Ticket kindness: Rekindling our faith in human nature

Dad and daughter adventures

There was a heartwarming story in the Edmonton Journal, wherein a man and his 9-year-old daughter decided to take a trip from their home in Swift Current, SK, to Edmonton to share in the excitement of their Oilers being in the Stanley Cup finals.

Bear in mind that they didn’t have tickets – they were more than happy to make the 700-km trip to join the large, raucous crowd that was expected in the outdoor Rogers Place plaza, where the game would be broadcast.

The story caught my attention because my daughter and I used to go on similar adventures to watch basketball games in the US. One weekend, when we lived in Alberta, we made the 1,000-km trek to Bozeman, Montana, to watch the Montana State Bobcats play on a Thursday, then drove another 300 km to Missoula to watch the University of Montana Grizzlies play the following Saturday.

In 2015, she and I even went to Indianapolis to watch the Final Four, in which our beloved University of Wisconsin Badgers were playing. These American trips (in the days when trips to the US weren’t as fraught as they are now) were, of course, in addition to basketball at all levels that we watched in Canada. Those are memories that she and I share and will remember for both our lifetimes.

So I know the joy and excitement that this dad and daughter undoubtedly felt as they set out on their ticket-less two-province journey.

A couple of very lucky hockey fans

Apparently, the dad and daughter had to overcome numerous logistical obstacles to get there, including colliding with a deer halfway to Edmonton, changing hotel rooms due to bed bugs once they got there, and waiting in long lines in the less-than-pleasant weather of the day.

In any case, they somehow took care of all of that. Later, they were walking in downtown Edmonton to pick up some additional clothing when, out of the blue, a couple offered them free tickets to the game.

As the dad said, “I was in utter disbelief. In shock, honestly. I’m thinking, what? A stranger in the middle of the street invited us to the Stanley Cup Final? The hardest ticket to get across the country?” I’m sure the dad wondered what kind of a scam this was.

But this wasn’t a scam – not only were the tickets legitimate, they were prime front-row seats. Unbelievable.

What motivated the generous couple to make those tickets available like that? Apparently, they just “wanted to make someone’s day.” Just simple kindness, as it turned out. No strings attached. In the years to come, the dad and daughter may not remember the score, but they’ll always recall the gesture and know that, no matter what, there are still some good people in the world.

Parad-ice lost

This takes me to my own story of kindness involving a hockey ticket.

I was 14 (1973), and the Winnipeg Jets of the now-defunct World Hockey Association had made the playoffs in their first season. I purchased a ticket for their first playoff game, and I remember it because it was in Row 1, Seat 1, Section 1 of the old Winnipeg Arena. There was no such thing as purchasing tickets online in those days, of course, so I took the bus to the Arena a few days beforehand and proudly purchased my ducat. Couldn’t wait for game day!

As luck would have it, I ended up losing the damn thing.

I had it in my back pocket, and what I think happened is that the ticket slipped out on the bus on the way home (yes, kids took busses by themselves in those days, even when we were as young as nine, as helicopter parents the world over collectively shudder). To say I was crestfallen would be a massive understatement.

Not sure what made me do it, but I decided to take the 9-km bus ride (with at least one transfer along the way) to the Arena on game day anyway, to see if someone had perhaps turned in the ticket. No one in their right mind would but, as they say, hope springs eternal in the human heart. I arrived, asked, and received the negative response I expected.

Parad-ice found!

Then, a random security guard (it may even have been a police officer) approached me and asked what I was doing hanging around there. I explained the situation to him matter-of-factly, even though what I really wanted to do was cry. And what did he do but pull a single ticket out of his shirt pocket and give it to me. My sadness instantly gave way to some jumble of gratitude, relief, and joy.

I got to watch the game, and from a pretty good seat at that, as I recall. A storybook ending in my little world. I wonder if that security guard or police officer ever realized how that little bit of kindness would stick with me for the rest of my days. Or perhaps that was precisely his point.

The world has some good, kind people in it – it did in 1973, and it does now, too, as those kind souls in Edmonton indeed exemplify.

Lots of reasons to be cynical these days, but maybe it’s best not to lose our faith in human nature just quite yet.

Whether hockey tickets are involved or not.