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On the Red Mile, for those not familiar:
In late May 2004, a strange phenomenon took place on the streets of Calgary which the media nicknamed ‘The Red Mile’. It had to do with our favourite pastime, hockey, and our local team, the Calgary Flames.
I remember watching those Flames skating faster and hitting harder than their opponents, all the time. They simply wanted it more. And the city, eight years removed from playoff hockey, was quickly swept up by the energy of their blue-collar, underdog, overachieving team.
It all started against the Vancouver Canucks. Brash and overconfident, they looked to walk over the Flames, but we triumphed in a grueling seven game series. The city began to buzz; every pub in town was full, especially those on 17th Avenue.
At first ‘the Mile’ was just an endless parade of cars with Flaming C flags driving up and down street until the late hours of the night. But then the Flames started beating the heavily favoured Stanley Cup champion Detroit Red Wings, and the dam burst. Frantically elated fans poured onto the street. Tens of thousands of people started filling up 17th Avenue from one end to the other, creating a truly spontaneous block party. Everyone was drinking, cheering and, yes, taking their clothes off.
On that note, I’ve asked some of my women friends, but it’s still unclear to me why so many women decided to ‘flash’ the Mile. Could it be the coercive pressure of a massive group dynamic? The liberation of a gender exhausted by the intense expectations of living in a conservative environment? Or is it that drunk girls like to get naked? Some questions are probably better left as suppositions.
Over those glorious few weeks the Red Mile was an evolving phenomenon. What began as spontaneous celebratory debauchery did teeter on becoming an absolute riot. Some nights a dangerous energy circulated through the crowd, and shopkeepers and residents were faced with the negative effects of litter, noise and sometimes violence. But thankfully, the fans never turned into a mob. Towards the end, the Mile even became an opportunity for young and old, families and frat houses alike to share in communal celebration.
It’s now the fall of 2005 and after a lockout that ended an entire season, we’re back to playing hockey. With the return of those spring heroes like star winger Jarome Iginla and goalie Mikka Kiprusoff we look primed to pick up where we left off. But will the Red Mile ever happen again? Only time, and presumably a return trip to the playoffs, will tell.
I remember watching those Flames skating faster and hitting harder than their opponents, all the time. They simply wanted it more. And the city, eight years removed from playoff hockey, was quickly swept up by the energy of their blue-collar, underdog, overachieving team.
It all started against the Vancouver Canucks. Brash and overconfident, they looked to walk over the Flames, but we triumphed in a grueling seven game series. The city began to buzz; every pub in town was full, especially those on 17th Avenue.
At first ‘the Mile’ was just an endless parade of cars with Flaming C flags driving up and down street until the late hours of the night. But then the Flames started beating the heavily favoured Stanley Cup champion Detroit Red Wings, and the dam burst. Frantically elated fans poured onto the street. Tens of thousands of people started filling up 17th Avenue from one end to the other, creating a truly spontaneous block party. Everyone was drinking, cheering and, yes, taking their clothes off.
On that note, I’ve asked some of my women friends, but it’s still unclear to me why so many women decided to ‘flash’ the Mile. Could it be the coercive pressure of a massive group dynamic? The liberation of a gender exhausted by the intense expectations of living in a conservative environment? Or is it that drunk girls like to get naked? Some questions are probably better left as suppositions.
Over those glorious few weeks the Red Mile was an evolving phenomenon. What began as spontaneous celebratory debauchery did teeter on becoming an absolute riot. Some nights a dangerous energy circulated through the crowd, and shopkeepers and residents were faced with the negative effects of litter, noise and sometimes violence. But thankfully, the fans never turned into a mob. Towards the end, the Mile even became an opportunity for young and old, families and frat houses alike to share in communal celebration.
It’s now the fall of 2005 and after a lockout that ended an entire season, we’re back to playing hockey. With the return of those spring heroes like star winger Jarome Iginla and goalie Mikka Kiprusoff we look primed to pick up where we left off. But will the Red Mile ever happen again? Only time, and presumably a return trip to the playoffs, will tell.
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