07/31/1999 12:34 AM

The sky was cloudless as the heat of the day seeped away into the darkness. The fullness of the moon lit the lake with its silvery glow. They stood near the shoreline to share a quiet moment before the whirlwind that would be the events of the day which had been planned over a year and a half.

Events set in motion over two years ago by a then one hundred and four year old silver bowl, a skinny kid from Cranbrook, B.C., and a city looking to end a forty-two year old championship drought. Events of a day they had been dreaming about their entire lives.

And so they enjoyed the quietness of the moment and the warmth of each other's company as a ripple crept across the lake. She said it was probably a rat, he said let's say it's a beaver--it definitely wasn't the liger which had been "terrorizing" the area.

A great adventure would begin tomorrow and it was getting late. They walked back to the door of their apartment. He kissed her one last time under the porch light, very 1950's.

Nine years. Over seven hundred and fifty million heartbeats ago. Seems like yesterday. Seems like forever.