By: Paul Edwards
As a child, my first memories of professional football are of my brother and I, along with our cousins running the painted turf of Ivor Wynne Stadium during the annual Tiger-Cats autograph sessions of the early 1980’s.
It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how fortunate I was to have this sort of access to the hometown players and the stadium in which they made their living. While I don’t remember every player whose autograph I collected religiously on any piece of paper I could find, there will always be certain ones that stick in my mind. Names like Les Browne, Paul Bennett, Rufus Crawford and Wally Zatylny just to name a few.
I grew up with these larger than life figures right in front of my eyes, and when my family couldn’t make it down to East Hamilton for a game I found myself trying to find a television that carried the game or attempting to carefully tune my fathers radio to AM 900. I will always remember the Grey Cup parties we attended when the Tiger-Cats handily defeated the Edmonton Eskimos and won it all in 1986.
Looking back on my life as a Tiger-Cats fan, there will always be one game that stands out in my memory because I lived the emotional roller coaster along with the 27,000 plus at a cold Ivor Wynne Stadium. Just thinking about that game causes me to break out in goose bumps.
My family had two tickets to the Eastern Division final in 1998 and when it came to decide who in our family was going to use them; my parents did the noble thing and gave them to my brother and I. (It was either their nobility or they knew they didn’t want to sit in the November cold for 3 hours).
The playoff game proceeded like any CFL game would. The wild shifts in momentum, great coaching on both sidelines, and the clutch first down throws from Danny McManus to Darren Flutie that Ticats fans quickly became accustomed to since Ron Lancaster brought them both from Edmonton. But it wasn’t until the end of this game that I got to experience the euphoria first hand. I had witnessed many Labour Day beatings of the arch rival Argonauts, but nothing like this.
When the Alouettes went ahead in the final minute of the fourth quarter, I looked at my brother and sunk in to my frozen seat. I couldn’t believe that the Tiger-Cats had let it all slip away. My brother reassured me that the game wasn’t over yet, but in my head I knew it was. I looked the people around me and I could see the disappointment in their faces, but as I was looking around, mostly with my head pointed towards the ground, a sliver of hope traced around the stadium as a solid kick return was followed by a quick Danny McManus strike to set up a long field goal attempt.
And out from the sidelines trotted was our soon-to-be hero of TigerTown Paul Osbaldiston. With the entire crowd standing and their collective breath held in unison, Ozzie drove that ball 52 yards directly in to the teeth of that cold Canadian wind. You didn’t even have to see it split the uprights to know the result. The roar of the crowd, Alouettes head coach Dave Ritchie falling to his knees, and my brother and I hugging each other and random fans we never spoke a word to in our lives, told you the result.
With that kick, the Tiger-Cats were off to the Grey Cup and Paul Osbaldiston had created my favourite TigerTown moment.
It was my favourite moment in my life as a Tiger-Cat fan, and while I will always remember it, I look forward to the day when I can replace it atop my list when I witness the next great Tiger-Cat moment whether it is in 2008 or in 2048 when I am enjoying Tiger-Cat games with future generations of Ticat fans. Oskee Wee Wee!
