Willie O'Ree is looking forward to his return to Springfield, if only because he's sure this visit will be better than the last one.

"I was playing in Quebec in the QHL, and (Springfield Indians owner) Eddie Shore said he needed me as an emergency (player),'' said O'Ree, who will be the featured attraction Friday night at the "Hockey Is For Everyone" night of the Springfield Thunderbirds. The AHL game against Hartford salutes the 60th anniversary of O'Ree's debut as the Jackie Robinson of hockey - the first black player ever to suit up in the National Hockey League.

But first, O'Ree came to Springfield. Now 82 and sounding about 40, he is listed in hockey records as having played six games for the Indians in the 1957-58 season - his only AHL experience in a 25-year pro career that ended at age 45 in 1980.

The records are wrong.

"I sat on the bench for five games. In the sixth game, I got on the ice for 32 seconds,'' O'Ree recalled.

"I asked (Shore) why bring me here for 30 seconds of ice time when I could have kept playing in Quebec? He told me it was because other guys were playing well.

"I didn't believe that then. I don't believe it now.''

That interlude is anecdotal to a career that should be known to far more people than it is. On Jan. 18, 1958 at Montreal, O'Ree played his first game for the Boston Bruins. He was the first black player in the 40-year history of the NHL.

O'Ree made his home debut the following night in Boston. Following those two games, he did not play again in the NHL until the 1960-61 season, when he played 43 games for Boston and scored four goals.

It would be another 13 years before another black player appeared in an NHL game. More than 20 blacks have played in the league in recent years, and O'Ree is still employed by the NHL as an ambassador who speaks at youth groups and at schools, as he will do during his trip to Springfield.

He tells kids to keep up their grades and believe in their dreams, and if they have some doubt, look at his story as proof dreams can come true. He will describe that dream and meet fans at a meet-and-greet session from 6 to 6:30, as part of the pregame for the 7:05 game.

"I owe a lot to my older brother, Richard,'' said O'Ree, the youngest of 13 children and a native of Fredericton, New Brunswick.

"I decided at age 14 I wanted to play pro hockey. Richard told me, 'if people can't accept you for who you are, don't let it bother you.' "

O'Ree never forgot that advice. He shrugged off whatever taunts and slurs he heard - and, he says, which he sometimes still hears. He learned how to fight, but never over racial issues.

O'Ree's hockey fights were of the pure hockey variety, a part of the job in days players did not wear helmets, goalies did not wear masks and guys defended themselves, rather than expecting a designated enforcer to do it for them.

For as much as O'Ree acknowledges his far from flattering recollection of Shore, he has nothing but fond memories of his time with the Bruins. From management to the players and the fans, he said he was treated warmly and with support and respect.

That's worth hearing about a city whose more well-publicized experiences with black athletes in the 1950s and early 1960s tell a far different story. The Red Sox are still pained by owner Tom Yawkey's refusal to sign a black player until 1959, more than a year after O'Ree had played for the Bruins, and after every other big-league baseball team had erased the color line.

The Celtics pioneered integrated NBA basketball, but that didn't stop Bill Russell from decrying the racism he encountered in the city, a charge supported by his white and black teammates alike.

Thankfully, that was not the experience of O'Ree, who stayed in the predominantly black section of Roxbury. With what he calls "great memories" of Boston, he returned to the AHL with New Haven in 1972-73, but spent most of his last 20 seasons in the Western Hockey League, mostly in San Diego, where he lives today.

As if O'Ree's story is not inspiring enough, he carved out a long and successful career with one eye. Blinded in his right eye by a puck during the 1950s - before he came to Springfield and Boston - O'Ree initially over-compensated with his on-ice positioning before deciding to play his normal game.

"I was a left wing who couldn't see out of my right eye. I finally decided to forget about what I couldn't see, and concentrate on what I could,'' O'Ree said.

Knowing he'd never get a chance if he told his future employers about his right-eye blindness, O'Ree kept the information to himself. The Bruins never made him take an eye test. Not until after he retired did O'Ree replace the useless eye with a prosthetic version.

But remember what Al Pacino memorably said in "Scent of a Woman," a 1992 movie where he played a fully blind man? "At one time, I could see,''' Pacino's character said. "And I have seen."

O'Ree has also seen - much more than most. He's seen the NHL change from an all-white, almost all Canadian game to a multicultural sport. He soldiers on, supporting learn-to-skate programs and urging kids to believe if a one-eyed black man can help change hockey and establish a successful career, their dreams are within their reach as well.

"It doesn't seem like a job, talking to kids, getting them to set goals and feel better about themselves,'' O'Ree said as he awaited his visit to Springfield. "When I lost the sight in my eye, the doctor told me I'd never play hockey again but I played for 25 more years.''

Only 32 seconds of it came in Springfield. It will be high time and a very welcome sight when the Thunderbirds introduce him on Friday, and cement their own conviction that hockey is, in fact, for everyone.