KINGSTON. ON – Of course it all had to end in a hockey rink – and why not an arena on Tragically Hip Way?

One of the most iconic and beloved bands in Canadian history, The Tragically Hip, wrapped up an epic, even mythical “farewell” tour in their hometown with a nationally broadcast love-in at the K Rock Centre that was ultimately, somehow, a celebratory event though we all know lead singer Gord Downie suffers from incurable brain cancer.

I’ve played hockey in the K-Rock against members of the Hip, their management and crew. I remember lining up, during a grueling game, for a faceoff against Billy Ray, legendary guitar tech for the band, my legs aching, five goals behind, looking up at the score clock and wishing it would end. Nobody in that Kingston arena Saturday night wanted things to end – ever -- including the band.

And not Canada’s rock star Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, who bounced up and down like a frat boy, swigging beer, shaking his trademark curls and pumping his fist in his box in the K Rock overlooking the miraculous scene the entire night.

Canada has been riveted as this tour made its way across the country. Every night, in a different town, dedicated fans came to pay their respects and to sing along with "Wheat Kings" maybe one last time. And the boys’ Kingston hometown was determined to step up and make the most of their moment in the spotlight and, more importantly, to honour the local kids they love so much.

Walking the streets of the town Sir John A. MacDonald once called home before the show, every restaurant, store and bar was playing Hip songs and honouring the band in some way, whether with encouraging messages on chalk board sidewalk signs or wait staff and servers delighted to discuss the band that makes them all a little prouder to be from Kingston.

Even the local buses celebrated the band. Transit was free on Hip Day and messages on the front of the buses declared “Welcome Home Hip”. The square in front of City Hall was jammed hours before the nationwide CBC broadcast began as people waited for the jumbo screen to be filled with live footage from just down the street.

As I moved through the crowd, a rumble turned into a roar as the Prime Minister made his way into the throng heading from the Square to the K-Rock and yes, he was wearing an awesome Hip T shirt. I became one of dozens who shamelessly got Trudeau to pose for a quick selfie; he looks better than me in the shot.

I followed the PM and his relatively subtle security detail towards the arena for a show I was excited but also nervous to attend. Would I have enough Kleenex? Would it hurt too much to see good friends say “good bye” to a life they loved?

The biggest lineup outside the K-Rock was not to get in, that ran smoothly, but to buy swag.

Inside the hall before the show, the room boiled and bubbled with anticipation. In a remarkably Canadian moment, after the PM had taken his seat and unleashed the snapping of thousands of smartphone photos, the crowd spontaneously broke into singing a clumsy, beautiful version of "O Canada." We all leapt to our feet, including the PM, who flashed peace signs to the crowd.

And then the Hip took the stage to ecstatic roars which didn’t diminish when the band kindly opened with a full-on hit, the hockey-based, "50 Mission Cap." This was my second show on the tour, I spoke with others who had seen at least 10 and they all insisted this last one was the best. It would be hard to argue with that assessment as the band and their bard were clearly, impossibly at the top of their game.

There was something wonderfully intimate about how the Hip almost formed a circle around Downie as he gyrated, mugged and bellowed his way through a set list that was rich in favourites and restrained on how many new tracks we had to be patient through.

After more encores than they have ever performed in their career, the Hip wrapped it all up with, of course, "Ahead By a Century." During the night, the band had surrendered centre stage to Downie so he could mouth his good byes, blow kisses and bask in the love the fans hold for him. At the end, he kissed and hugged his band mates, and they him, their enduring friendship and commitment to each other just another thing to love about the group.

I cried more at the Hip’s first ACC show in Toronto than I did in Kingston. At the ACC, I felt like I was truly facing the mortality of the band, my friends, and what they mean to Canada, almost for the first time, my denial in play in the face of facts that I had contemplated for months.

But in Kingston they were so good and so strong, it seemed impossible to believe that this could be the end. Wishful thinking? Perhaps, but where are we without wishes?

And what if he perseveres, another Canadian beating impossible odds? Will anybody want their money back; will anybody complain if the Hip can do it again? They never called this a farewell tour, we did.

I’d rather be wrong in thinking the best than right in thinking the worst. Regardless, thank you Gord Downie, thank you Tragically Hip and thank you Canada for showing me and all of us, again, what a big heart we have and what a compassionate country we are..

-- All pictures courtesy of Michael Hollett, co-founder of Now magazine and co-founder of NXNE Toronto.