Loyal, much?

I'm a loyal creature, to be sure. This quality was refined in the fire of Winnipeg Jets fanhood, circa 1979-1982. I WAS of course a fan after 1982, but those were the ferocious years of fanhood, when I fell asleep routinely with the sounds of play by play and color commentary wafting from CJOB on the radio by my pillow.
The Jets, bless their red, white and blue hearts, had a time of it trying to win games once they entered the NHL. But I loved them anyway, because they were my team, my beloved, irreplaceable, live-and-die-with-them team. On my thirteenth birthday, my parents had given me two ice-level seats, which was fantastically closer than the nosebleed/rafter/$7/ 7/11 seats we usually sat in. I was thrilled to feel an ice chip melt on my newly teenaged cheek as the Jets skated to and fro, trying to beat whoever it was they were trying to beat (oh, wait a minute..upon googling it I find this tidbit: "The Canucks hit double-digits against the Jets on March 27, 1981, winning 10-2 ... ")
So now you know the score, 10-2. Double digits, as the scribe recorded for posterity. It was crushing, yet nothing in me wavered as to whose fan I would be at the final buzzer. After the game, as my friend and I tried to comfort the comprehensively dejected goalie, as only a thirteen-year-old girl could ("You were great! Seriously! Don't worry about it! Hey, it's my birthday..can I get your autograph?"), I was sad yet excited. I was 13, and I had seen a Jets game from the first row!
10-2? They were my team, end of story.
That loyalty, forged in the 1980-1981 season, is still steely, irrational, and the cause of my current inner rantings, which I will share with you all in my first blog.
Lately, I have come to wonder, is loyalty a lost trait?
Recently, my loyal little soul has been shocked--shocked I tell you!--at the defection of various people from both my son's hockey program and our kid's wonderful school. First, I learned that some of my favorite hockey families would not be returning to the charming old barn, the Jolly Roger Ice Arena, our home away from home from September to March. In fact, they not only left the EGRAHA hockey program, they left in a snit, or so the story goes. Now, don't be deceived; I like to get whipped up in a good snit as much as the next girl. I guess I just don't get the rationale behind their alleged snits, or why their rationale would ever constitute leaving not only a building, which is the least of it, but a real family of players, moms, dads, coaches, Zamboni drivers, rink rat siblings etc, so their children could don the jerseys of teams we all used to cheer mightily AGAINST. Yes, some teams had lost a ton of games, and some coaches were not competitive enough, or so the story goes. I hate to see my son lose a game, because he works so hard, and it makes him hang his head and feel sad. I want to see the blue and gold do their very best and win, win, win. But never did it occur to me that leaving our close-knit hockey community would be the answer. I can't fathom cheering against some of the boys and girls my son used to play with, the same boys and girls we all got so attached to, and whose first goals and fab saves were a thrill for us just as they were a thrill to their parents. I can't fathom looking across a crowded rink lobby, to see my friends having a cuppa hot chocolate with strangers--to me. I guess I never thought about it before this exodus from East, but I had really kind of hoped to see those boys and girls grow up with my son.
We don't even live in East Grand Rapids; these people do, which makes their leaving even more puzzling. I will probably see these families again--I hope I do!--and we'll be happy to see each other. We'll chat a little before the game, about how the kids are doing and what's going on in their families--but it won't be the same.
I feel even more flummoxed about the abrupt departure of some families from our amazing, diverse, caring, one-of-a-kind school. Again, it's not just a building, although our building is cool-old, distinguished, and has a peaceful vibe that not even the upheaval of the past year could destroy. I think of our school community as being like-minded people who care about sky-high standards in education, devoted, loving teachers, and a diverse and vibrant student body committed to being formed in the likeness of Jesus.
This community I love has lost at least 16 children over the summer. Of course, I don't really know why these people have left. Maybe they couldn't afford it anymore (that would be completely understandable), or wanted to revolt against the MAN (the future consolodation plans of the school consortium, etc). Maybe they didn't leave because they were in a snit over the upheaval at Oakdale, but if they did...What happened to loyalty?
Happily, at the Oakdale open house the other night, I saw many familiar faces, the faces of the parents, children, and teachers who make up the mosaic of the school we love. And I saw a bunch of new faces too, which made me even happier. Enrollment, I hear, is just peachy, thank you very much.
Loyalty may not win hockey games, but Go Jets! anyway, forever. It may not mean that my child wins most of his games this year, or that the future of his school (and that of his brother and sister) is not in some question. But it means that we as a family are sticking by our various "teams," standing with them, win or lose, no matter what.