How Marcus and Nick Folignos NHL paths were shaped by their late mother: She was the rock -

When Marcus and Nick Foligno think about their late mother, Janis, their most vivid memories involve two things.

Car rides.

And Celine Dion.

“My heart will go on,” Marcus Foligno says, smiling.

“My love for Celine Dion came from singing that with my mom,” Nick says.

“Nick was obsessed with Celine,” Marcus quips.

With Marcus and Nick’s father, former NHL player and coach Mike Foligno, often away when they were young, Janis was not only the driving force in their childhood — she was the driver. She would pack the brothers into the family’s red Ford Explorer or gray Chevy Suburban for early-morning and late-night treks from their home in Sudbury, Ontario, to Timmins or Sault Ste. Marie or even Toronto for practices and games. The boys, often running behind, would change into their gear in the back seat — when they weren’t fighting.

Nick says the family joke was that if their mom drove, they’d be on time, and if their father was behind the wheel, they’d miss the first period.

And throughout these three- and four-hour drives, Janis would play either Celine or Shania Twain, her two favorite Canadian artists. She would belt out her favorite hits, and the boys would join in.

“We didn’t need pop music to get us pumped up,” Marcus says. “Nick knew all the lyrics. He tried to sing like her. His voice is a lot better than mine — but still not that good.”

“That was her happiest moments,” Nick says. “When we were all together.”

Mike, who played more than 1,000 NHL games with the Sabres, Red Wings, Leafs and Panthers, certainly shaped his sons’ path. He gave them important hockey advice, literally showing them the way. But both Marcus, 31, and Nick, 35, say it’s hard to imagine where they’d be in their careers had it not been for the motherly guidance of Janis, who died in 2009 at age 47 of breast cancer.

It wasn’t just the car rides or the high-pitched cheers from the stands. There were the jingles she’d sing to get them out of bed in the morning, the encouragement, the way she’d tell them to “Go get a Dairy Queen” when they needed a reminder to not take something too seriously.

Janis has been gone for nearly 14 years now, but her legacy — and memory — lives on with the Janis Foligno Foundation, which has raised more than $1.2 million for cancer research and patient care. Marcus holds an annual “Whiskey & Wine” event with the Wild — a stick tap to Janis’ Italian roots and love of red wine.

#mnwild winger Marcus Foligno and his wife Natascia at their Whiskey + Wine event. Benefits the Janis Foligno Foundation, which honors his late mother who died from breast cancer. Foligno said they’ve raised $1.2 million over the years. For more info, https://t.co/CilhSNdeDL pic.twitter.com/XJZnhiNOie

— Joe Smith (@JoeSmithNHL) February 19, 2023

Janis got to see Nick get drafted in 2006 and make his NHL debut in 2007. She hung on long enough to see Marcus get drafted in 2009, too, passing away a month after.

“Our dad played hockey, and we listened to him for advice on how to play,” Marcus says. “But if it wasn’t for our mom getting us where we needed to go, being such a supporter and booster of our confidence, I don’t think we would have made it.”

“She was the drill sergeant in the family, the motivator, the everything, really,” Nick says. “She was the rock — which is why it really rocked our family when we lost her.”

Mike met Janis in their hometown of Sudbury.

“High school sweethearts,” he says.

Mike was the rising hockey star, but Janis also was a pretty good athlete. She was on the volleyball and track and field teams, but her best sport was ringette, a hockey-like game also played on ice using skates and straight sticks with drag-tips. “Sticks without a blade basically,” Marcus says.

“She was, from what I heard, one of the most skilled ringette players in Sudbury,” Marcus says. “Her hands were really good, and her playmaking and hockey IQ were really good. She was always a relaxed skater, which, in other words, she didn’t like to backcheck.”

Mike laughs recalling how he tested Janis’ track skills early in their courtship.

“When we first met, we ran a few races, and she actually beat me,” Mike says. “I had to work on my sprints.”

Janis had hockey in her blood. Her uncle, Eddie Giacomin, was a five-time All-Star during a 13-year NHL career, playing for the Rangers and Red Wings. Mike didn’t realize quite how big of a hockey fan his wife was until he found a pack of ticket stubs from games Mike played with the Sabres — years after he’d moved on from Buffalo. Janis had written how he did in each game on the back of the ticket: “good game, goal, two assists.”

“It made me laugh,” Mike says. “I didn’t even know she kept track of it. I thought she was always talking in the stands.”

Or yelling.

“The joke in our family is that she had this high-pitched screech when she was really upset,” Nick says. “We almost didn’t want to hear that more than our dad yelling. It was like a nail on a chalkboard. Whenever we heard it, it shut everybody up.”

