I spend part of my time in a small community in rural Ontario not far from Ottawa. Here you often see the flag representing the French speaking Ontario people - part fleur-de-lis and part trillium. Canada is a complex country with two official languages not equally served across the provinces. With Quebec, decidedly French, the rest of Canada is predominantly English-speaking. Ontario has pockets of French communities, particularly near the Quebec border and in the north. In Casselman this large flag greets you as you come off the highway. Many homes fly the flag on their lawns. Pride of place - in a sea of English in North America.
Hope springs eternal. Montreal is a hockey town. Now it is infected with playoff fever. Many cars sport the Canadiens flag, whipping in the wind.
I grew up with hockey - it's all that was on television on a winter Saturday night. We watched the grainy black and white images and rooted for our team. Back then there were only six teams, so rivalry was particularly intense. Tonight the playoffs start, with our beloved Habs playing one of the original six, the Bruins. Our team has injuries and is not playing from the strength of the glory days of the past - the players I remember - Jacques Plante in nets, Henri Richard, Jean Beliveau, Yvan Cournoyer. And of course, Toe Blake pacing behind the bench in his fedora.
I haven't really followed sports in many years, though my interest perks up as playoffs roll around. Now it is my children who hoop and holler and support the team. I haven't bought a flag for my car - but maybe I should for old time's sake.
