A Confession

In 2004 the Calgary Flames went all the way to the Stanley Cup finals. That year we just happened to get an "8 game pack," or was it 7? That's not the point. The point is that as ticket holders, we were given the option to buy playoff tickets as well. Of course we did.

I will admit that I am not a hockey fan, but for a couple of months, I was. I jumped on that bandwagon with both feet. To recoup some of the cost of the tickets, we sold some and kept some so we could see the games. I can't remember which ones we saw, or which we sold, but I'm sure Alan could tell you, not just that, but who scored and what happened. I'm pretty sure we were at the fateful game where Calgary was up 3 games to 0, and the "judges" (officials?) discounted a goal that would have not only won them the game, but the cup. Yes, very intense stuff, but I'm a little off track here.

Not for the first time, I stood tall and proud while the Canadian national anthem was belted out by 15-20,000 Canadians. The difference in the experience at the playoffs was the sheer volume of it. Before every hockey game they sing the anthems of the participating teams countries, that was nothing new, but you've really never heard anything like this. The warm blanket of hope, pride and being part of something wrapped around you and everyone in the room with the raising of voices. I know volume does not reflect quality in regards to singing, but this was the exception. It didn't matter if you sounded awful, you just needed to be part of it. I imagine that people in Vancouver are expierencing something similar this week.

This brings me to my revelation. It's a strange, somewhat embarassing phenomina, but I've decided to share it anyway. In the last few bars of our national anthem I, without fail, get quite choked up. And by choked up, I mean that I have to choke back the overwhelming urge to bawl my eyes out. I really can't explain it, and it didn't actually originate with the 2004 playoffs, it was just a lot harder to control because of the enormity of it in that instance.

I would like to say that I think it's patriotism, love for my fellow man, or maybe just being overwhelmed by the beauty of thousands of people proudly rising their voices in unity, but I don't really think it's any of those things. Why not? Because the same tearfulness happens at superdogs...