The game was over and the next touchdown, as it turned out, was 6½ hours away.
It was a Friday night, at 10:25 Eastern time, and the Saskatchewan Roughriders and Montreal Alouettes had just completed a CFL game at Percival Molson Memorial Stadium.
The first order of business, from the standpoint of a scribe, was to file a story (quotes included) on the Alouettes’ 41-12 victory before the Roughriders’ team bus left the stadium and headed for Montreal Saint-Hubert Longueuil Airport — where a chartered WestJet aircraft was waiting for our travelling party of 76.
Any notion that headache-inducing deadlines were behind me, like my career at the Regina Leader-Post, evaporated when it occurred to me that I had perhaps 15 minutes to finish a story after the post-game interviews were conducted.
Accompanying pressure was exerted by the numbing realization that any delay in filing my story for Riderville.com would hold up an entire football team as it waited to embark for the airport.
At least 16 words were spelled correctly once I slammed shut the beloved MacBook, hurriedly placed it in my computer bag, and scurried downstairs and toward the buses, which were parked a few first downs away from the century-old stadium.
Relievedly, I made it with a few minutes to spare. But there was still a cause for some apprehension.
On the first bus I boarded, all the seats appeared to be full, except for those in the front row.
The spots directly behind the bus driver are ordinarily and rightfully reserved for Craig Reynolds (President-CEO), Jeremy O’Day (General Manager and Vice-President of Football Operations) and/or Craig Dickenson (Head Coach).
In deference to them, I made the impulsive and rather panic-stricken decision to try the other bus in the hope that some seats would be available in the back rows.
As I began to change direction, quarterback Mason Fine — seated in the second row — politely invited me to plant myself in one of the available seats.
It turned out that Jeremy and the two Craigs were on the other bus. Therefore, I could begin to decompress after a rather frantic, phonics-optional exercise in writing.
In Row 2, nobody was inclined to relax. Fine and Jake Dolegala — the two quarterbacks who had played for the Roughriders against Montreal — were engrossed in a review of game video.
I was quickly introduced to the magic of the Roughriders’ Video and Analytics crew, which consists of Nick Bowley, Nathan Schellenberg and Mike Woytowich.
The game was barely in the books and the two quarterbacks already had all the Roughriders’ plays at their fingertips.
The speed of the turnaround time was simply stunning. But that’s what happens when you employ first-class people and professionals like Nick, Nathan and Mike, who were facing much tighter deadlines than I could have imagined or adhered to on a Friday night.
As the bus wended its way through the streets of Montreal and toward the airport, I pressed my nose against the window and attempted to extract the most from the final few minutes in one of my favourite cities.
Mason and Jake had other priorities. They were dissecting and discussing every play.
It mattered not that Mason had left the game with a hamstring injury during the second quarter. He was engrossed in game review, every bit the pro.
Thirty-some minutes elapsed before the bus reached the airport, was waved through the games, and parked on the tarmac.
Chartering, I concluded, was the greatest invention since, well, jazz music.
As an occupant of Row 1, I was one of the first people off the bus. So there I was, staring at a passenger-free aircraft, and thinking: “Something isn’t right here. I could be the first person to get on the plane, but I’m a virtual rookie here.”
Rather awkwardly, I waited for the Director of Communications, Arielle Zerr, and thus became the second person to board the plane.
No, I did not sit in the first row. Not this time. Not under any circumstances.
The prime seats are reserved for management and coaches. The players are typically situated further back in the aircraft.
Me? I selected Row 5, in which I was soon joined by our Digital Media Co-ordinator, Morgan Fleury.
Morgan sat on the aisle. I occupied the window seat.
As we waited to fly back to Regina, I decided to sneak in a little writing. I pecked away at the weekly Robservations column, which appears every Saturday morning.
Most of the column, which led with my thoughts on a long-awaited visit to the Alouettes’ home stadium, had been written before the game.
The pre-flight writing binge was interrupted, and pleasantly so, by Brett Lauther.
In an effort to provide everyone with a little good cheer on a tough night, the Roughriders’ placekicker went up and down the aisle and handed out some of WestJet’s chocolatey snacks.
It was roughly the 76,386th nice gesture by Lauther since he became a full-time Roughrider in 2018.
On the bus and aboard the plane, the chatter was minimal. Being a first-time overnight traveller with the team, I did not have a foundation for comparison. Is it always like this after a night game? To what extent does the outcome influence or dictate the mood?
The cheerful nature of receiver Jake Wieneke has proven to be result-proof. A supremely friendly guy, he turned to me as he passed Row 5 and said, “What’s up, Rob?”
We were all up, soon enough, as the plane ascended to cruising altitude of 39,000 feet on a cloudless morning.
Before too long, we were served a meal — chicken being the main course — and, personally speaking, I barely stopped short of leaving teeth marks on the box.
I had been so consumed with the game, followed by the quickie story, followed by the rush to the bus, that it had not occurred to me that eating was crucial to survival.
Not since the pre-game press-box meal, which I had Hoovered around 5:30 p.m., had I eaten anything other than apple slices (which had been distributed by a friendly flight attendant when we got on the plane) and chocolates.
The not-inconsiderable appetite having been satisfied, I decided to immerse myself in the fine art of doing nothing.
A review of the game? Not right now. That could wait.
Casual reading? Cued up on my Kobo reader these days is a book on the Kennedy assassination. I am a JFK nerd and, fittingly, our team hotel was located on President Kennedy Avenue.
But, at such an hour on such a night, I did not feel especially eager to read about Lee Harvey Oswald.
The ever-reliable fallback: Music.
I have a new, non-negotiable policy while travelling with the Roughriders. The first few songs must include Green or White.
Hence the selection of recordings by jazz pianist Benny Green and non-jazz singer/songwriter Barry White.
A mere 30 years earlier, I had become a Barry White fan at the suggestion of then-Roughriders kicker Dave Ridgway — a long-time friend and fellow music aficionado.
To this day, I can’t get enough of “Can’t Get Enough” … or “Never, Never Gonna Give You Up” or “Let the Music Play.”
I let the music play until the aircraft settled on to the runway at Regina International Airport.
We landed at 2:45 a.m. — touchdown! — and were soon flocking toward Mosaic Stadium-bound buses.
I collapsed into a sixth-row window seat. Lauther soon sat beside me — this time, sans chocolates — as, one by one, the bleary-eyed passengers filled the motorcoach.
Silence reigned, save for the whirring of the engine, as we left the airport, made a left turn on to Lewvan Drive, and navigated the virtually empty streets of Regina.
Once we reached the stadium, there were a few good-night nods as we headed to our respective vehicles.
I hitched a ride home with Arielle, who also resides in south Regina, and soon tumbled out of the passenger seat and on to my driveway.
It was just past 3:30 a.m. when I opened the front door and was mobbed by my delightful dog while my wife, Chryssoula, slept upstairs.
As much as I had enjoyed the chocolates — thanks again, Brett — it was especially nice to see Candy.
And off to bed we went …
