Tonight, the playoffs start for the Oilers. It happens to be on the 37th anniversary of their first Stanley Cup win in 1984, so that’s a bonus. It’s gotten me thinking, though, about what it’s meant to me over the years.
Growing up in Edmonton in the 80s, you could tell time by the Oilers playoff runs. Starting the second week of April, I always knew, or hoped, that by the time they were finished there would only be a month left of school. Not that I didn’t like school! Consistency and dominance defined them to the point that in my school years 8 times in 12 years they got to at least the Campbell Conference Final, in 6 the Stanley Cup Final, and of course they won it 5 times. The playoff clock was pretty spot on.
For a sports fan, you couldn’t have asked for a better place to be raised in my formative years. By the time I turned 15, my favourite hockey team had won 5 Stanley Cups and my beloved Edmonton Eskimos had won 7 Grey Cups. The Oilers were the spring tradition and come fall, you could plan in September on watching the Green and Gold in the Grey Cup. I was really fortunate and even realized that as a kid. Watching them win, seeing players like #99 in person multiple times over only enhanced my fanaticism.
This post, however, isn’t to wax poetic of Oilers post-seasons past, though trust me I could bore you all with random facts and trivia in my head (heck, I just finished listening to a playlist of old playoff theme songs). I’m writing this about appreciation. Appreciating things that matter to us and how they make us feel.
Thinking about Oilers playoff runs, I’m transported back to being a kid. To times of me organizing Oilers rallies at school, to being 5 feet from Wayne Gretzky at the ’84 Stanley Cup parade, but more to that indescribable feeling of caring about something that mattered so much to me. I wanted to be Andy Moog and these larger than life players had me care so deeply for something I had no control over.
In these times we’re in, I’ve come to realize periodically I’ve lost that ability to appreciate and celebrate. Everything feels so serious and dire, and I’ve let everything get that way. Life doesn’t have to be like that and steal from the joy of being a fan, or whatever excites or inspires you. That isn’t to ignore the serious and dire things in our world, but instead to better leverage those memories or moments of things we cherish to allow us to navigate tough situations.
I love being an Oilers fan, and despite a few down years, that’s been the case in my entire life. I get choked up watching an old highlight or a smile on my face when I look at the overboard number of jerseys I own. Those feelings may not relate to global issues, but are pretty core to who I am. And it’s long overdue that I appreciate them more. This spring seems like a good time to do just that.
Oh and…Go Oilers!
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