It goes fast.
I’ve been trying to find the right words. I’m staring out at the ocean. How can the world seem so infinite and yet so small…
Hearing that call from Osh the other day, feeling an entire era tumbling down in a moment. A wave traveling the entirety of the sea just to crash.
I got released at the Sydney airport. My wife didn’t believe me.
“Winnipeg released me.”
She thinks I’m playing a joke.
My daughter eats a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich, watching a show about a talking horse. Trying to explain we won’t be going back to Winnipeg.
“Okay but can we get my toys still?”
I can’t help but laugh. My son, not four months, hangs closely to his mom and drools. I wish they never had to feel what I feel right now. I wish they never had to hear goodbye. I know they will. We all do.
And I’ve come to terms with it now. The shock has worn off. Pieces have moved; people have waved farewell.
A hell of a run, ladies and gentlemen. A HELL OF A RUN.
I didn’t want this to be sad. Only the end is sad. I can see so many faces pass me by in my mind as I write this. I can see their smiles, hear their yells, remember their tears.
I remember Darvin Adams grilling by the lakeside during a training camp afternoon.
The OG’s there. Stan, Yoshi, Demski, Dressler, Law, Nichols, Strev. That was the early days when I was just a boy afraid that any day I would get cut. Trying to make a play a day. I didn’t know it then how special those guys were. How much they influenced me to do things the right way.
My second training camp I roomed with this guy in the dorms. His name was Adam Bighill. Had no idea who we was or what we had accomplished. We played guitar in the dorms. He played “One Last Breath” by Creed. I still remember it.
We went to the Cup that year in ‘19. I remember looking at Strev the morning of the game and saying, “At the end of this day. We are either gonna be champs or we are gonna lose. Either way, our whole world is gonna change.”
And it changed everything. I kept telling myself all week, “I deserve to be a champion.” And we were. And it was….
The Parade through town. The fur coat. Cigars. Beers from the cup. Champagne in the eyes.
“The pain of a champion.”
Listening to Bob Dylan with Zach in our lockers. Singing about fare thee well. Ironic because 2020 didn’t come to fruition. Football was off and I was living in a new reality where I had a summer all to myself.
I guess I couldn’t resist being away from Winnipeg because that’s where I found myself. Holed up by the Seine River, watching beavers and turtles swim gently in the afternoon. I played music. A lot of it. I traveled around Winnipeg, out of the city; Brandon, Lake Manitoba, Oxford House, Pinawa, Gimli.
I got to meet real people. Longtime fans. Longtime supporters.
I got to experience a winter…
And just like that back-to-back champs the next year in ‘21. Come from behind in OT to Darv for the win. Sheed and I yelling on the sideline, “WE’RE GONNA WIN THIS F****ING GAME!!”
I felt like everything was going right. I was high on life. I couldn’t ever see us losing.
But nothing is final. The beauty and the curse of this game.
It’s why we should have celebrated every win because Humbling times were coming. Heartbreak over and over and over. I’ve never seen a more resilient team to do it again and again. To put their hearts on the line and not get to hoist that trophy. It made us closer in the way only loss can bring people together. Stronger shared together.
It hurt every time.
We love this game the same reason we fear it. It’s finite. It’s fleeting. The spotlight moves swiftly and without remorse. It stopped being about the clout for me a long time ago. For me it’s in the small print.
The post-game sessions in the parking lot at the hangar after a win. Reminiscing on what just went down on the field. Sharing stories. All sides of the ball. 12 people always doing something different to make the thing work. More than 12. It takes everybody.
Al Couture and his training staff fixing our broken bodies all year.
Morning blitz meetings. Buck, Burgs, Hogan, Marty. Getting on the same page.
Messing around with the O line. “Roger Hard Lui Hard.” —That’s for Chris K. Funniest guys in the world. So underrated.
The locker room chaos. Kenny Lawler’s speaker in the sauna.
The eggs. The potatoes. Brent Tuck the legend who never deserved us but loved us anyway.
Fotty and K Todd thank you for the 10,000 pairs of gloves. I will miss you guys so much trying to corral Stan from his locker at the end of the day.
Brayden Miller, strength coach and sometimes yogi, you have the most patience of any man I’ve ever met. I will miss you, but I can truthfully say I will not miss the 300-metre sprints this year.
Darren and Matt G, without you guys we would be absolutely lost. Bless you for always keeping your phone on and always being there when we needed you.
Ed Tait, you need to be the next head coach of the Bombers. I love your passion for this team and how much it means to you.
The video and media gurus. Thank you for letting me play with snakes and singing for the fans. You guys are the life of the party.
Carol, Rhéanne, everyone upstairs. James, too. You guys are truly special. You connect us all to the community and it makes the game mean so much more.
Lastly, Osh. You pushed me to be a better leader and a better man. You taught me to have respect whilst demanding the most from myself and others. I will never forget you or the lessons I’ve learned from you. It’s been a honour playing under you.
I leave out so many names and so many memories. Some of those memories are closed off for the public. Sorry, you had to be there!
I wish I could write a list down and give you all your due credit. But you know who you are. And you know what we shared.
Thank you for welcoming my family and I into this community. Allowing me opportunity to live with you all. Opportunity for me to entertain you and share space and energy. To spill your truths to me and to help shape my life.
I’m in the works of putting together one last show/get-together. To go out l the way I want to. Saying goodbye face to face. To embrace this town one last time.
Leaving, feeling like a champion.
Singing fare thee well, my darlin’, fare thee well.
