2009 Eastern Semi-Final – Turning it Around

Painting on Balsam

That sucked.

I am sure that was the mutual feeling amongst the Ti-Cats faithful Monday morning.

From that first story I posted on the ABNFF site, I have tried to focus on the positive. There were a couple of moments during Sunday’s game however, that brought out a little negativity in me. The first one being down by eleven points late in the fourth quarter, and of course, the moment the masses realized that all of our second chances had been used up. This wasn’t the way our first home playoff appearance in 8 years was supposed to end.

Now that I have that out of my system, when it comes to finding the positives in Sunday’s entire game day experience, it’s a matter of where do I start, rather than what do I say.

I am embarrassed as a Tiger-Cat fan and as a fan of the CFL in general, to say that until this Sunday past, I had never partaken in a tailgate party at Scott Park field. I have tossed the leather around and taken in some pre-game bands at the soccer field adjacent Ivor Wynne  (Brian Timmis Stadium), but I had never witnessed first hand, the full Hamilton home game experience.

My buddy Steve picked up our tickets from the Tigertown store earlier in the week, so that part of our day had already been taken care of. We also made plans to meet up at my place for around 10:30 in the morning, to soak up as much of the Lot J playoff pre-game  hoopla  as possible.

I had been fighting a cold the entire week and much of the weekend before; popping vitamins and trying to get plenty of rest, so I could truly enjoy a long awaited taste of late fall football. I woke up game day feeling great. I was ready by just after 10; eager about the days events. Unfortunately for my apologetic friend, he slept in, so when I was finally able to wake him from his slumber, it was around 11:30. I couldn’t blame him though. It was the weekend. My kids are up at the crack of 6:30 so I had no excuses not to be ready.

I walked over to the stadium ahead of him with a hungry belly, as I had been waiting to fill it with some of the great eats I have heard about from my Box J Boy neighbor.

Music filled the east end air, as I made my way to Ivor Wynne Stadium and across the street to Lot J; following my nose to the mixed smells of breakfast and lunch. Back bacon, sausages, hamburgers, and large cuts of roast pig; mostly just a carcass by the time I made my rounds of the parking lot.

I sauntered through the clouds of smoke wafting from under event tents and open mini-van tailgates. There were representatives from groups like 13thman.com, CFL Fans Fight Cancer, and the Box J Boys, among many others. Some full-size event barbecues, some right out of their backyards and off the back of their trucks, and even tiny hibachis were all adding to the smoked street-meat scents circling the ballpark grounds.

20,000 Flags, Black and Gold. Each one a different story to be told.

The lot was packed when I arrived, and the energy in the air across from the historical Ivor Wynne was a mix of enthusiasm and competition smiles. There were a lot of black and gold jersey’s from many generations of Tiger-Cats football, but there was plenty of Lions representation amongst the exuberant crowd as well.  The closest thing to a jacket with Cats colors I owned, was my  Bruins wind breaker; of which I was both harassed and hugged by a few happy drunkards that bled black and gold straight through. Many of them, like my father, were also steeltown fans to the core. That’s were I differed, and the  jersey I wore under my jacket, would engage itself in conversation and encourage comments of all sorts the rest of the afternoon in anticipation of the evenings matchup. The day truly was lined up to be a great day for football.

The weather, although overcast, was near perfect. There was next to know wind and it was warm enough, that it wasn’t long into the day, when my jacket found itself wrapped around my waist;  dawning my #12 jersey. ‘Brady sucks. Pats are going down. Dude, that is an awesome jersey. Pats are going to kick butt tonight.’ I just bought that jersey not too long ago, and I am hear to tell you I have never embarked on as much random conversation wearing it, as I did that Sunday. The same went for my friend wearing his black and silver Rice jersey. It’s fun listening to Raiders fans cry in each others beer. It seems not that long ago, before Bledsoe and CO started to turn the team around, that I was having similar conversations with New England fans. I guess it isn’t all that different from being a Cats fan last year, to a Tiger-Cats fan this year.

I found the CFL Fans Fight Cancer/13th Man tent first, where I bumped into a Hamilton fan I had befriended on Facebook via the ABNFF site (whom I had never before met), as well as a couple of other faces I knew from forums and other sites. It was great putting faces (or in some cases voices), to the names. I loaded a bun up with a couple large pieces of Canadian Bacon, and topped off my sandwich with condiments. I chatted with the group for awhile as I finished my lunch, and then headed over to finally check out the Box J Boys tent. I had been telling my neighbor that I was going to visit him since I first learned that he was part of  the Box J faithful. Finally I had seen first hand, what all the excitement was about – how the other fans lived.

I ran into a few friends I hadn’t seen in awhile, chatted up some Bruins loving strangers, before my friend finally arrived. We were able to enjoy another twenty minutes of the retreating Lot J crowd, before making our way into the stadium.

My freind Steve and I not watching the game.

My friend was amazed at how clean the tailgating area was. He had been to a few Bills games over the years, so he was used to the disaster that is the surrounding area after those events. Thousands of empty beer cans scattered everywhere. I was able to take in my first NFL game late last December in support of keeping the Bills and the NFL south of the border, so I had a clear visual to compare, and Scott Park was spotless. I had talked to my neighbor about this point before. On the  BoxJBoys.ca  site, there is actually a tailgating etiquette page; or simply Tailgating 101, that discusses respecting the privilege Cats fans enjoy, being able to use Scott Park field for such a purpose. There is a mutual respect amongst the city, the Cats organization, and the usual pre-game suspects, and that respect shone through as the lot cleared out, and slowly moved into the adjacent stadium – leaving the grass as green as when the first vehicle entered the grounds.

