Everybody knew hard-nosed legend Bob Geary was gay and nobody cared

   Everybody knew that Bob Geary - legendary, well-loved Montreal football boss, entrepreneur, tough guy and alpha male - was gay.
   Everybody knew and nobody cared.
   Geary's story challenges notions that known homosexuals were shunned in Montreal during his era from the 1940s to the 1980s.
   Geary demonstrated that a talented, diligent, sociable person could be admired and respected regardless of sexual orientation during a time when gays were thought to be less appreciated than they are today.
   "He knew that others knew, but I don’t think he gave a damn what anybody thought and he was very protective of the guys he frequented," a employee of Geary's Circus Bar tells Coolopolis.
    Geary's bar, on St. Catherine (north side) near Stanley, was around in the late 1960s and he went on to own a restaurant much later.
   "He was so tough that no one wanted to mention it out loud." 
   That staffer saw Geary lay beat-downs on all challengers, ranging from Alouettes hulking fullback Nat "Crash" Craddock to a current philanthropist who was close friends with the bankrobbing Johnston clan.
   "Geary kicked his ass, like so many others."
    A longtime bartender in the Point tells Coolopolis that an aging and half-tipsy Geary once brazenly announced to a group of heterosexuals at The Capri that "The only thing I like more than fighting is (vulgar term for performing oral sex on a man.)
  The men weren't fazed one bit, as they all admired Geary for his many good deeds. 
  Tim Burke, a hard-nosed old-school scribe, knew all about Geary's personal proclivities and professional accomplishments as a football player and then General Manager for the Montreal Alouettes.
   Burke raved about Geary with boundless admiration, as noted in this Gazette column from 14 Jan. 1982.   

Bob Geary is a certified Montreal institution. He remembers, since he was a roly-ply waif in Griffintown, every guy he's met.

West of St. Lawrence Blvd. I'd say he knows half the population on a first name basis. And he's probably fought more than a thousand of them in the alley. 

   To say he's merely the general manager of the Alouettes is ridiculous. He is the Als. If you have trouble with your tix, you call Geary. If a pipe in the washroom is leaking, Geary comes out of his office with a wrench.  

  When he was a young lineman with the Als, Geary probably was the first effective Canadian nationalist. More than one American who said, "Canadians take their showers after us" was run out of camp under a bombardment of Geary's fists.

When he was at Catholic High with his great pal, man-mountain Tony Pajaczkowski, he beat the unbeatable Paj in a boxing exhibition to raise funds for the school. Paj had to go into the ring with him because Jim Miller, reigning Golden Gloves and national intercollegiate heavyweight champ, refused to. 

Anybody he's worked for will tell you he'll do the chores of five normal men. Back in '74, Marv Levy said of him: "The great thing about Bob Geary is that when a seemingly insurmountable problem arises most guys are telling you when it can't be solved - Geary is figuring out a half a dozen ways of how it can be." 

When the Als  were at an all-time low last season, he was the only member of the organization who would venture into the Quarterback Club. One night when I was there and the fans were berating him, he grinned and whispered over to me: "this is the longest-running roast in history."

Though he's a chum of Verdun's Scott Bowman, he dismisses hockey and lacrosse with this half-serious remark: "Any guy who has to use a stick to play his game is a pussy."

   Legend has it that longtime Canadiens coach Scotty Bowman once affectionately referred to Geary at a gala speech as the "toughest queer in town," says former Gazette columnist Mike Boone.
   "The toughness was indisputable. Geary was a notorious brawler. He and his crew, including fellow legendary tough guy Des Findlay, liked to party at some joint in Rawdon. The night out inevitably included a punch-up in the parking lot. George Springate told me it was wise to get out there early to watch because it didn't last long."
       Geary, who stood 5'9" and weighed 175 lbs during his playing days, died at age 67 while golfing in the States on Feb. 17 2001. He left no children and is said to be have been survived by a spouse in Point St. Charles named Gary.