Bathurst High School - "Celebration of the Spirit"

I just read the speech Ken Dryden gave to the graduating class at Bathurst High School on Facebook. Let me tell you, I had trouble holding back the tears. Anyway, I think all of you should read it (click links to remember the victims):

I am a father and I am a son.

As a son, I played basketball too. As you are the Phantoms, we were the Rams. And I loved playing high school basketball just as much as I loved playing hockey. Hockey we could only play on teams outside school. Basketball was my chance to play on the school team. To represent the school; to show off in front of my friends.

As a son, I didn’t fear. I only dreamed and fantasized about the future.

As a father, I watched our two kids, Sarah and Michael. I loved to watch them do whatever they were doing, sports included – basketball included. It was the chance to watch them grow up.

As a father, I dreamed and fantasized for them too, and sometimes I feared.

On January 12th, I was here in New Brunswick, in the midst of a national anti-poverty tour, giving a talk in Fredericton. And as a father and a son, when I heard the news, like everyone else in the country, I felt at least a little of what you were feeling here.


The Boys in Red.

I played all my minor hockey, year after year, for a team called Humber Valley – we wore red.

I played Junior B for the Etobicoke Indians – we wore red too.

I played university hockey at Cornell. We not only wore red, we were “The Big Red” – that was our nickname.

Then I played on the Canadian National Team – and wore red.

Then I went to Montreal. We were the “bleu, blanc et rouge”, the blue, white and red, but really we were the big, proud red of the Montreal Canadiens.

I played for Team Canada in 1972 against the Russians – and wore red.

All my life as a player, every team I played on, I wore red too.

The Boys in Red.

A team. Not just individuals doing whatever they want whenever they want to do it. Players and coaches – together. With personal and selfish needs too, with a personal need to do well, to feel important, to matter, to belong. But with an even bigger personal need to go through something with others, together, as a team – to hope together, to imagine and dream together, to work together and play together; to win together, to lose together; to fail, to triumph, to feel awful, to feel great, to feel down in the dumps, to feel over the moon – together. To do what teammates do – at moments when things go wrong, when you’re hurt or sick or not playing well, to have your teammate “pick you up”, as teammates say, and for you to do the same for them. A team. Working towards that goal you, as players and coaches, set for yourselves at the start of a season – an Etobicoke High School basketball championship or a Stanley Cup, a New Brunswick High School Triple A basketball championship. For what brought you together in the first place. For the biggest prize you can win. A team.

The Boys in Red.

Then on January 12th, your season changed.

Then what your season was about, what your team was about, what brought you together, the biggest prize you could win – changed.

It wasn’t about winning the championship anymore. It was about surviving, pain, deeper than you’ve ever felt before. About loss. About not knowing what to do, where to go.

But teams hang together. Players and coaches hang together. You hope and dream, work and play, win and lose, fail and triumph, feel down in the dumps and over the moon – together. And if someone is having a hard time, with the hurt and pain, if the mountain seems too high, player or coach, you pick each other up because that’s what good teammates, good friends, good neighbours do.

The Boys in Red.

In hockey, we talk of the “7th man,” in football the “12th or 13th man;” in basketball, the “6th man.” The fans, all those around us who hope and dream so hard they want to do whatever they can to help. Since January 12th, this community, this whole community, has been the “6th man.”

The Boys in Red.

This community has been that because all of you have needed each other more than you have ever needed each other before. Because life is a team sport and no one can do it alone.

The Boys in Red.

What is this team playing for now? For the future. For life. For each other. For those here today and those who aren’t. Still picking each other up, still needing each other – always, forever.

The Boys in Red.


Graduation is a time of memory. And because it is, this year it is a wonderful time and a difficult time. What to feel. What to do. What to say. What is right?

As human beings, we have a need to grieve – and we have a right to smile, to laugh, to celebrate.

We have a need to remember – and we have a right to carry on.

As human beings, we have an obligation to life itself. To live.

To live well.

That’s what we owe ourselves. Player or coach – that’s what we owe each other.

The Boys in Red.

I am here today because all of us, all Canadians, want to play on this team.

I am here today because, like all Canadians, I am a “Boys in Red” too.