NOTE: The following giveaway is open to Canadians only.
The year was 2004. I was vacationing with my then-boyfriend in beautiful Quebec City, spending four days over a New Year’s long weekend. We shopped, we ate, we visited museums and took pictures in the quaint city. The snow fell at a steady pace and we felt as if we had been transported to a winter wonderland. It was blissful.
Towards the end of our vacation, the boyfriend turned from the newspaper in excitement. “The Océanic are in town!” he exclaimed. “Who?” I questioned in response. “What?”
“I really want to see them play,” he continued without missing a beat. “There’s a player on the team who’s pegged to be the next Gretzky.”
He made a call to the hotel concierge who assured us that tickets would be easy to obtain from the box office at the arena. I hemmed and hawed at the idea of spending my last day of vacation watching minor league hockey, but I acquiesced when I saw how excited he was.
That night, I watched a fast-paced game of hockey at the Colisée Pepsi. The venue was intimate; a crowd of about 4,000 Quebecois cheered on their team, the Quebec Remparts. It was my first experience at a minor league game, and I was duly impressed with the heart and ferocity of the players on the ice. But that wasn’t why we were there.
“There he is,” the boyfriend said, pointing to a player on the opposing team. “Watch him play and remember his name. You’ll be hearing about him again.”
That player was Sydney Crosby.
(Photo: Ottawa Sun) Imagine. I watched Sydney Crosby play before he was a household name. I watched him score two goals and lead his team to victory; I watched as he skillfully maneuvered the puck with a superstar-like talent. And even though I didn’t know it at the time, the then-boyfriend was correct: I did hear about him again. (more…)