In honour of the Flames proceeding to the next round of playoff hockey, I thought I would relate how I knew that they had won Game 7.

Monday night, I spent most of the night reading, then watched a show from 10 to 11. As I was reading, I heard this cheering from some other apartment, likely the one across the hall. It made me smile, because I knew then that the Flames had scored a goal. After watching my show, I thought I would flip over to the CBC to see what the score was. 2-1 with five minutes left in the third. "Oh," I thought to myself, "I'll just watch the rest of the period. The Flames are leading." And indeed, it almost happened that they won. But with five seconds left in the third, five on four, the Canucks scored the tieing goal. It was 1130, and I was beat. Remembering that, on Saturday, the game went through two complete overtimes before the winning goal, I turned off the television, telling myself I could read about it the next morning in the paper. I tidied up, got ready for bed, and shut off the light. I settled into my pillows, slowly relaxing towards sleep, but suddenly this raucous cheering interrupted me! It came from everywhere, it seemed; not just the apartment across the hall, but echoes from upstairs, and outside. I fought, but it was futile. I got up and went out to the living room to watch the replay. Oh, what a sweet goal! Satisfied, I went back to bed, and fell asleep to the sounds of the celebrations outside.

And that is how I knew that the Flames had won Game 7. Even this occasional hockey fan is excited by the prospect of the next series.