It's always fun hearing stories about how people became a fan of the Canadiens. As much as I would love to recall the moment Habs won me over, the truth is I can't. I was born into it. My father has been a fan of "Nos Glorieux" for as long as I can rememeber and so he passed his passion for the CH down to me when I was too young to remember. What I can still remember the feeling of joy, excitement and pride when the clock ran down in the Montreal Forum on June 9th, 1993 making the Canadiens the Stanley Cup champions for the 24th time. What I can remember more is the anger and confusion I felt as a twelve year old when future hall of famer Patrick Roy was traded to the Colorado Avalanche along with captain Mike Keane in December of '95, just a quarter in the season. But still, I can't remember the moment that I became a true fan. A fan that has dedicated almost 30 years of passion and dedication to a team that has unfortunately never lived up to the glory years my father was lucky enough to have lived through. And as much as I would love to recall the feeling of completely committing myself to the Canadiens what I can say is that I've been lucky enough to witness first hand what it's like to join Habs nation. The one thing people in my life have always known about me is that I bleed bleu, blanc et rouge. My nights revolve around Habs games and my mood depends on the outcome of each and every game. And throughout the course of my friendship with a select group of friends, my passion has been contagious. Within my group of friends there were plenty of casual fans who would watch the games with little care as to what the outcome would be. A loss would lead to a "oh well, what can you do?". Night in and night out the game would always be on if I was there and my frends started to get more entranced. They would feed off of my belligerent yelling at the television and they would become enthralled in what was happening on the ice. For one of my friends birthdays, I bought two tickets to a Habs game and when we walked through the tunnel and the ice first came into view with the Habs logo enlarged at center ice, a tear came to her eye. As much as that sounds exaggerated it is the honest truth. The sight of the Habs taking to the ice mixed with the notorious Bell Center atmosphere overcame her with emotion and from that moment on she has cheered through the good times and bad for a team that won her heart. And so, while I'm not fortunate enough to know first hand what it feels like the moment a team wins you over, I have been lucky enough to provide that feeling to others. In some way that feeling means more to me than ever living through it myself. Go Habs Go.