Hockey fan’s 1,400-kilometre northern pilgrimage to watch three OHL games becomes eye-opening journey into the human experience and several communities
Last month I lamented in this space as per the passing of some sweet senior souls. Such was the sadness, it cast a shadow over my normally all-in enthusiasm that a northern tour of OHL games would customarily command.
I set out nonetheless, morose, as if mapped for Mordor, but after a pair of bleak, back-to-back, grey, rainy days – both of them Mondays – when, suddenly before me, was a salt-water-taffy-wide, rainbow, but, with bandwidths of colour so brilliant, it had to be Genesis’s. The clouds cleared and the buoyancy of open road under blue sky beckoned.
Sustained sunlight’s often involved in such a process, but, on this occasion, I kid you not, Johnny Nash’s I Can See Clearly Now, was spun avidly by a DJ as…
