Eric Lindros will be honored later in November as an exemplary native of Ontario. In this 1989 story from The Hockey News Archive, we see how special he was, on the ice and off of it.

Today, as part of our duties as curator of The Hockey News Archive, – and don’t forget, you get full access to the archive when you subscribe to the magazine – we’re taking a look at the early days of onetime phenom Eric Lindros. 

Lindros was one of 26 people named to the Order of Ontario on Monday, which “recognizes exceptional leaders from all walks of life and diverse fields of endeavor whose impact and lasting legacy have played an important role in building a stronger province, country and world.”

It’s a tremendous honor for the 50-year-old Lindros, but he’s been exceptional for most of his life – including in his time in major junior hockey, during which time he absolutely dominated opponents and essentially was a man-sized threat in a boy’s game at that time.

Indeed, in this article – which was first published with an issue date of Sept. 22, 1989 (Vok. 43, Issue 1) – then-THN-writer-and-editor Bob McKenzie spoke to Lindros and his mother, Bonnie. And it was made clear back then that, even as a 16-year-old kid, Lindros had major expectations of him – and he fulfilled those expectations as he became a legend at the NHL level.

“It’s all planned out for him,” said longtime NHL GM Jim Rutherford, who was director of hockey operations for Compuware, the Tier II, National Junior League team Eric played on at the time. “He knows what he’s doing and when he’s doing it.”

To bring balance and order to his life, Lindros carried a datebook at all times, although he sometimes recognized how different his life was than his fellow 16-year-olds.

"(The datebook) really works, it’s efficient,” Lindros said of his high school days. “But you do feel sort of stupid walking through the (school) halls and everywhere you go with a little book under your arm.”

Lindros has been incredibly charitable with his time and money, including during his Hall of Fame career. In one of his most famous charity donations, he gave $5 million to the London, Ont., London Health Sciences Foundation in 2007. Lindros also hosts an annual charity game benefitting Easter Seals, which helps kids with physical disabilities succeed.

Lindros was a special player and is a special person, and even 34 years ago, his parents knew he was destined to make a difference in people’s lives.

“There’s no way we’re going to apologize for having an exceptional son,” Bonnie Lindros told McKenzie. “Let me tell you, he’s been a challenge to raise because he is exceptional. I always say, ‘Average is easy.”

One thing is for sure: Eric Lindros was never average.

Hard To Believe Lindros Is Only 16

Vol. 43, Issue 1, Sept 22, 1989

By Bob McKenzie

The birth certificate of Eric Bryan Lindros says he was born Feb. 28, 1973, at Victoria Hospital in London, Ont.

Sixteen years old? I find that hard to believe.

Never mind that the handsome young man from Toronto is a phenomenal hockey player, a potential NHL star who many claim is capable of making the jump to pro today (see page 7).

Eric Lindros, all 6-foot-4, 217 pounds of him, shows remarkable maturity in all aspects of his life.

Do you remember when you were 16? I do. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was shiftless, but I took each day pretty much as it came. Which, hey, isn’t such a bad way to struggle through the difficult adolescent years. I suspect I am not alone.

Lindros, then, is exceptional. He charts his daily and weekly activities in a datebook to maintain a delicate balance between education, athletic and social events.

“It’s all planned out for him,” says Jim Rutherford, director of hockey operations for Compuware, the tier two team Eric plays on. “He knows what he’s doing and when he’s doing it.”

Eric speaks with conviction that betrays very little of his youth. And just when you start to wonder if there isn’t something eerie about a 16-year-old who behaves like a mature man, he does or says something that makes you realize he’s still a teenager.

“It (the datebook) really works, it’s efficient,” says Lindros, who’s attending Farmington High School in suburban Detroit. “But you do feel sort of stupid walking through the halls and everywhere you go with a little book under your arm.”

Lindros is a product of his environment. His mother, Bonnie, a registered nurse, and his father, Carl, a chartered accountant, have given their eldest son more than hereditary athletic skills and a striking physique.

(Carl is 6-foot-4, 235 pounds and a former varsity football player at the University of Western Ontario, and Bonnie strikes an athletic pose at 5-foot-11.)

They are a professional couple who have imparted an air of professionalism to their three children (Eric, Brett, 13, and Robin, 10). To say that Eric has grasped the concept wholeheartedly would be an understatement. Translation: He didn’t lick his organizational skills off the grass.

But then, says his mother, he’s always been advanced.

“He sat up when he was four months old,” Bonnie says. “He walked at 7-and-a-half months. He rode a two-wheeler (no training wheels, of course) when he was three years, one month. He was five when he first went water-skiing…and he didn’t fall either. At 11, he got a unicycle for Christmas and an hour later he was riding around the basement.”

You’ll be encouraged to know that Eric isn’t perfect. His bedroom is characteristically — for a 16-year-old, that is — disheveled. “He’s like his father,” Bonnie says. “What has to be organized is very organized; everything else is in piles on the floor.”

Eric enjoys going to the movies, finds time to date, though he doesn’t currently have a steady, and listens to rock music. “Raise A Little Hell,” a pop-rock tune by a Toronto band called Trooper, has been adopted as his theme song.

“And Eric does like to raise a little hell from time to time,” Bonnie admits.

But for the most part, the Eric Lindros on display for public consumption is the methodical, determined phenom purposefully taking measured steps on his way to hockey stardom. Which, the Lindroses painstakingly point out, is a path their son has eagerly chosen to take. Translation: Don’t paint us as pushy parents.

“There’s no way we’re going to apologize for having an exceptional son,” Bonnie says. “Let me tell you. he’s been a challenge to raise because he is exceptional. I always say, ‘Average is easy.”

And Eric Lindros is not average. Not even close.