VANCOUVER – This one is different. This one means everything. A chance at redemption. A chance to achieve what I want most as a Blue Bombers fan; a dynasty. If Winnipeg wins this game, it’ll be three Grey Cup titles in five seasons. Dynasty — a word infused with deep significance that I am only beginning to understand.

Much like the Bud Grant teams and their four Grey Cups, or the 1984–1988–1990 championship run, a third Grey Cup for O’Shea’s group would equate to football immortality — an era of supremacy unparalleled in the CFL since Edmonton’s five-straight championships from 1978-1982.

What do I mean by immortality? A lasting legacy. If the Bombers lose the 111th Grey Cup, it drastically changes the narrative. Yes, they’d still have won two, but they would have lost the other three — and had lost them in consecutive years. It will be left as a memory of “what if” and “oh-so-close.” A dynasty denied.

But personally, it’s more than that for me. A loss would be an emotional gut-shot. A win, and a true dynasty, would spark lasting jubilation and a feeling of incredible satisfaction deep within my soul. This reaction seems both healthy… and somehow also unhealthy. A paradox I’ve wondered about. I’ve wondered why I’m so hung up on this one, and here is where I can delve into it.

Sigmund Freud would probably believe this is all about my deceased father. My dad, Mendel Schnitzer, died in 2017. He never got to see this current run of Blue Bomber football, though he thought there was something special about the 2016 team, in that they were building towards something. He was chronically ill for 30 years, but the Bombers were always our escape together. And, though he had a terminal illness, the dream of a Grey Cup win was a metaphor for a miraculous recovery for him, which, in hindsight, was impossible. Before he was sick, he was around for the Bombers trio of titles in the 1980s. I’d see the twinkle in his eye as he regaled me, his adoring and awestruck son, with stories of heroic achievement by the Blue & Gold and their Cup wins in ’84, ’88, and ’90. It was a time I yearned for; the Blue Bombers thrived, and my dad was healthy and vigorous. Maybe that’s it: the dynasty of the 1980s, my dad’s glory years intermingled, all fused together in my heart. If the Bombers attain dynasty status on Sunday, deep down in my psyche, I’ll feel like my dad is still alive, healthy and unstoppable. If they lose, it’ll feel like he’s died all over again. No wonder I am both jubilant with excitement and almost paralyzed by anxiety for Sunday.

Those teams of the 1980’s were suffused with hope; it spoke of a mysterious time before my dad’s illness, when things were golden, the Bombers were the best, and all was right in the world. And now, if my beloved Blue Bombers can emerge victorious on Sunday, all will be right in the world. The dynasty isn’t just fan jubilation, it’s a yearning for a golden era of my own life when my dad was healthy, vigorous, and unstoppable — a time when all was right in the Schnitzer household. I want that time again.

The grown-up part of me knows that this is unhealthy. Even if the Bombers win on Sunday, I’ll never get those times back. My dad is gone, and it is sad and tragic. He was my best friend and confidante, my wingman, my hero, my go-to person in the universe. Perhaps it’s time for me to grow up, to just be grateful and appreciative that I had that time with my father. After all, many people either lose their fathers at a younger age or don’t have that special relationship at all. Similarly, maybe I should just be grateful that I’ll be at BC Place on Sunday with thousands of other Bombers fans.

Yes, a win would mean a dynasty. It would be the cherry on top. But being in the building, enjoying my Blue & Gold, and getting to break it all down with Darrin Bauming on the Bonfire Sports post-game show, GameDay After Dark, is what it’s all about: camaraderie, connection, community, and fun.

My dad wouldn’t want me to get so hung up on something I cannot control — a win or loss. He would want me to be grateful for what I have and to focus on the true value of fandom, that football inspires us, along with fans, friends, and family, and to connect with something larger than ourselves. Perhaps that in itself is a dynasty, no matter what happens on Sunday. To be honest though, I am maybe not mature enough to embrace this ethos and to transcend my childhood dreams. I feel like I’m dying for a win, I’m dying for a dynasty, and I am dying to have my dad back.

This one is different. It means more. It means everything to me and I’m not ready to give up my childhood fantasy. At best, perhaps, I’ll be able to hold both of these in balance — of the desperate child and the grateful adult, as we watch the Winnipeg Blue Bombers go for glory this Sunday in the 111th Grey Cup.