All or Something Else

I was 14 years-old when the Montreal Canadiens won their 22nd Stanley Cup in 1979. It was the year of Guy Lafleur's iconic game-seven tying goal against the Boston Bruins in the semis. Other than that, I don't remember much. When the Canadiens finally hoisted the cup at the hallowed Forum, I was in bed. As I recall, my brother woke me up to share the news. I can barely remember what I said, but it was probably something like 'oh, great,' before turning off the light, rolling over and going back to sleep.

For kids growing up in 1970s Montreal, Stanley Cup victories had become old hat. That's not to say we weren't huge fans of the club, we all knew we were part of something special. The few times I got to see a game at the old Forum, you could literally feel the history. There was a sense of being among heros past and present. The sights, sounds and smells are still quite vivid.

Despite it's mythical place in Montreal culture, hockey did not preoccupy our lives to the extent it does today. There were no 24/7 sports channels or dedicated websites or blogs or Twitter. Weeknight hockey games were rarely televised and hockey was a topic of casual conversation that fell somewhere between weather and politics. When summer arrived, hockey was put on a shelf with our gloves and toques, stored away with the skates and winter coats.

In 2016 it seems virtually impossible to be a fan of the Montreal Canadiens without experiencing a relentless stream of information, spin, opinion and speculation about the team. This has become the case for most pro sports today. Supporting a favourite team in the modern era is more than a preoccupation, it is a nonstop conversation that lasts all year long.

Spend an hour or two on Twitter any given day and you'll witness unending arguments about players, coaches, general managers and officials. You will also be privvy to more than a few conspiracy theories telling you what is really going on. On game night, the conversations become more pointed and arguments become personal attacks. It's an exaggerated reality that magnifies success and failure to full blown histrionics, torching friendships and occassionally disolving into cultural and racial attacks.

I suppose this is the reality of social media itself, the online equivalent of people in cars shouting obscenities at others with the windows closed.

I get that people are passionate about their team (and I fully admit my own) but here's the thing, in sports, as in life, it is possible to have a contrary opinion without being abusive or derogatory. It is possible to be happy with your team's success without disparaging fans of the other team. It is possible to win gracefully and to lose gracefully.

At the same time, people are entitled to comment on, and be critical of, what they see. If an opinion does not mesh with your own, it shouldn't be interpreted as an attack on you personally. It's also important to recognize satire and not take everything we see so seriously. Humour is often the best way to deflate anger brought on by frustration. These are not just good guidelines for social media, but also for life in general.

Maybe there is a lesson to be learned from the days when hockey did not occupy so much time and space. And no, this isn't a call to return to the 'good ol' days' because they weren't all that good, but we might find disconnecting from the 24/7 media cycle will make watching sports more enjoyable. 

Maybe what we need most is to turn off the light, roll over and get a good night's sleep.