By: Gord Clark
Being a fan of the Hamilton Tiger-cats football team is something that gets passed down from generation to generation. It is quite often as much about heritage as it is about the teams’ performance on any given game night.
As a young man my father moved to Hamilton from his native Campbellton, New Brunswick in the late 1950’s. He began working at Dofasco. His first experience at a pro sporting event was a Ticat-Argo game at Civic Stadium, which would later become of Ivor Wynne Stadium. He instantly became a fan for life.
As a little boy my first sporting memories were Ticat games and even Hamilton Redwing games. I can still almost remember every smell and sight of the games my father brought me to.
We moved away from Hamilton when I was just about 10 years old, but I was more than hooked on being a Ticat fan by that time. Even when we lived in Northern Ontario my younger brother and I planned out every detail of our Labour Day from the frozen pizzas before the game, to our pre-game meal, to the ice cream bars at half-time, to the clothing we would wear to watch the game and of course the guess at the final score always a Hamilton win (most times we got the win part right.)
The years have passed and I have never missed watching a Labour Day game. I wound up living in Milton Ontario and my wife decided she just had to try going to this “Ivor Wynne” place even though she did not know much about football but she figured if I liked it she might as well. It took one quarter for her to become a fan. The people and the experience of Ivor Wynne was so great that within a week she ordered tickets for the Labour Day Classic that was to follow a month later and of course that game was fabulous.
I moved again and it had been a few years since I could work out going to a game. By this time, we had a son, who had been told about, Angelo Mosca, Garney Henley, Ian Sunter, Chuck Ealey, Earl Winfield, Ben Zambiasi, Rocky DiPietro and more. He had watched several videos of the Ticats over and over. He had seen Darren Flutie, Danny McManus et al. He had heard all the stories about me going to Ivor Wynne with his grandfather, his uncle and even his mom.
It was time for him to go. So last year, we decided to go to the Calgary game. His newest hero was Jesse Lumsden. It was a three-hour ride and he talked the whole way there. I hadn’t been able to purchase the tickets ahead of time so I was a little afraid that the game might be sold out. We arrived at Ivor Wynne and the magnificence of the old stadium had my son’s jaw on the ground even before we went in.
We got in line to purchase our tickets. As we were standing there a gentleman, neatly attired probably in his late sixties early seventies approached me. He asked me if I needed tickets to the game to which I replied in the affirmative.
He reached out his hand and said, “here take these, my daughter and grandson, were coming tonight but she was in a fender bender a couple of days ago and they won’t make it. I thought I would wait around and see if someone could use them. “
I asked if she was okay and he said that she was fine. I asked if I could give him something for the tickets and he simply said, “No just go and enjoy the game.”
I told him that it was my son’s first game; he smiled widely then simply moved on.
I never got his name but believe me my son and I will never forget his generosity.
I have no doubt this man had probably seen dozens of games over many, many seasons but his act of kindness was wonderful. We hadn’t even gone in yet and the trip had been very memorable.
We entered the stadium at the end zone and grabbed a couple of hotdogs, they were delicious. We went up the first level of the stairs and as we did the stadium almost seemed to open up in front of us. My son was awestruck and I couldn’t get the smile off of my face watching him. It was like seeing me in him some 35 years or so after I had gone.
The game was great as the Ticats game from behind in the second half with Richie Williams replacing Casey Printers, after Printers injured his hamstring near the end of the first half. In perfect Hamilton tradition, a pass was knocked down by a Ticat defensive back on the last play of the game.
We hooped, hollered and had a fantastic time, and I couldn’t help but think of my own Dad as I watched my son enjoy the same experience I had had decades earlier.
You see, it has always been and will always be true, that being a Ticat fan is part of who you are. It is about enjoying something with your family and friends for decade after decade. It is about lifelong memories, of wins, losses, playoffs and Grey Cups.
Oh yes, it is true, it is only a game but it is a wonderful game which in three hours on a summer or fall evening at Ivor Wynne can give generational memories. There is something special about the players who play in the CFL for even though they are being paid, the salary structure seems to show that they play as much for the love of the game of football as for any kind of mega contract. This allows the average person the ability to relate to the players far more than in any other professional sport. Add to that that there are roster spots for Canadians and it is easy to see why even with all kinds of challenges to the league over the years. The CFL and the Hamilton Tiger-Cats remain and they remain as part of our collective Canadian heritage as much as part of our sports scene.
I hope I live long enough to go to a game when my son has children of his own. Then I will sit and tell them about the time, I went with my Dad, or with my wife, or with their Dad. Well, that’s probably not true; I’ll tell them as soon as they are old enough to understand. It’s important to pass these things on from generation to generation.
