Quiet as a Church Moose?

The Manitoba Moose lost yesterday–in Game 6 of the Calder Cup Final. They came out “flat footed” as the hockey writers would say, and were down 3 goals really quickly. The Moose scored the only goals of the second period, but had some good chances. In the third period, with a couple of minutes left, they pull the goalie in a frantic attempt to get a couple of quick ones…it was exciting, the puck was near the opposition’s net a lot, but it didn’t go in. And then, with 25 seconds or so left in the game, the puck made it’s way back down to the Moose empty net. The score–now 4-1.

Our goalie goes back in net, and both teams line up at center ice to play out the game, the dying seconds merely a formality, as Winnipeggers realize that the Moose would not win the cup.

I was at the game–couldn’t miss it with some major hockey fans in my life desperate to go. What happened next made my Winnipeg therapist heart proud. At the drop of the puck, people started clapping.

Then they started standing.

And by 10 seconds left in the game, with our team losing, the cup lost, the hopes dashed, players clearly devastated, the 15,000 plus fans were on our feet, giving a long, sustained standing ovation to the team we hold as our own. The team that worked hard, played hard, and came close. We wanted them to know that we knew that, and loved it–loved them.

Sure, there was disappointment–huge. Everyone likes to win. And there was a sense at the end of the game, that we had won something–won the chance to have the dream of winning well into June, won the pride that happens when a team makes it into the finals after only being around for something like 9 years.

Randy Turner wrote a column in the Winnipeg Free Press today that says the fans left the arena ‘Quiet as church Moose”…he’s right in saying that there was no drunken party at Portage and Main, dancing in the streets and so on. But I’m not sure how he missed 15,000 screaming fans yelling “GO MOOSE GO” over and over and over with pride when, after the buzzer, the Moose players gathered around each other in abject disappointment.

They made it to the finals. It was a good ride–an exciting one. And we knew it–and we let them know it.

Reminded me of the importance of being a fan to the people in my life–to cheer them on even it’s disappointing. To find something to celebrate in the midst of loss. To realize that “there’s always next year” after failure. To look for that which can be encouraged, even when there is much to be angry about.