Saskatchewan and Winnipeg have both figured in some of my most nightmarish Grey Cup memories.

In 1989, the Edmonton Eskimos (the CFL team of my home town and one I've supported since I was a boy) had a 16-2 season -- a CFL record!

They drubbed the Roughriders thoroughly during the regular season, including the final regular-season game.

Shortly after that, I left on a roughly three-week trip to the then-Soviet Union. I fully expected to return home to celebrate an Eskimos Cup win!

I was at an art museum in Moscow about four days after the western final. A group of fellow Canadians were there, and I went over to chat. I find out they had just arrived from Canada.

"Who won the Western final?" I asked, fully expecting to hear the best news possible (no Internet in those days, folks).

"Saskatchewan," one guy said.

"No-o-o-o-o!!!!"  I involuntarily screamed, startling a number of people.

The Regina Leader-Post, where I worked at the time, was a hotbed of 'Rider Pride*. If they won the Grey Cup, I would be in for a long, l-o-o-n-g winter.

* I used to amuse myself after the 'Riders had been beaten like rugs to loudly hum the 'Rider Pride song ("We got that/'Rider Pride/Something deep inside/It's 'Rider Pride!") in the newsroom.

We flew back from Helsinki to Toronto on Grey Cup Sunday. There was heavy, heavy turbulence over the Atlantic, and when I landed at Pearson in T.O., I was as grey as cheap hotel room sheets.

My cousin Vic came to the airport for a visit during my layover. I ventured the notion of staying over and going to the game, but he looked at me and essentially said, "Are you kidding?"

So on I flew back to Edmonton.

The pilot helpfully kept announcing the back-and-forth score between the 'Riders and Hamilton Tiger-Cats in what has become known as one of the most thrilling Grey Cups ever. Dave "Robokicker" Ridgway sealed the deal with a last-second field goal, something immortalized in 'Rider lore as The Kick.

There were whoops on on the plane, which may even have been in the skies above Saskatchewan at that time. I felt even sicker and toyed for a nanosecond with the idea of punching my seat window out and getting sucked out to my death.

I felt that some payback would be coming for my triumphalist ways earlier in the season, and death might be the better option.

When I got back to the newsroom, there were big smirks on virtually everyone's faces.

My desk was totally festooned in green-and-white 'