As a ten year old boy from South America arriving in Montreal on May 10, 1990 was on it's own, quite an experience. I'll the story of how I ended up there for another time. This is how that one faithful day I met Nick and Costa playing right outside their house. We weren't next door neighbors but pretty close. On Wiseman right off Jean-Talon in what is known as Parc X (Parc extension) They saw me looking at them, curious, and wondering why they were hitting that tennis ball into the net. I had never seen or heard of hockey. Not on TV not on the news, nothing. I guess they took a liking to me because they invited me to play with them. Back then I spoke English and was lucky enough they did too. That first time holding the stick and getting a pass and wacking the ball into the net, I probably failed a few times but once I did. That feeling of making contact with the ball without stopping it, the one timer. It's one of my favorites. That day started a long passion for hockey one I'm sure many can relate to. Soon after I got my own stick. Then it became a ritual to play after lunch and when school started the after school hockey was automatic. I've been to many places in North America, hockey cities in their own right. Minnesota, Toronto, Edmonton etc. Montreal is arguably the most hockey crazy. My first year in school you heard about it everywhere. At first it didn't mean anything. "Did you see the save Roy made?" was a popular saying. Little by little hockey culture overtakes you. I was into sports but I think even so, it's just part of the school yard culture. Once you start looking into the history, the legends, the 23 cups (at the time) you're just overwhelmed by all of it. Reading about The Rocket Richard and his 50 goals or the riot because he got suspended. Jaques Plante , Scotty Bowman, Guy Lafleur the list just goes on. I would go to the library and take out record books, books about the history of the team, the history of the cup.
Then it happened. I'm not going to lie, I didn't watch hockey religiously. I still don't. I followed it through the news paper or hockey night in Canada. I knew what was happening but I could not tell you about their farm team back then or how that goal by Muller looked the day after. However, when the playoffs started it was a different story. I was 13 years old at the time and they set a record 11 overtime wins. I remember quite a few players from that team but there was two that just stood out for me, Kirk Muller was probably my first sports hero, but no other player captivated me more than Patrick Roy. The confidence, his butterfly style, the last minute efforts that alone was enough to keep you on your feet. That year they went all the way and lifted a 24th Stanley Cup at the Montreal forum. Hockey brings people together and nowhere is that more evident than in Montreal where once the playoffs start English and French and Spanish and Italian and Greek and Hindu and that big melting pot of cultures just forgets everything and becomes hockey crazy. It doesn't matter where you are from the city and the team have a way of making it about hockey. It's reach go far and beyond Canada's borders, it's not uncommon for people outside the country to cheer for them. I've played baseball, basketball, soccer and I enjoy it but it doesn't compare to the feeling I get when I play hockey. I go back to being a kid and and think about the players that have played here and how they gave people so much to cheer for. I hope I get to experience that again, except this time around with my son. The way they're playing lately, you never know maybe the 25th one will be my son's first.