I think this agreement, is something our city, our team, and our league, can be proud of. It’s a privilege I’d like hate to see our fans lose. I also hope that with the birth of a new stadium in the coming years, an open field; similar in nature to Scott Park, is made available with the same handshake agreement between all parties. I have only now been to one, but I plan on enjoying many more before the final memory is cast into our hearts at 75 Balsam Avenue North.

We made our way into the stadium and up to row W in section 21; the wind practically at our backs. The crowd was electric and the yellow towels generously donated by Blair Turner, added a nice touch to the already crazy playoff crowd. It reminded me a bit of a playoff hockey game with the white towels waving in the air. Except ours were gold.

Eight years seems like forever. The last playoff moment I can visualize is in 1998, when Ozzy booted a field goal in the dying seconds of the game to send us to face Calgary in the first of back-to-back Grey Cup appearances – both versus the Stamps. I was in the stands at Ivor Wynne with my father and uncles and cousins for that game. I remember all of us jumping for joy; high fives from everyone within reaching distance. Hugs and eyes welled up with tears. Our Tiger-Cats were heading to the Grey Cup.

There was a great group of college and university aged fans around my friend and I this past Sunday. They were having a lot of fun, yet were very respectable to everyone around them. That definitely added to the excitement and enjoyment of that day.

Sunday’s game was one of those afternoons, where enjoying the experience and catching up with family and friends, means a few missed plays. By the time we found our seats after half-time, a good portion of the third quarter was over. Between chatting amongst the group around us and browsing the crowd, it probably wasn’t until around half way through the fourth quarter, when suddenly I was oblivious to everything and everyone around me; focused on the score. We were down by eleven and nothing seemed to be clicking. This wasn’t the way this day was supposed to play out.

Final score after four.

We did finally march down the field, but much to the dismay of the hungry Hamilton crowd, we settled for 3; left with an eight point deficit and the clock working against us.

Tick. Tick. Tick, and then suddenly, we started to drive down field once more. One last chance. One final opportunity in the dying seconds of the game, to change our destiny.

Touchdown! The roar of the stadium the moment we scored that major, wasn’t unlike that Ozzy moment all those years ago. We were still down by two so there was no choice but to go for the two pointer. The tension in the air was unbearable. They lined up. The snap, and the entire stadium was sent jumping into the air. High fives and gold flags flinging with sheer exuberance. We were going to overtime. Destiny was still within reach. This was now a story to reminiscence about, looking back at the many memorable moments at Ivor Wynnes Stadium. If a home playoff game wasn’t enough for the restless faithful, overtime was an added treat to an already amazing day.

The plays that followed that highlight real comeback, turned a wild hometown crowd, into a dead silence, but when the disappointment finally passed and the stadium started to clear, I couldn’t help but look back at the final game at Ivor Wynne last year, and what a difference a year makes. From a feeling of where do we go from here, to this team is going to compete for the cup in the coming seasons, did give Hamilton fans something to not only appreciate, but look forward to over the long, cold winter months.

The stands were almost empty by the time we started to make our way down the stairs. Being a part of the player appreciation at the end of the last home game of the year, has become something that I have enjoyed the past couple of seasons. There were many more fans that stayed behind this year, but last year was special in a different way. When the fans applaud their team as they exit the field for the last time – especially after a disappointing season like last year, it is a touching gesture of ultimate respect. At the end of the day, we love this team, and it’s comforting to see so many are behind this organization – win or lose.

One last meal in 2009

As we turned to head down the stadium steps one final time in 2009, we noticed a flock of seagulls occupying our seats; enjoying one last IWS meal.

In the coming days, the lights will turn down for the winter months. The players will clean out their locker rooms, and Ivor Wynne will be prepared for off-season hibernation. I’ll drive by on my way to work every day until the first fan steps into the stands in 2010; waiting to sit atop the stadium. Looking out into the warm Hamilton air, and welcoming back our boys of summer.

Of course, the season isn’t over. There is still plenty of football to go; including the Grey Cup which Calgary will host, and perhaps have a chance to be a part of.

Thank-you to the Cats organization, and all those that took part in the game day experience at Ivor Wynne this year. It was a fun summer.

Congratulations also to Casey Printers and the Lions, and good luck to all teams in the next weeks division finals.

There are a few scenarios I’d like to see play out. Like Cavillio and the Als completing their remarkable season with a Grey Cup win, or the host town enjoying the rare thrill of hoisting a Grey Cup in front of their home crowd. Perhaps Saskatchewan adding to their recently rising cup titles. Even Casey Printers finally slipping on a Grey Cup ring would make a good story.

But there truly isn’t a bad matchup in this great league.

One last special thanks as well, to all those who participated in our ABNFF Your Stories giveaway’s this year. I truly enjoyed reading all of them, as I know so many readers enjoyed reading them.

Last Exit

Sunday truly was a beautiful day for football.

What a ride.