If you want to honour the life and times of John Brophy — maybe the most barbarous minor-league hockey player ever and later a hard-boiled, browbeating coach who passed away in his sleep at 83 on Monday morning — a good place to start is "the tape."

Toronto Sun hockey writer Lance Hornby is the owner of the classic recording, in which Brophy, then the coach of the Toronto Maple Leafs, drops 72 f-bombs in a two-minute post-game tirade with reporters. Hornby was there and often is asked by some of us in the business to let us listen to the hysterical rant.

It's a stunning piece of theatre.

Back on February 22, 1988, after Brophy's Maple Leafs were beaten 4-2 by the basement-dwelling Minnesota North Stars (the two teams were battling for the final playoff spot), Brophy reached the end of his rope.

As the story goes, Brophy cut off his session with reporters after the loss. He went into the dressing room, but then asked an assistant coach to summon the media members because he had more to say.

Here's an excerpt:

"Don't ask me to explain it. They've done it all year long. I'm tired, and sick and [bleeping] tired about having people that won't come to the rink. They're not [bleeping] fooling nobody and most of all they're not fooling anybody in the [bleeping] league.

"I'm sick and [bleeping] tired of making excuses.

"Who are those [bleeping] guys anyway? Who the [bleep] do they think they are? And who the [bleep] do they think they're kidding? Where do they get the nuts to come to the [bleeping] rink every second day and fourth day and play one period a week and get away with it?

"Who are these [bleeping] people that drag that uniform through the mud for [bleep's] sake? There's been great players play in the thing and they act like this here. Who are they?"

Inspiration for Slap Shot character

As the tape makes clear, Brophy cared about winning. His Maple Leafs did make the playoffs that year, albeit by finishing only one point ahead of Minnesota. But Brophy and his team hit rock bottom a few weeks later against the Detroit Red Wings in the first round of the playoffs when they were hammered 8-0 in Game 4 at Maple Leaf Gardens.

Moments after Brent Ashton ripped home Detroit's eighth goal, the fans turned on the hometown club, with some putting paper bags over their heads to mock the team. Pucks that found the stands earlier in the game were tossed back on the ice and one fan flung his Maple Leafs sweater over the glass and onto the ice surface. An usher even chucked his jacket and hat on the ice.

"The roof is falling in at Maple Leaf Gardens," Hockey Night in Canada play-by-play man Bob Cole said.

Brophy was fired midway through the next season. In many ways, he was saved from the circus of the Harold Ballard era.

Brophy's ways were better suited for the minor leagues anyway. As a player he piled up more than 4,000 penalty minutes in 18 seasons, and his colourful career was part of the inspiration for Paul Newman's Reg Dunlop character in the classic movie Slap Shot.

After his coaching tenure in Toronto ended, Brophy won three ECHL championships with the Hampton Roads Admirals in 11 seasons and retired with more than 1,000 pro victories.

Yes, the man with the full head of snow-white hair, piercing blue eyes and red face was intimidating. But he also was a guy you wanted to be around. He had that Nova Scotia charm. He could entertain you for hours with his stories from the hockey world, and he was a wonderful, kind person.

For several summers, when his wife, Nancy White, was playing on the LPGA Tour, I would see Brophy at the Canadian Women's Open. He always wanted to make sure a bunch of us had time for dinner one night that week.

He'd usually slide me a dozen Titleists. "Hopefully you can hit them straighter than Nancy is right now," he would joke.

As a coach, some of his players hated Brophy, but just as many loved the man. I remember reading a story in the Toronto Sun a few years ago, that when Mark Osborne and some other former Maple Leafs were playing in a series of old-timers games out East, they found a way to stop in and visit their old coach in his retirement home in Antigonish, Nova Scotia.

They traded memories and there was plenty of laughter. I'm not sure if the tape was discussed that day, but I'm sure it has been talked about plenty since the legend's passing.