Amid celebrations for '70 Cup title anniversary, an always humble Bobby Orr thanks 'heroes' of today

There isn’t a whole lot that hasn’t already been said about Bobby Orr. 

To many, the fleet-footed defenseman is the greatest to ever lace up the skates.

To all, he remains as a transformative presence within the game of hockey, responsible for taking entrenched perception about blueliners and — much as he did to opposing skaters on the rush — leaving them in the dust.

For those lucky enough to see No. 4 take to the ice at the Garden ice, Orr was far more than just a franchise cornerstone or cult hero. A small pool of individuals can ever stake a claim as being the top player in their respected sport, but only a chosen few can take the fabric of a game and rewrite what was possible as soon as the puck was dropped.

For the generations that followed, the Bruins' greatest player almost achieved mythic status. We all heard the same tales from our parents, grandparents, coaches and others — all attempting to turn back to the page to boast of Orr's exploits.

No one was faster. No one was smarter. No one was quite like No. 4.

Before the days of Youtube and NHL Network, all my generation had as a testament to Orr's greatness were these stories of yesteryear.

Well, that, and a photo of a young man, frozen in time, taking flight on May 10, 1970 — a snapshot plastered over every rink, parlor and watering hole from Presque Isle to Providence.

But for Robert Gordon Orr, all of the accolades and achievements piled up over the years — two Cup titles, three Hart Trophies, eight Norris Trophies — haven't changed the humble man from from Parry Sound, Ontario who still views himself as "part of the puzzle" on two championship clubs. 

"I really appreciate the comments from the guys," Orr said Wednesday when asked about the praise he regularly receives. "I was one of the lucky ones. I got to play a great game. Played with some wonderful people throughout my career. And I just feel like a lucky guy. I was playing a game, I was being paid to play a game and that's a pretty good position to be in. But I don't think a lot about being the greatest or anything like that. That's really isn't my thing.”

For an individual whose likeness is emblazoned in bronze just steps outside of the Bruins' barn on Causeway Street, Orr is far more willing to delve into tales of his teammates, family and friends — rather than harp on the personal achievements that warranted the creation of such a display.