Today, we pay tribute to a member of our family who passed away on May 2, 2025.

Gilles wasn't just a petanque partner. He was a friend. A real one. A guy with whom we were never bored. Whether it was over a meal at Chic Resto Pop, where he always made us laugh with his famous "no chicken yet !", or in the car on the way to the Laval boulodrome, telling one of his stories from the Sherbrooke coast ... with him, it was never boring.

Photo Credit : Hugo Lorini / Lalancette Park

Le Treiz Pétanque exists thanks to the crew from Lalancette Park, and Gilou has always been a pillar of that crew. He’s been there since the beginning—always ready to lend a hand, chat, and share a laugh. He was a true character. A guy we’ll never forget.

He came to all our events—whether riding his electric bike to La Fontaine Park or even in winter at Mount Olympus. He was always there, with his legendary yellow tinted sunglasses, his Le Treiz shirt on his back, and his dance moves by the court.

Hochelaga District / Lalancette Park / La Fontaine Park

His stories, his straight talk, his colorful expressions … they were part of our everyday life. And we're really going to miss that.

Thank you for everything, Gilou. You'll stay in our hearts forever.

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To pay tribute in our own way, we’re sharing a text by Laurent Thivierge, a friend and member of the Lalancette Park community. His message reflects the human spirit we find—and love so much—in this special gathering place.

 

Lalancette Park (Laurent and Gilles)

Gilles : The Sound of Steel

By Laurent Thivierge

With Gilles’s departure, it’s not just one of our crew leaving — it’s like the biggest tree in the forest has fallen.

Gilles left the way he lived : full throttle. After the first relentless rays of spring weren’t enough to bring him to the petanque field as he did every year, everyone who even knew him a little bit understood something was seriously wrong.

I remember once seeing him fall on the concrete and hearing a dull thud that convinced me it was over : If a breaking hip had a sound, that was it, I thought to myself. But Gilles wasn’t done surprising me. "Don’t worry, I’m tough," he said. He got back up, finished his game, played the rematch, then hopped on his bike to go have dinner because it was his usual time — and even came back later to play again. Often, the only reason he’d stop playing was because the lights went out at eleven. Gilles had turned 80 ... many seasons ago.

Gilles was one of the elders of the park. Anyone who plays petanque at Lalancette Park has played a few games with him. Above all, Gilles was a player. He was a player in our crew. You only had to see the determination with which he threw the opponent’s boule to understand that age is a pretty abstract concept. In fact, if there’s one thing Gilles taught us, it’s that you should never stop having fun.

 

More Than a Game : A Community

Lalancette Park

At a time when our society places those who built Quebec into long-term care facilities (CHSLD), it is crucial to celebrate places that bring together the young and the old. Petanque is just an excuse. In Hochelaga, at Lalancette Park, it is the metal (or stainless steel, or carbon !) that slowly weaves the threads of a social net, as players become friends. I remember when Gilles was forced out of his apartment a few summers ago—a place he had lived in for many years. At that time, he was in deep despair, and it was his petanque buddies who helped him challenge the situation, find a new apartment in the neighborhood, and ultimately helped him move, ensuring that Gilles could keep his ecosystem intact and continue showing up to throw his boules !

I also remember one time after playing a tournament with him, he absolutely didn’t want me to ride my bike home because he thought I was way too drunk. He forced me to sit in his truck with my bike, and he drove me home. Two days later, he was cracking up telling me that right after dropping me off, just around the corner, he was sure that the transmission had just blown out when he hit the brakes. That was just before realizing that the loud bang-boom noise he heard was actually my petanque boules, forgotten in his truck, rolling around and crashing into each other when he stopped.

With Gilles, not only do our direct memories of him take flight, but also those of another era. Gilles loved to tell us about old Montreal. The Rosemont of cows and fields, the Sherbrooke Coast where kids slid on a vast winter field without an Olympic stadium. He was proud to tell us what he did after his divorce, back when divorces just didn’t happen. He got into his truck and drove all the way to Nicaragua. He built a hotel, learned Spanish, and lived there for several years—nothing less.

Photo Credit : Laurent Thivierge / Laval Boulodrome

How could we forget those winter evenings when we’d pick him up from his place and take him to play indoor petanque with us in Laval ? The trip to the boulodrome was long enough for Gilles to share absolutely incredible stories—thanks in part to the adventures of Laberge !

As our society fragments and transforms with social connections becoming more intangible, places for physical gathering may have never been more important. Petanque is the crossroads of so many distinct identities and life paths.

Today, young people born in Algeria, Morocco, Congo, and Montreal, as well as others a bit older from all over, mourn the loss of our Gilou.

For life, all united by the sound of steel !