Tues, May 4
... Sea of red
So here's the thing. It's been fifteen years since the Flames made it this far in the playoffs. And, incidentally, that was the last time they won the Stanley Cup.
Rewind to 1989. I was 7 years old, in grade one. I remember certain things about the playoffs that year so vividly. Nothing about the games in particular, but I remember the kids at my bus stop making signs that said, "Honk for the Flames!" and being so thrilled when people actually did. I remember my sister (who was 4 at the time) seeing pictures of people painting their faces red, and getting into the markers, scribbling red all over her face and my brother's face (he was 6 months old at the time). I remember making a sign that said, "Flames Got the Cup!" and putting it in our front window. I think we have pictures of each of those events somewhere.
This is history. This, for as much of a hockey fan as I may or may not be during the rest of the season, is part of my history. I'm a Calgarian. I have been my entire life, and this city is inextricably intertwined with a part of who I am. The identity that surges through hundreds of thousands of people this spring is just a manifestation of what we all are, at heart.
Last night, when Gelinas scored, I was watching the game in my room, semi-attempting to do homework. I ran into my mom's room and woke her up to tell her. My dad was outside, working in the shed, listening to the game on the radio, and he started honking the horn when the Flames won. When he came in the house, he woke my brother up to tell him, even though my brother didn't remember it in the morning.
Sometime during round 3, I'm going to have to go to 17th Ave with some friends and watch the game there. Just because that's the hub of playoff activity. Last night, after the game, the police had to shut it down, because there were so many thousands of people pouring out into the street, celebrating. It's all part of the experience, and I want to say that I was there. I want my memories of this time to be as vivid as my memories of last time.
Hopefully, though, the memories of these playoffs won't have to sustain this city for another 15 years.
infinite || abyss
posted at 12:04 p.m.
