I was 11 days shy of five years-old when the Edmonton Oilers won their first Stanley Cup. And like many Edmontonians, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Sarah and I are very thankful to have been invited to attend the Legends Reunion event on Friday commemorating the 30-year anniversary of that victory (which consistent with past leadership, raised a pile of money for the Stollery Children’s Hospital).

That 1984 championship was a coming of age for a small prairie city, one still recovering from yet another bust in the boom bust cycle. Friday’s reunion gave us a chance to reflect on the place we were then, and the city we find ourselves building today.

Edmonton has long struggled with its image and self-confidence. Partly it’s because our sibling to the South has seemed relentlessly confident (great piece in Avenue Magazine this month about the evolution of the rivalry between Calgary and Edmonton). Partly because, thinking of oneself as the ‘Gateway to the North’ for so many years has put the emphasis on transience – passing through here on a journey to somewhere else, Northward to make money, Southward to spend it.

Then in 1985 Montreal-based writer Mordecai Richler, writing about Wayne Gretzky, called Edmonton a ‘boiler room’ of a city. He added: “The capital of Alberta is a city you come from, not a place to visit, unless you happen to have relatives there or an interest in an oil well nearby.”

Then there was the bruising Deadmonton label in 2001, and the ‘twitchy-eyed, machete-wielding savages‘ incident of last year. Both provoked spasms of civic outrage from an instinctively defensive city. There are sometimes gems hidden in these shots taken at Edmonton. Richler hated the look of the city but had nice things to say about the people, in spite of their grim, cold ‘cinder-block’ surroundings.

But Richler’s piece was really about Gretzky, who he said “is what athletes are supposed to be, but seldom are – modest to a fault, McIntosh-apple wholesome, dedicated, an inspirational model for young fans.”

Modest to a fault: that’s Edmonton.

And, three decades later, Gretzky is still our Captain, firing up his team, making us all feel unbeatable:

“I don’t know of any other city that could pull this off … Edmonton should never take a back seat to anyone.” – @OfficialGretzky #Oilers84 — Don Iveson (@doniveson) October 11, 2014

There are thousands of explanations for why Wayne Gretzky meant, and still means, so much to Edmontonians. For me, it’s his humility, his care for others, and his extraordinary sense of the importance of building a great team to accomplish extraordinary things. You could see that spirit of humble leadership in effect Friday night when he went out of his way to genuinely acknowledge trainers and office staff who were part of the 1984 team, and when he spontaneously invited all the players’ families on stage for a group photo. And no surprise that when he brought up Joey Moss there was an instant standing ovation, for Joey in his own right, but also for the Great One, who has modelled inclusivity for Joey and others from the beginning.

There were many standing ovations on Friday, but one in particular I will never forget. I was sitting next to some senior officials from the Oilers organization when Slats, John Muckler and Peter Pocklington were invited up for their interview. There was unease all around because no one knew what the reaction to Pocklington’s presence would be. Each time Ron MacLean passed the mic to another hero from that era, the crowd would applaud. So when the time came, and MacLean asked Pocklington about his memories of 1984 and the team he had built with Glen Sather, the applause started slowly. There were a few boos, but those seemed to be quickly drowned out by a growing surge of cheers.

A few people started to stand up. Then, most everyone stood up. It was a catharsis, an outpouring of mixed and confusing emotions that we’d spent decades trying to wrestle with.

Terry Jones, one of the deans of the sports media in Edmonton, said it best: “Nobody ever deserved to come back to a city and be booed more than Pocklington, the man who sold Gretzky for $18 million and tried to sell the team to Les Alexander to move to Houston. But the 17,000 illustrated the extent they are champions more than the odd sweater tosser, Twitter twit or boo bird when they chose to cheer him for who he was in 1984.”

That’s class. That’s confidence.

That’s a city built by champions.