If international readers want to know a Canadian experience, today is the day!
Sunday morning at 6:30. The sun has not even crept over the mountains and the alarm clocks buzzes to bring us slowly back to life.
Day 3 of a hockey tournament that my son could not participate in due to strep throat but today is a day that the Olympic torch is coming and my son wants to play hockey and see the torch.
He can’t play, but is able to put on his game Jersey and sit on the bench to cheer on his teammates. Rumor has it as well that the flame will make a pit stop at the arena because there are so many kids playing in the tournament.
My wife are in the stands, cheering on our team, even though our kid isn’t playing. But it isn’t about if your kid is playing. It is about the experience of being at the rink, in January cheering on your boys. The team. Wife wife does not fully understand that, but she is a trooper and cheers as loudly as anyone.
The kids and coaches swell over the ice and a guy holds up this tiny little spark in a lantern. I yelled out it is the Olympic Lantern. People laugh thinking that I was joking, but I was not. It really was the Olympic Lantern.
I am not dismayed by it. I find it still to be a little moment in history that I will remember for a very long time. The flame leaves and the hockey resumes. Our little guys won by the way 6-1.
My wife figures that is not going to be her Olympic moment. So after the hockey game and getting pictures with Tommy Biln (an Olympian form the 1960’s games and a very nice guy and a pretty good golfer to) my wife decides that she is going to drive to Rossland, to capture the moment of them running, holding the torch held high.
Sipping on hot chocolate, my two youngest think that this is a great idea. Me, I like the idea of coming home, cranking up the wood stove and watch lazy snowflakes fall from the sky.