Only by now the myth seems empty. Orr is genuinely interested in the kid, but they both avoid any mention of his crippled legs. The boy is consciously smiling for the photographers, and the mother seems uncomfortable.

The traditional plot line is there, but the story is empty. Everyone in the room knows that Bobby Orr can't cure the kid, but in the backs of their minds there still exists the belief that maybe this time he can.

By the end of the session three girls have finally worked themselves up to crying. A blonde in a long purple coat appears and, watching Orr, smiles demurely. A press agent takes her to the car in preparation for the departure. The crowd swells, the noise increases, and Orr hurries through the last autographs.

Throughout, Orr has seemed modest and shy-Sure, he plays the public's game, but one wonders if he doesn't sometimes think it silly. Orr, now living his dream, knows what it's like better than anyone. In his own simple way he says, "People put an athlete on a pedestal, where they shouldn't."

The press agents push Orr through to the car. He sits next to the girl in the purple coat as the car pulls away from the Coop, followed by little kids screaming, "Hey, Bobby."