'I love you, buddy': Craig 'Partner' Baugh has left his mark on the Predators, NHL

Paul Skrbina | Nashville Tennessean

Show Caption Hide Caption Predators' Craig Baugh brings kindness to locker room Predators' Craig Baugh brings kindness to locker room

NASHVILLE -- The unmistakable voice boomed across the Predators locker room.

"Hey, Rinne," the voice shouted.

"What's up, buddy?" Pekka Rinne, the Predators' goalie, responded with a smile.

"You know what they're gonna say to P.K. Subban tonight?" the voice replied, a couple of hours before Subban was scheduled to return to play at Bridgestone Arena for the first time since his trade to the New Jersey Devils. "'Booo. Booo.'"

The unmistakable laugh, one that begins in the belly and muscles its way through the heart before reintroducing itself to everyone within earshot, followed.

The man behind the voice and the laugh is one of the most respected – and it could be argued, popular – people inside the place the Predators call home.

And across the NHL.

Most people outside Bridgestone Arena – save for a slew of NHL players past and present – don't even know his name.

Those who know him best, though, rarely call Craig Baugh by his name anyway.

The Predators locker room attendant is "Partner" or "Buddy" to those closest to him.

Rinne calls him "a legend."

There are countless people who call him a friend.

Hockey greats like Wayne Gretzky. Chris Chelios. Sidney Crosby. Joe Thornton. Roman Josi. Rinne.

The list, really, seems to go on and on for the man who takes care of the visitor's locker room at Bridgestone. Who does a lot of laundry – and won't leave until it's finished. Who takes pride in every towel he folds. Who sets up the benches with those towels and water bottles before games. Who helps load trucks for visiting teams after games – and for the Predators when they're going on a road trip. Who is at every Predators practice, badgering one player or another for his laundry and offering a familiar hello.

That's what happens when you make people smile. That's what happens when you've been with the Predators since the beginning. That's what happens when you make other people's good days – and bad days – better.

'I like to be friendly'

Baugh, who turned 55 on Dec. 2, has a learning disability, some physical disabilities, a heavy stutter and the ability to make everyone around him feel at ease with words or his patented bear hugs, like everything will be OK.

"I like to be friendly," Baugh said when asked about his hugs, which have been known to make grown men groan.

The NHL's version of "Radio" has an innate, honest way about him that has endeared him to a bunch of men who play a game for a living.

Baugh is incapable of dwelling on anything.

He's capable of just about anything.

"If you can't get in a good mood seeing him, you don’t have a heart in your chest," Baugh's boss, Predators equipment manager Pete Rogers, said.

Seeing is believing

Craig Baugh got "new eyeballs" for Christmas last year.

The corrective surgery was a gift from the Predators.

"Thanks for the new eyeballs," he announced during his first day back to work after the procedures.

Baugh, who was more than 90 percent blind in both eyes before the surgery, had seen the world in a blur through his thick glasses. Now he was seeing everything –license plates, tiny screws, the people he'd touched for so many years.

Doctors said Baugh's brain would need a few months to catch up with everything his new eyes would process. The doctors were wrong.

Baugh was still in his hospital bed after the first surgery on his right eye when he looked at Rogers, then looked at a clock 20 feet away.

"He reads me the time," Rogers said.

The two, along with assistant equipment manager Brad Peterson, left the hospital for lunch at one of Baugh's favorite spots, Dunkin' Donuts. Baugh began reading every license plate in the parking lot.

Because the surgeries were done on separate days, Rogers and Peterson decided that the right lens should be popped out of Baugh's glasses so he could really see what he could see. But when Peterson tried to dislodge the lens, the glasses snapped and a tiny screw holding them together fell to the floor.

"He's watching it roll across the floor, pointing at it," Rogers said. "This guy could never see anything."

Rogers had never seen anything like it.

Now Baugh has 20/40 vision in one eye and 20/60 in the other.

But it was never about seeing. It was always about feeling. It is always about believing.

"You look at him and it’s like he never has a bad day," Rogers said.

Fear the beard

But Baugh didn't like everything he saw with his improved sight – like San Jose Sharks player Joe Thornton's beard.

True to his personality, he wasn't afraid to show it.

When the Sharks were in town for the first time since Baugh's surgery, Thornton, one of Baugh's favorite visiting players, wanted to see him – and wanted Baugh to see him.

Rogers said Thornton told him: "He won't go near me anymore."

"It's the beard, man," Baugh said. "Awful."

Thornton, who is in his 22nd season, said he has a "huge smile on my face when we come into Nashville because I know I'm going to see Craig."

And sometimes be seen with Baugh.

"He likes his lunches; he likes his ribs," Thornton said. "And he likes you to pay for it. That’s how it is, which is fine with me. I like the company."

Like the time Predators CEO and President Sean Henry happened upon Baugh, Thornton and Sharks defenseman Brent Burns after a concert one night, eating across the street from Bridgestone Arena at The Palm.

There Baugh was, surrounded by Sharks players and lots of food – steaks, ribs, lobster, you name it. Laughter also was on the menu, of course.

"Nothing bothers him," Rogers said. "He doesn't have that innate gene. Think about all the people who have come and gone here over the years. ... That night we lost the Stanley Cup. That's as distraught as I've ever been losing a hockey game. The next day was just another day (for him)."

