"How you doin', kid?" was the standard and boisterous TJ greeting, even if the "kid" might have been a 70-year-old hotel doorman, or the aged owner of his favorite breakfast "joint" in Montreal. "Joint" was also used universally by Johnson. The bar at the Ritz could be a "good joint," as could the hot dog stand at the old Le Colisee, home to the Nordiques in Quebec City. Part of the legendary Habs squads that won five straight Cups in the 1950s, he knew all the joints the league had to offer.
"Kid" covered just about everyone, and you knew you were inching your way up the Johnson totem pole of respect when he began to refer to you only by your last name. To wit: "Dupont . . . you workin' today, or will the Globe be letting [former reporter Fran] Rosa tell its readers what's really going on?"
As stated, you had to inch your way up that totem pole.
The mischievous Johnson gave everyone the business, but his best friends were, without doubt, his favorite and favored targets. That sly cheshire smile that was always on "Tom Cat's" face would mushroom instantly to a belly laugh, with accompanying tears of laughter, if he could gain the slightest edge on his ol' pal Fisher, whom only he referred to as "Saulie."
For the record, most everyone in the world addresses Fisher, who remains an icon in Montreal, as "Red." There are a few who call him "Fish." But for Johnson, it was always "Saulie," no doubt because it was Johnson's way of showing him not the least bit of reverence. This was the man, of course, who opened up his Montreal home to the new Mr. and Mrs. Tom and Doris Johnson on their wedding night long, long ago. Why would anyone, especially Johnson, want to be too kind to him?
