Silver Band Love Faith Hope Ring

Barry quit, then so did I

Whenever the conversation turns to Detroit's beloved Lions, I'm constantly being asked about my conviction of being a "Lions-free" fan. Many of my fellow Detroiters can't believe that I'm Lions-free.

So, as we're about to embark on another season in the topsy-turvy world of Lions football, let me explain my relationship with Motown's professional football team.

Back in 2009, on the eve of Matthew Stafford's first game as a Lion, I wrote the following confession. And since Stafford has appeared in only 13 games in two seasons, what I wrote almost two years ago still rings true today.  

Hopefully, you'll begin to understand the meaning of being Lions-free and perhaps even join me today, the 12th anniversary of Barry Sanders' premature retirement.



On the eve of Matthew Stafford's first career start as a Detroit Lion, I've allowed myself to drift back into Lion Land -- a place that is littered with broken dreams and false prophets.

As I enter this world of utter disappointment, my mind wonders back to a young boy sitting in his living room, watching his gridiron gladiators -- praying that today might be the day that his team finally sends a resounding message to the rest of the National Football League: "We're the Detroit Lions (insert vulgarity)! Just try and stop us!"

Sadly, as this young boy grew into adulthood, his heroes were never able to put together that championship season. They had some memorable moments highlighted by some elite-level players, but as a team, they never came close to the Promised Land.

From Joe Kapp to Bobby Douglass to Brett Favre to Peyton Manning, and all the other quarterbacks before and after, when it came time to make a play to win a big game, they did. The Lions' quarterbacks did not -- ever!

That, my friend, is the cold-hard reality of my life as a Lions fan -- a miserable scrapbook of unfilled hope and illogical optimism that next year will be better.

Year upon year, I remained loyal. I'm from Detroit and the Lions are my team. Eventually, they'll turn it around and my blind faith will be rewarded. That was my mindset.

Then something happened that changed my outlook forever. Barry Sanders quit the Lions. In a flash he was done. Gone, goodbye, see ya!

At that moment, a rage engulfed me like never before. If the Lions' best player packs it in, why can't I?

Dating in Vancouver - Lester's Army

I now sport a simple but shiny silver band around my ring finger that is a token of hope in a city where falling in love is less than easy. I met my husband at work, like my grandmother who met my blue-eyed Ukrainian grandfather in a pudding factory: a safe and effective way to meet a mate. I’ve dated, I’ve flirted and I’ve had many a one-night stand in other places around the world. But only once in the six years that I lived single in Vancouver had I gone on a date and pursued romance with a stranger.

It began one day during that wonderful time of year in Vancouver when the rain clears for more than two days at a time and full pink cherry blossoms are revealed all over the city. I was on the patio of one of my favourite restaurants on Commercial Drive when I spotted him. He was gloomy, handsome, a little sickly looking and definitely between a hangover and being drunk again.

I told my girlfriend that I thought he was ridiculously attractive. She didn’t agree with my observation and challenged me (in her usual direct manner) to ask him on a date.

“What?” I said to distract her from my increasingly hot cheeks.

“Ask him out!” She goaded. “Go on, why not?”

I slouched further into my plastic chair. She was in one of those contagiously daring moods. Half a beer in her and not yet aware of the wild potentiality of spring afternoons on sunny patios. She turned to face the man who was sitting with friends at the other end of the patio.

“My friend wants to ask you out!” She yelled. I put my head in my hands. She didn’t buckle. She didn’t laugh. It was the perfect play. An alternate title for this piece could be “ How to be a Coward and Pick Up Men Using Your Friends .”

He said, “Oh, yeah.” Raising an eyebrow.

He wrote something on a piece of paper, walked over to our table and handed it to my smirking friend while he looked me in the eye. Then he turned and walked into the restaurant to pay his bill. He was nonchalant and it made him so much more desirable. My friend read the paper and smirked with satisfaction, handing it to me.

It read “Andy” and a number. He walked back out to where his friends were waiting and didn’t look at me again. They however did, smiling and checking me out as they left.

He’s incredible! I thought. When I called the number the next day I got his voicemail and laid it all out.