Uniquely Recalling The First Winter Classic
By Adam Savard
One week before the inaugural NHL Winter Classic, events were set in motion that could have kept the average fan away from the game they love. My fandom, however, is occasionally insane.
When the Winter Classic was first scheduled in Buffalo in 2008 it seemed like an experiment, not an annual event. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was looking at a once in a lifetime event right in my backyard in Buffalo and I was going to miss it.
See, the week before the game I spent a good part of an evening in the local emergency room with a freak eye injury. In short if you know someone that bowls, make sure they don’t get any of the hand-drying rosin in their eye by accident. It will glue your eyelid to your cornea and you won’t realize it until you open your eyes at 1am. It was every bit as joyous as it sounds.
As January 1st approached my wife, whom was supposed to go with my sister and I to the game, fell ill with the flu. And on the morning of the game, she decided she was not going to accompany us. And, bless her loving heart, she tried with all she had to convince me to stay home with her.
Have I mentioned she was five months pregnant yet?
So there I stood in my living room staring at the love of my life, carrying our first son, listening to her attempt to negotiate my surrender of the golden ticket. And I could hardly see her because I could not open my left eye. How much of the game was I going to see, let alone enjoy?
Well let me tell you I sat on those metal benches in the end zone as one of the few fans wearing sunglasses on a day where the temperature hovered around 30 degrees, the clouds never broke and the snow flew as the game progressed. There were snowball fights, cheering from both legions of fans, and a storybook ending for the NHL as Sidney Crosby came down on Ryan Miller in a shootout to decide the game.
And in between we enjoyed the game with over 71,000 of our closest friends. The atmosphere was unlike any game I have ever experienced, and you could sense many of the fans around us felt the same way. There wasn’t a division by the crest you rooted for as much as a standard game. There was a sense of community in the stadium that day, a feeling that we were a part of something magical. I was in awe of everything – the tailgating and anticipation before the game, the excitement of the game itself, and walking away feeling the pure childhood joy of the game I loved. Even in a 2-1 shootout loss.
If you have a ticket to the 2015 Bridgestone NHL Winter Classic in Washington, D.C. do everything you can to get to that game. I know this is an annual event now and there have been more outdoor games, including the Heritage Classic series. But I defy you to tell me that outdoor hockey doesn’t create the greatest live regular season experience.
Let neither snow, nor torn cornea, nor sick (and possibly pregnant) spouse at home keep the ravenous hockey fan from his or her appointed seat assignment. I am with you in spirit.