURE: Remembering Dr. Barry Gerson Fisher

Dr. Barry Gerson Fisher owned three Stanley Cup rings -- 1995, 2000, 2003 --courtesy of then Devils boss Lou Lamoriello.

"I was very proud of them," the good doctor -- and my personal friend -- once told me, "because I felt I was part of the team."

Lamoriello, who worked closely with Dr. Fisher throughout Lou's stewardship with the Devils was visibly moved by his colleague's passing.

"Not only was Barry a great doctor," Lamoriello explained, "but a better person. I'll always be proud to call him my friend first and doctor second."

Without Dr. Fisher, who died at 69 on April 17th, it's doubtful that the Devils could have taken any of those championships. After all, it was Barry, lead team physician for 33 years, who patched the wounded and got them back in action.

"I remember Ken Daneyko suffered a knee injury early in the 1999-2000 season," said Devils radio voice Matt Loughlin. "Kenny still played in most games as Barry pushed rehab over surgery.

"It worked out well all around, Dano recovered and the Devils went on to win their second Stanley Cup."

Whether it was Martin Brodeur, Scott Stevens or the stickboy who needed medical attention, always Barry was there with stitches or whatever else might be necessary.

"It was Fisher who kept players like Ken Daneyko and John MacLean on the ice after serious injuries," wrote Newark Star-Ledger Devils beat writer Rich Chere in August 2015 when Barry left the team's employ.

"The doctor performed career-saving surgeries and took the lead on almost all of the team's injury issues over three decades."

A graduate of the University of Cincinnati who earned his m.d. degree from the University of Chicago, Dr. Fisher became renowned as an orthopedist, handling such teams as the New York Islanders and Brooklyn Nets, among others.

"But I always considered the Devils 'my' team," Barry told me years ago at a summer Hockey Week at the Concord Hotel in the Catskills. "After all, we both broke into the NHL at the same time."

When in 1982 Dr. John McMullen moved the franchise from Denver, Colorado to East Rutherford, New Jersey, he hired Fisher and Dr. Richard Comentucci as his team physicians.

"Barry was more than just a team doctor," Dr. McMullen once said, "he was like family."

Sure enough, on any game night the hulking figure with the piercing eyes and warm smile could be found in the press room gabbing with his media pals and fellow medics.

"He was one of the friendliest guys in the Jersey hockey crowd," said former NHL goalie Glenn (Chico) Resch and now the team's radio analyst. "Barry loved a good 'schmooze.'"

He also loved a good card game. During that 1986 hockey week, Barry and his dad were enjoying a good poker game as much as they loved mingling with hockey legends Mario Lemieux and Larry Robinson on the golf course.

Orthopedics were Barry's specialty but friendship was his forte. Fellow physicians such as Dr. Bernadette Pupilla said "Barry knew knees like no other doctor."

But Dr. Pupilla, like so many others, adored his upbeat personality as well as his comforting manner of handling patients.

"Barry was a funny, wonderful man," she added. "He had a great laugh and sense of humor. There will be no other like him."

The Maven can vouch for that. I became pals with Dr. Fisher when I began broadcasting Devils games in the mid-1980s for SportsChannel and later through my seasons with MSG Networks.

Along with myself, my Matt and the Maven buddy, Sir Loughlin always enjoyed the good doc's company.

Loughlin: "Barry was a 'people person.' He loved jokes; he loved music and he loved the Devils. As accomplished as he was, he made time for everyone. That's the true measure of the man."

As far as I was concerned, no game should start until Barry and I convened. Either The Doc would invite me into his medical room for a joke or I would invite myself to trade laughs with him.

I should add that after I suffered an accident, skiing at Hunter Mountain, I went straight to Fisher's Great Neck office. As he had done with some patients, he discouraged surgery and set me on the road to recovery without a cut.

Many who knew and loved Barry referred to him with the Yiddish expression, "Mensch." (Translated: An upright, honorable, decent person.) The doc's pal, Edward Levine, put it this way after attending the funeral service:

"Forget the amazing surgeon Barry was. He was the kindest, warmest, caring, empathetic person I've ever met. And the most humble, modest, self-deprecating doctor I've ever met. A total 'mensch.'"

When Lou Lamoriello was named Devils boss in 1987, Dr. Fisher had been with the team for five years. The doc and the new boss hit it off and Lou retained Barry as the club's top medic until Lamoriello moved on to Toronto.

A native of Malverne, Long Island, Dr. Fisher spent his life as a Nassau County resident, mostly at Atlantic Beach. While the Catskills' hotels "Borscht Belt" still was thriving he also relished his week-long visits to the Concord Hotel.

Writing in the Long Island Herald, Matthew Ferremi noted that Barry was renowned not only for his medical successes but also his philanthropy, often helping the needy with their illness issues.

Ironically, Dr. Fisher's passing was attributed to Covid-19 related issues. The family requests that any donations should be directed to Dr. Robert Wolff of Pancreatic Cancer Research (MD Anderson Cancer Center.)

Barry is survived by his wife, Joann, and children Samantha, Haylee, Jordan, Ryan, Charlie, Erika and Corey as well as grandchildren Ethan, Austin, Matthew and Kyle; plus brother Howard and sister Suzanne.

So many sweet encomiums have been said and written about The Good Doc that it's challenging to pick out the best. But having loved being around Barry myself, I chose this from Susan Ferrari who wrote at the funeral.

"Barry was not only a doctor but a friend. He made you feel special because he, himself, was special."

Because he was so delightful a presence Dr. Barry Gerson Fisher forever will be remembered and dearly missed not only by the Devils family but those in the wider hockey world who knew and so appreciated him.

If they gave away Good Guy, "Mensch" championship rings, Barry would have owned more than three; more like dozens!

RIP, pal.