Make no mistake, Baugh is a diehard Predators fan. And Titans fan. And Overton High School football fan. He attended the school and works a hamburger stand with his twin brother during every home game.

He just doesn't let the pain of a loss get to him too much.

Ride of a lifetime

The first time Predators radio announcer Pete Weber met Baugh was 1990. Baugh was working for the Nashville Sounds at the time. Weber was doing radio for the Buffalo Bisons.

Baugh, who doesn't drive, takes the bus to work every day from the apartment he shares with his brother. Always has.

Like he still does today, he often tries to find a ride home after work. One time, he asked Weber, who had a rental car.

Weber asked Baugh how far away he lived.

"He goes, 'About five minutes,'" Weber said. "Thirty minutes later we delivered him to his house.

"I go, 'Partner, you said it was five minutes.'"

Problem was, because of his stutter, Baugh wasn't able to tell Weber where to turn in time. So they drove in circles and squares, with Weber asking when to turn and Baugh responding, "B-b-b-b-back th-th-th-there, Pete."

That half-hour endeared Baugh to Weber.

"From then on, this one was of the top characters of all time," Weber said. "Every player in this league thinks they are his favorite."

Which led Weber into another story: When he was downstairs at Bridgestone after a game against the Red Wings, Chris Chelios, one of Baugh's favorite players, was walking out with Brett Hull.

"So Chelios said, 'Hey, Brett, listen to this,'" Weber said.

Baugh happened to walk past, shoulders full of equipment bags he's loading on the Red Wings' truck.

"Who's your favorite player in the whole league?" Weber said Chelios asked Baugh. "'Partner' turns around and goes, 'Keith Tkachuk.'"

Laughter ensued. The joke was on Chelios.

"He's a National Hockey League famous figure," Weber said.

Weber wasn't talking about Chelios. He was talking about Baugh.

Phones first

Former Predator James Neal once spent four hours in an Apple Store with Baugh. Neal was there to buy Baugh a new iPhone for his birthday. But it took them two hours to figure out the right passwords to have the phones changed over.

In return, Baugh was known to give Neal valuable advice from time to time, according to Predators general manager David Poile.

"Say the coach was always getting on James Neal about taking bad penalties. I don’t know if it resonated with Neal, but (Peter Laviolette) would call 'Partner' in the room and ask him if you have any words of wisdom for us.

"And he would say, 'Stay out of the box.' Everybody would laugh. The love that players have for him, he's one of the guys."

Which is why Josi took Baugh to the Apple Store this year for his birthday – to get him an upgraded iPhone 11, the best model, as a gift.

Josi also has taken Baugh to Titans games.

He's loud there, too, Josi said. Especially if the Titans aren't playing well.

"He's been here longer than all of us, so he took us into his family," Josi said. "He's a part of the team like anyone else."

And not just with the Predators or in the NHL. Former Titans tight end Frank Wycheck used to leave Baugh a ticket to every home game.

Baugh's iPhone rings off the hook on his birthday – calls from former players, coaches, friends. NHL legends, including Sidney Crosby, who filmed a surprise video for Baugh for his 50th birthday.

All Baugh saw when he watched the video was his friends.

Helping hands

The Predators are also always there for Baugh.

Some years back, Baugh showed up for work one day with an eviction notice in his hand.

He handed it to Rogers and asked what it was. Due to a mixup, the money Baugh was supposed to receive from social services wasn't going to the right place.

His rent wasn't being paid.

Rogers immediately tracked down then-Predators captain Jason Arnott.

"We got a problem here," Rogers said he told Arnott. "I need like $4,500 or they're going to throw this guy's stuff on the street."

And him.

Arnott came back an hour later with the money. He'd taken up a collection from his teammates and handed it over to Rogers.

Rogers went to the Davidson County Sheriff's Office and paid the bill.

"These guys didn't even bat an eye," Rogers said of the players. "They just said, 'We don't want it back. Just make sure he's taken care of.'"

Boo who?

Poile – whom Baugh refers to as David "Pearl" because he can't pronounce Poile – has been around since Day 1 of the franchise, just like Rogers.

They both remember the days that Baugh literally sat on a chair outside unfinished Bridgestone, basically refusing to go away until he got the job.

People with the Sounds said Baugh would be perfect for it. For a while, during the Predators' lean years, Baugh kept both jobs.

"The popularity is not just in our room," Poile said. "In the other locker room, they're asking for him as much as us. Some teams are paranoid about the visiting team's help. But they want him there."

And he wants to be here.

Rogers wasn't sure at first how to take Baugh. Now he can't imagine life without him.

He's not only part of the family. He is the family.

He celebrates birthdays with the team, which learned many years ago to bring an extra cake after Baugh spit all over the one former Predator Scott Nicholls's wife baked him while blowing out his candles, rendering it inedible as far as the team was concerned.

But everyone has an appetite for his love.

That was evident last season, before Subban was traded.

Baugh was holding court outside the Predators' dressing room one morning, giving his dissertation on Subban's taste in music.

"It's awful, man. Just awful," Baugh said, not knowing that Subban was walking by at the time.

Subban just smiled and kept on his way before Baugh interrupted him.

"Hey, Subban," Baugh said, prompting Subban to turn around. "I love you, man."

"I love you too, buddy," Subban said before disappearing through a curtain in the hallway.

Reach Paul Skrbina at pskrbina@tennessean.com and follow him on Twitter @PaulSkrbina.