The theme from Hockey Night in Canada
I flicked on the TV when I got home and caught a Montreal Canadiens Oldtimers vs. the Legends of Hockey game.
The names carried me to another time in professional hockey, which was not tainted by scandal, rising salaries and strikes. It also took me back to a time when I would sit with my dad and we would watch Hockey Night in Canada. I think that genetically, I was born to be a Habs fan. Watching the game tonight I saw names from the Canadiens dominant time that consumed most of the 1970s; I think they won like 6 Stanley Cups with four in a row from 76-79.
I saw Guy Lafleur (the flower), Pete Mahovolich, Yvan Cournoyer, Serge Savard, and more recent names from the 80s and 90s including Gaston Gingras, Guy Carrboneau, Chris Nilan, Benoit Brunet, Shane Corson, Stephane Richer.
I get feelings from a time that I cannot return to. A time when I was building memories with my dad that will grow deeper, more meaningful yet harder to retrieve as the years pass.
I think that almost every story I write I can attach to myself. Today for example, I covered a re-enactment of an MVA using the jaws of life for the high school's dry grad campaign; in the afternoon I was at the multi-level care unit. One era has passed by me on the train of life and the other may become my future; God only knows.
I'm not sure if these kind of thoughts make me more appreciative of my current life, or make me look back in regret at things I did or did not do or finally, if these thoughts make me look forward with trepidation at what my life will represent and if I will make it that long.
Sometimes expressing your deepest, personable thoughts that cling to you like plastic wrap but without the freshness.
I should laugh a little and enjoy the moment.
The names carried me to another time in professional hockey, which was not tainted by scandal, rising salaries and strikes. It also took me back to a time when I would sit with my dad and we would watch Hockey Night in Canada. I think that genetically, I was born to be a Habs fan. Watching the game tonight I saw names from the Canadiens dominant time that consumed most of the 1970s; I think they won like 6 Stanley Cups with four in a row from 76-79.
I saw Guy Lafleur (the flower), Pete Mahovolich, Yvan Cournoyer, Serge Savard, and more recent names from the 80s and 90s including Gaston Gingras, Guy Carrboneau, Chris Nilan, Benoit Brunet, Shane Corson, Stephane Richer.
I get feelings from a time that I cannot return to. A time when I was building memories with my dad that will grow deeper, more meaningful yet harder to retrieve as the years pass.
I think that almost every story I write I can attach to myself. Today for example, I covered a re-enactment of an MVA using the jaws of life for the high school's dry grad campaign; in the afternoon I was at the multi-level care unit. One era has passed by me on the train of life and the other may become my future; God only knows.
I'm not sure if these kind of thoughts make me more appreciative of my current life, or make me look back in regret at things I did or did not do or finally, if these thoughts make me look forward with trepidation at what my life will represent and if I will make it that long.
Sometimes expressing your deepest, personable thoughts that cling to you like plastic wrap but without the freshness.
I should laugh a little and enjoy the moment.
posted by strunken wagnall @ 10:56 PM
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