Watching game six of the Golden Nights – Canadiens playoff series and trying to keep my heart rate under control.
Honestly, I find watching games with this much at stake to be too stressful.
My favourite memories of me and my dad in the 1970s are of the two of us watching his small, portable black and white TV in the master bedroom, a length of cable winding up three sets of stairs from some kind of receiver in the basement to connect to the back of the television.
My mother didn’t care for hockey and my siblings were too young so it was our time together. Saturday night games were the best because after a delicious meal of home made pizza for supper, I stayed up to watch all three periods.
What a magical era that was for Habs fans. We were spoiled back then because they won so much of the time.
I remember that when they did lose, and I hung my head in sorrow, my dad would always tell me not to worry, that they were all millionaires. As if that could make up for losing a key game.
I remember the 1993 series vividly, the last time the Canadiens won the Stanley Cup. It isn’t the same league any more, but this is still a mega hockey city. Probably the only time opposing groups of all sorts are rooting for the same side.
They are ahead by one goal at the end of the second period. A win tonight and they are in the cup finals.
I’m finishing this blog and pressing publish before the end of the game. Worse case scenario, we’ll tune in to game seven two days from now.
Go habs go! 🤞