“The best thing about her was how she’d dish criticism,” Marcus says. “She’d say, ‘Nice pass, but a little bit lazy today.’ ‘You had a really good goal tonight but were on for three goals against.’ With my dad, it was like, ‘This is what you need to work on.’ My mom always made us appreciate when we scored. She was the driving force for us in the excitement for us staying in the game.”

“My mom had these ways of building you up — even when she was giving you criticism,” Nick says.

When Nick moved to Ottawa for his first NHL season, Janis was worried about his living on his own as a 19-year-old. He left home as a teenager to play for the U.S. National Team Development Program in Ann Arbor, Mich., but he had billets there.

“She always had this funny way of looking at life,” Nick says. “She always wanted you to remember to still be a kid. She’d say something, and it’s terrible advice now looking back, but, ‘If you’re having a bad day, go have a Dairy Queen.’ As a pro athlete, I don’t know if that’s what I really needed. But I know what she meant by it now. It was like, ‘Don’t take life too seriously. You’re so young and have so much to learn. Don’t grow up too fast. Remember the joy in little things.’

“I took it to heart and had a lot of Dairy Queen that year.”

When Nick has Dairy Queen with his kids, he’ll think about that. He’ll tell the story.

“She really made her presence felt,” he says. “And we remember these stories to this day.”

After Mike retired following his 1993-94 season and started his coaching career, the family moved around a lot, from St. John’s to Toronto to Colorado to Hershey (Pa.) to Sudbury. Wherever they were, family dinner was late enough, 8 p.m. or so, to make sure everyone could be there at the table together after practices: she, Mike, the boys and older sisters Cara and Lisa.

“The majority of the workload fell on her shoulders,” Mike says.

Janis was diagnosed with breast cancer when Marcus was 13 years old.

He remembers his parents sitting him down in their Sudbury home and telling him. Nick was in Ann Arbor. Lisa, now 36, was a senior in high school. Cara, now 38, was at Canisius College.

“It was a scary time,” Marcus says.

Janis went into remission after a year, but the cancer came back right before the five-year mark, and it spread. As Marcus says, “That’s never good.”

Janis got to watch Marcus play for Sudbury in juniors, and the family felt like she was just holding on until his NHL Draft in June 2009. The family had attended Nick’s draft three years earlier in Vancouver, where he got picked by the Senators. Marcus’ draft was in Montreal, and Janis hated missing it, but, brittle at that point due to chemotherapy, she insisted the boys go.

So Mike drove his sons to Montreal for the milestone moment. Janis watched from their Sudbury home with family and friends. She was Marcus’ first call when he got picked in the fourth round by the Sabres. Dad and sons spent one night in Montreal celebrating, then made the seven-hour drive back the next day.

When they got back, there were blue and yellow balloons hanging from chairs on the porch, along with signs like “Congratulations” and “Way to go Moose.” Nick and Janis always called Marcus “Moose” as a kid. Nick says it’s because he was big and awkward as a baby. “Now he looks like a moose,” Nick jokes of his 6-foot-3, 226-pound little brother.

What Marcus recalls most about their return from Montreal is his mother being the first one to greet him when he walked in. She was bald at that point from the treatment, and it was hard for her to move around. But Janis was beaming. She put on one of Mike’s old Sabres jerseys so she looked the part. She gave Marcus a big squeeze.

“I’m proud of you,” she told him.

“It was emotional,” Marcus says. “You think your mother hung on for that day, to see you get drafted. It was weird how full circle it was. Buffalo. It could have been anywhere in the NHL. She knew I’d be going home with a lot of family and friends there. She knew I’d be good. I’d be safe. It was a crazy, crazy, special moment.”

“It’s almost like in her mind, she saw her last child, she knew he’d be OK,” Mike says. “That moment she may have mentally and emotionally let go of it.”

Janis died July 27, 2009. Each of her kids got a turn saying goodbye.

At Janis’ funeral, the family was blown away by how many neighbors and friends from their different stops came to offer condolences. Many of those people would later support the foundation — from a couple of young boys from Sudbury who donated a few hundred bucks after starting a hot chocolate stand, to others who help with Janis’ passion project, Meals on Wheels.

The Foligno brothers think about their mom often. Mother’s Day always will hit them especially hard. At Christmas, it’s how she brought the family’s home to life with lights and decorations — keeping the same ones, no matter how old they got. On a trip to the mall, they’ll chuckle about how she always found time to shop (T.J. Maxx being her favorite). Nick brings his kids to Dairy Queen because, well, you know, sometimes you just need it.

And, of course, they’ll sing any time Celine comes on the radio.

“My heart will go on.”

(Photos courtesy of Marcus Foligno)

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