By Bob Hughes
The 2010 Grey Cup game in Edmonton this Sunday will be the first Grey Cup of the 98 that have been played which will be remembered, in part, for the surreal site of 60,000 fans going completely silent, standing up, and, in unison, counting to 12 every time the Montreal Alouettes line up for a field goal.
They will be counting how many players the Saskatchewan Roughriders have on the field in Commonwealth Stadium.After all, isn’t that what this is all about?Isn’t the 2010 Grey Cup more about the Saskatchewan Roughriders exorcising a demon than it is anything else?
After all, getting into Grey Cups, and even winning the occasional one, is old hat around this place. You do know this will be their third Grey Cup appearance in four years, right?They are very close to becoming a dynasty in the CFL.
Believe it, they are.But, they have to shake what happened almost precisely a year ago in Calgary in the Grey Cup game. They had the game, and the cup, in the bag when Damon Duval missed a game-winning field goal on the last play.
Flags flew, people gasped, and everybody was horrified when it was revealed that 60 minutes into the game, the Riders had failed math. They had 13 men on the field, one more than permitted. Duval got to kick again, made it from 33 yards out, the Alouettes won 28-27, and the term, 13th Man, took on a whole new dark meaning.
The Rider Prider who showed up at the game proudly waving a sign which proclaimed “The 13th Man Is Your Worst Nightmare” quickly ditched it.Would they ever recover? My friend Jarrod, the Wheelchair King of Uplands, told me in June they would be in this year’s Grey Cup game.
From the infancy of this season, from the night of the home opener when the Riders mashed the Alouettes in double overtime on July 1 in Taylor Field, on the same night they were again called for too many men on the field, getting to Sunday in Calgary has been what this season has been all about, whether they want to admit it or not.
The Roughriders lived one the worst moments any professional team could ever live. You would not wish something like this on even your worst enemy.
It is too cruel. They lost a championship because of their own error.
They were hoisted on their own petard, in front of millions of people. And, this was something that would never go away. Never.
Most teams might never recover from something like this. This was one of the biggest blunders in sports history. It could have been enough to send the Roughriders crumbling on the rocks of utter ruination. It could have torn the team apart. They could have become useless.
But, they didn’t. How they didn’t, I don’t know. But they took this thing on head first, and in a steely silence. They never did say who the 13th man was. They never pointed fingers, not one of them. Instead, they rallied around that prince of a man named Ken Miller, who kept pointing them forward, and wouldn’t let them look backward.
It was if this 69-year-old grandfather figure took them in his arms, cradled them, and kept them together.Life serves up terrible moments. It also brings forth wonderful moments, stories of courage and tenacity, and believing in yourself, even when all around may not.
From the moment the 2010 season started, the Riders were on a mission and perhaps it was a good thing that it began with a double overtime win over Montreal. Because that’s who the nightmare began with.This season of redemption had its moments of joy and despair. It was smooth as honey at times, and as rocky as a ride on the Atlantic in a winter storm at other times.
But through it all came this light at the end of the tunnel that seemed to burn brighter and brighter, and the Riders followed it, becoming as one with each passing week, knowing that this time, if they stuck together, the light at the end would not turn out to be a runaway freight team.
Sunday in Calgary, they found themselves at the corner of Resolve and Despair. One wrong turn, it would be over.If anybody has learned anything about this edition of the Riders, it is visit with your neighbours, write a letter to a long lost friend, take the dog for a walk during the first quarter.
Because the first quarter, sometimes even the first half, doesn’t matter to these guys. They think it’s the warm-up act for the main event. They play like they’re still in the dressing room sucking back a soft drink, or playing with their cel phone.
Then, it’s like the hotel operator sends out a message. “Time to get awake.”And, they do. Darian Durant is a demon when he decides the time has come.
I heard somebody compare him to Ron Lancaster. No. Darian Durant is more like Michael Vick.
An athlete who can throw. A competitor who can’t wait to seize the moment. And, he is surrounded by a cast of players who are exceptional, gifted, focused and on fire right now.You likely have no idea, none of us do, how high the mountain has been since the Riders left limp-spirited out of McMahon Stadium a year ago.
But, their spirit was not broken by that error of basic math. If anything, it somehow was strengthened. They became the truest definition of a team in the months after. And, yesterday, on a cold and frigid prairie winter day, you saw it for what it was.They may truly be unstoppable. Stay tuned. As the doctor said when he handed the fourth Dionne baby over, “
Don’t go away, this thing ain’t over with yet.”Y’er welcome.(Bob Hughes column sponsored by Exit Realty Fusion. http://www.exitrealtyfusion.com/)
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