If only we had the words to describe Doc the way he had the words to describe hockey. Hockey is a game of action, and verbs are the action words. Doc used verbs no other hockey broadcaster did -- waffle boarded, ladled, skittered, pitchforked, knifed -- and he used them with an endearing energy and inflection all his own. Listening to Doc call a game was like watching Pavel Datsyuk play the game: full of skill, creativity and surprises. You paid attention because you never knew what might come next. Doc was also a graceful storyteller and essayist, and a warm, humble man on and off camera. All the stories you hear are true. The morning after a big NHL game or event, I'd often bump into Doc at the airport because we both lived in the Detroit area and were heading home. No matter the early hour, he'd smile, say hello, share a story. The end of his retirement announcement was perfect. "I leave you with sincere thanks, your hockey friend, Doc." To so many people, whether they knew him or not, that's what he was, their hockey friend, as familiar as his one-syllable nickname. Thank you, Doc.