BY KRIS LINDBERG
She was born that very year of 1972 as announcer Foster Hewitt’s words echoed loudly over the TV and radios, “They score! Henderson has scored for Canada!” We had just beat the Russians.
As a nation we were proudly holding our flag high for our achievement against our adversaries that through a war that had run cold, it could no longer withstand the warmth from the joy our country felt, as we called a game our own.
She stood awkwardly at first but as she grew and was raised with care everyone knew she was one special lady there.
She began to have the understanding of our love for this game. She watched and learned with so many, some pushing chairs to start, others skated on their own, lovers holding hands and she wished she could try it just once as her love grew too.
Her love for the game, the people and community was so engulfing that she was never lonely for long and even though she wished she could, she knew in her heart she never would.
As the years passed by she took comfort with the love that was inside her. Every day they would come together as one, cheering, chanting, laughing and even crying, perhaps as someone scored their first goal — together they were a family.
She found happiness as she aged by imagining that they were all there for her. She kept them safe and warm and nestled them close as they all grew both children and adults.
People came from all around creating memories together that spanned generations.
This fairy tale does not end well, for with age and time all things must end and after the last player left she said, “this is my time you cannot chose mine!”
Though she tried, she was too weak from all the years, so she yelled to let the last one know, that this was the hour, it was time to go.
With a single cry she said her last goodbye and down she fell and as she drew her last cold breath, it was without a fight that the beautiful lady passed into the night.