Forty years of ghosts are gone From 1980 right through to the end of the Redblacks' debut in 2014, Ottawa's CFL teams had a grand total of zero winning seasons. And as James Duthie writes, that's why the last two years - including Sunday's Grey Cup win - were so foreign to the Ottawa faithful.

There's this couple I know who have been going to Ottawa football games for more than 60 years. Sure, there was one eight-year sabbatical early in their marriage when they moved around the country for work and unfortunate interruptions when their team died…twice.

But give or take a handful, they've been at every single Rough Riders/Renegades/Redblacks game since they moved back to Ottawa 42 years ago.

They danced around the Zenith TV in their friends' basement when Tom Clements hit Tony Gabriel to win Ottawa's last Grey Cup in 1976. Their 10-year son looked on, bewildered, because he'd never seen his parents drunk before.*

(*They weren't drunk. He was apparently too young to understand the nuanced difference between drunk and HolyCrapWeWon happy)

He needn't have been concerned. There wouldn't be anything to dance about for another four decades. His folks were about to become long-time POWs (Prisoners Of Worst team ever).

And now, finally, they are free. Miraculously, inconceivably, MVP-on-a shot-up-knee free. Bobble, bobble, bobble, catch. Free.

I'm not sure many outside of the capital (or maybe outside of Cubs fans) can truly comprehend what last night's Redblacks Grey Cup victory meant to that long-suffering couple and their deeply damaged demographic (+50 football fan, Ottawa).

Duthie: No Grey Cup has ever matched this one CFL on TSN and TSN Hockey's James Duthie joins Game Day to discuss the 104th Grey Cup, the emotions that he went though as a long-time Ottawa fan, and the Leafs upcoming tilt with Connor McDavid and the Oilers.

I know, I know. Maple Leafs fans are reading this yelling, "Uh, hellooooo? I'm right here!"

Fair enough. You've gone almost a decade longer without a Stanley Cup. And you've seen more than your fair share of lousy ownership/management and horri-awful teams. But you have never had your franchise go Bruce Willis on you (Die Hard and Die Hard 2). And your futility never quite reached the sitcom laugh-track levels of Ottawa football.

The drafting of a dead guy is usually the go-to punchline. Hard to argue with that. But there's so much more Chris Rock quality material. I willfully plagiarize from my own book for this:

- They once traded their first-round draft pick away (a deal approved by the CFL), only to be told the next day by a reporter (me), that they already traded that pick the year before.

- They once sent a player to the locker room to get his knee shot up…and the doctor shot up the wrong knee (A practice thankfully corrected in time for Henry Burris on Sunday).

- They once decided to move a training camp practice across town and couldn't fit all the guys on the bus, so they left a few behind and then forgot about them. I know this because I came across them, in full uniform, sitting on their helmets in the Carleton University parking lot and had to give them a ride. There's some Frosh Week fun! How many players can fit you in a Dodge Colt? Five - with a DB in the hatch.

I could go on. For days. From 1980 right through to the end of the Redblacks' debut in 2014, Ottawa's CFL teams had a grand total of ZERO winning seasons. They did get to .500 twice - in 1991 and 1992, a period we locals call, "The Dynasty Years."

That's why last night, and the last two years really, were so foreign to the Ottawa faithful.

I grew up in those stands, spending most nights ogling cheerleaders because it was already 37-3 Eskimos at halftime. Twenty years of that is hard to shake.

So as I stood on the sidelines late in last year's East Final, I already knew the outcome. The Tragically Hip's "Inevitability of Death" is basically my Ottawa football theme song. When the Redblacks got the ball deep in their end while tied with Hamilton late in the game, I turned to Dave Naylor, another Ottawa-bred football reporter, and said, "There is zero chance they are winning this game." Literally 10 seconds later, Burris hit Greg Ellingson for a 93-yard miracle that defied my entire upbringing.

Last night, when Calgary had a first down inside the 10 in the final minute, needing a field goal to tie and a touchdown to win, I turned to my 17 year-old son and said basically the same thing. "It's over. Ottawa's only chance is to let them score and maybe get the ball back." (Reason No. 4,739 that I'm a host and not a coach)

It's in our DNA to expect the worst. And yet somehow, this incarnation of the franchise has gone full Costanza: Always doing the exact opposite.

Henry Burris never felt that pending doom in either of those games. Neither did Ernest Jackson. Or Abdul Kanneh (history should treat his fingertip tackle preventing the game-winning Stamps touchdown with equal reverence to the Jackson catch). Or Rick Campbell. Or Marcel Desjardins. Or Jeff Hunt. Those old Ottawa football ghosts meant nothing to them. They are the anti-Haley Joel Osments - They don't see dead people.*

(*Or draft them)

And most of their delirious and hungover young fan base is the same. The most striking thing to me about attending that snow globe of an East Final in Ottawa eight days ago were the 20-somethings in red and black lumber jackets who filled the stands. That elusive CFL demo that owner Hunt has masterfully lured and hooked. Last night wasn't some exorcism for them. It was just an OMFG!!!! #BESTGAMEEVER championship. A fantastic excuse to skip class or work today. They expect to win now. And that is a beautiful thing.

As for that couple I know - they pondered coming to the game, but both are in their mid-80s now and joked they were worried about their hearts (particularly in the fourth quarter and overtime). So they stayed at their cottage west of Ottawa and watched on TV.

Just like '76, though the post-game dancing was likely a little tamer.

People ask me if I was cheering for Ottawa last night. The reality is, the fan gets sucked out of you in this business and you selfishly cheer for your network, cheer for a good close game that people will watch (big win in that department). And when it was 27-7, I was quietly hoping for a couple of Calgary touchdowns (which will likely get my Ottawa hometown-boy status revoked). But when that last pass was knocked down and the Redblacks poured on to the field trampling 40 years of ghosts and Gliebermans? Hell yeah, I felt it.

And all I thought about was that couple, who never thought they'd see football again in their city after the Renegades died, let alone a championship in one of the greatest games ever.



So enjoy it Mom and Dad. Man, did you earn it.