My husband took me to an NHL hockey game two nights ago. The Jets, our team, were playing the Florida Panthers. The game went into overtime tied two-two and we scored with 15 seconds left on the clock. If you love hockey, it was a pretty exciting game to be at. The crowd was roaring with their cheers, pushing the Jets to their limits. The arena was a sea of blue jerseys, almost everyone representing. Even I was wearing the t-shirt.
For us, it was a date night. We had one and only one opportunity to go to a game this short season and Mr. Man really wanted to take me. Knowing I really don't care about hockey, he wanted me by his side while he watched a game he loves. We went out for Mongolian stirfry (my favourite!) before the game and made it to our seats five minutes before the U.S. and Canadian national anthems.
Not much to be sad about right?
Directly before the anthems were sung, it was communicated over the speakers that two men who had been dedicated to Winnipeg's NHL hockey and had served it for decades, had recently passed away. The first - a couple of months ago and the second - just last week. We were asked to join in a moment of silence to show our respect for these men and their families.
The MTS Centre holds just over 15,000 people and the game was sold out. 14, 998 people stood in silence as a tear slipped down my cheeks. Yes, here is where the sadness comes in.
I was certainly sad for the loss of life, knowing their families are presently in the early stages of grief. That always hits home for me.
What made me even more sad was that two men within the crowd were more concerned with the Winnipeg/Florida game that was about to ensue, than showing respect to a grieving community. As 14, 998 people stood in utter silence, these two men yelled out as loud as they could, "Go Jets Go!!"
I don't know if the people in my life would call me an angry person, but this, this utter disrespect made me mad. The second and third emotions that overtook were disgust and pure dispair. I felt so troubled, not only did I shed more angry tears, but also felt a little sick to my stomach.
After the announcer thanked us for our silence and we sang "O Canada" {insert shame}, all I could think was this: is a hockey game really more important than the loss of an honourable life?
Please tell me no. Please.
At a break, I went up to the security woman for our section and asked if she knew the men who had passed away. She did. I expressed my sympathy and she then informed me that all the men's families were at this game in their honour.
Another tear.
The hockey game was a hockey game. A game. Can you hear me?!?! A game.
To those two men who shouted out for their team... Is 15 seconds too long to remember the impact these two men had on the game you love ?!? On their friends and families lives? 15 seconds!
Don said, "Well Sus, 14, 998 people stood silently for that moment. That's pretty good."
My response? Not good enough. If 14,998 people can stand silently when they are super pumped for their team, so can two more.
To the two families of the men who died, I'm so sorry.
Love hockey, don't love hockey. I don't care.
Just know this...
I, for one, will always pick life and death over a game.
