In our home DVD’s section, one of my favorites is Miracle, a movie about the USA team on 1980. It really shows us the true meaning of Olympic Hockey. It was a great movie, the ultimate feel-good-for-the-underdog story.

This year's version was Switzerland losing to Canada 3-2 in a shootout. Hiller was outstanding, with one of the best saves I have ever seen off Perry. A great glove hand save. The shootout was one the most nerve-racking experiences I have ever gone through. I was so proud of myself for not breaking the TV. The shoot-out ended with a great shot by Crosby, a wrist shot in the top corner shelf. I would almost have pulled for the Swiss, if they were not playing against Canada. Sorry, I cheer for Canada first, the underdog second.

Which leads me to one of my other favorite movies, Evan Almighty. In this movie, one of best ever in a movie is said by Morgan Freeman “How do you change the world?” His answer, “One Act of Random Kindness”. So why am mentioning this? Well, during this Olympic time, I just hope we can lean to love the other people and respect them for pulling for their countries. Let's enjoy the hockey tournament for what it really is, a little piece of hockey heaven.

Talking about random acts of kindness, my son and I really had a great time at the Flames Training Camp two years ago. The Flames really understood the meaning of One Act of Random Kindness.

When we got to the camp, we sat with another young man near my son's age, and there was another fan nicknamed Santa (of course because of his beard). You see, dad is okay, but he is not cool. He had to show everyone that he had friends. Not cool to sit with dad unless he had to, that’s in kid's handbook, rule number 1. Number 2, dad's don’t yell, it's embarrassing. I had to sit with my hands over my mouth while he shouted and screamed. There is nothing worse than dad embarrassing his boy in front one of his friends. Oh, by the way, the friends rule comes into effect immediately, it does not matter if he just met such friend. I could go on, but this blog would be 30 pages with said rules of father and son engagement.

The practice itself started with the boys yelling out the players' names until they look up and give a proper response. This lasted about the first half an hour. The highlight of this part came from Mr. Conroy, giving them a thumbs up, and Iggy rising his stick to them. But those incidents paled in comparison to the Kipper, who did the splits. lifted up his mask, and smiled at them. I finally had to putting the yelling to an end, trying not to laugh because my boy was trying to get Rhett Warrner's attention. If any of you have met Rhett, he is just a big kid himself. Rhett goes through this every year with my son - he can’t look up or else he starts laughing.

During 5-on-5, 4-on-4, and 3-on-3 drills, my son did the play-by-play, which was fun enough, but every time there was a hit, he would yell “fight”. To his displeasure, there were no fights, not even a skirmish. But Douglas continued to do the play-by-play. His friend seemed quite amused. Of course, my son could not identify all the players, because the numbers were only on their helmets, but this only added to the moment, as he yelled black team and red team. He started screaming louder, entertaining everyone else around us when did identify the player who was caring the puck.

After day 1 at the Flames camp, my son and I decided to get autographs. So we went down to see what the ticket office had in memorabilia. Well, we found some old Flames posters from last year, so we picked some up and went out to the back exit where the Flames leave for home.

We sat down by the exit, just visiting with the other fans, enjoying the sunlight. So why am I doing a blog on this? It’s because of what happened that afternoon. My son got to spend one-on-one time with his dad talking hockey on how the Flame were going to do. Not only that, he also got to talk hockey with the other fans and touch their memorabilia, including a Tanguay stick and a Kipper sweater that he gave to the fans. There was an Iggy picture and a Kipper picture to. So I sat there telling stories and my son was just soaking it all in, listening to all the stories of the Flames.

First of all, I have to let you know the ritual that my son went through before each Flame showed up. First, the sighting of a car, then came screaming about the car. Next came the disappointment or exhilaration, depending on if it’s a Flame or media. How did he know if it was a Flame? Simple they pulled over. Then the pushing of dad out of the way to go see who it was, then the excitement of seeing the player himself. Douglas would then rip the poster out of my hand and actual get the player's signature, then came jumping up and down, announcing the player who had signed.

The jumping and pure jubilation seemed to get louder and louder for each player. I thought he would wear down after the first hour, but no such luck. I couldn’t help thinking how lucky I was to have a son who loved meeting these players as much as I did. There are no words to express the joy of watching my then nine-year-old son, who is a big hockey fan, meet his idols and have conversations with them.

Some of the highlights were meeting Kipper, who remembered meeting my son, finding him in mountain of fans when I lost him and was looking for him. Iggy remembered my son when they had their pictures taken together. Getting Alex Tanguay's autograph was big because my son had been trying to get it for a year. The biggest jumping and jubilation was for Kristen Huseluis, he seemed to be my son's his favorite player. The biggest highlight for me was meeting Craig Conroy. When he drove up, I told him I thought my son would have jumped in the way of the truck. He laughed and told me he would have stopped anyways. When I asked if he was planning on becoming a free agent, he laughed and said he had enough of that and said no way, that he was planning on ending his career in Calgary.

It was about 3 when were on our way out and Cory Sarich stops and we get his autograph. So we get his, and start heading to the car. Then my son says to me “Dad, this is the best day of my life.” Is there anything better than that? That is the way the NHL wants its fans to react. The best slogan the NHL could have is “the best day in my life.” Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm, paging Mr. Bettman.

If any of you want to send me the best times you had with your father or son, my email is thefanblogger@gmail.com

Until next time, take care.

Randy.