This post was provided by News Now Warsaw
By Roger Grossman
News Now Warsaw
I was watching the final seconds of the final hockey game of the season last week.
Time was ticking away as Florida was about to claim back-to-back Stanley Cup Championships with a win on home ice over Edmonton.
The Cup was in the building, and the guy responsible for its care was polishing it in preparation for the winning players putting their lips on it and giving it the sweetest kiss they’ve ever given.
There was no drama in the end of this game because the Panthers had built an insurmountable lead. It was just a matter of running the time out and starting the celebration in South Florida.
When the clock hit all zeroes, the roar of the home crowd was deafening, and the best tradition in sports began.
The winners tossed their sticks and gloves and surrounded their goalie for a 20-man group hug at one end of the ice. They were soon joined by their coaches, who for the first time all season, cracked a smile in public view as they slid in their dress shoes out to join the mass of humanity.
At the other end of the ice was the Edmonton Oilers.
Unlike any other professional sport on earth, the losing team in a hockey playoff series doesn’t move. They don’t walk off the field and trudge up the tunnel.
They don’t go down the dugout stairs and slink back to the clubhouse.
They don’t exit the bench and go back to the hallway where the locker room is.
Those players on the bench when the horn sounds freeze in place, while the players still on the ice slowly glide from where they were to the quiet end of the ice.
And they all watch the other team celebrate.
Can you imagine how painful that must be to get that close to your own moment of raw, unbridled joy, only to be forced to watch your opponent take your dream and make it their own?They lean against the wall in front of their bench. They prop up their chins with the butt end of their sticks.
They take a knee with their sticks on their shoulders.
Some watch the celebration at the other end through a prism of tears. Some watch and wonder if they will ever get that close again.
But all watch, just the same.
And then the moment happens. The moment that defines the difference between the sport of hockey and every other sport.
The two teams line up, and they skate towards each other to shake hands.
Remember, one team just won the series and the other just battled for four, five, six or seven games and came away with nothing.
But they participate fully anyway.
And let me be perfectly clear on this — this handshake line is exactly that … it’s a “handshake” line. It’s not to be confused with the “hand-slap” line that you find in gyms, on soccer pitches and at little league diamonds across America every night and weekend.
No, these people who beat the tar out of each other, yelled foul words at each other and squared off to fight each other for 60 minutes or more multiple times over the last two weeks … now extend their right hands toward each opponent.
Sometimes that right hand is met with a firm handshake. Sometimes it’s met with a hug. Sometimes it’s met with a pat on the front of the shoulder.
Each player makes contact not only with their hands, but also with their eyes. They look each other directly in the eyes. There may not be any words spoken in these short interactions. Words are not necessary here. The look and the physical contact say all that needs to be said.
It expresses the respect one player has for another, while at the same time displaying for all to see the love of the game that has been passed down through many generations to them, and will be passed down to generations of hockey players to come.
It is the highest form of respect a human being can show another human being—to look them in the eye and shake their hand.
It is a noble part of this sport that combines power, speed, grace and skill that sets it apart and above the rest.
And no matter who is playing in the series or where that series sits in the playoff picture, when this incredible display of sportsmanship takes place, I stop what I am doing and I watch it. It’s my way of contributing to the tradition in the only way I can.
In a society that is being increasingly pulled apart, in a world where decorum has been lost and civility is seen as a sign of weakness, I suggest to you that one of the last places on earth to find dignity in its purest form is in the five minutes of the handshake line at the end of a hockey series.
We can and should learn from it. We should show it to our young people. We should help them see the value of it.
We should want them to live their lives like that.
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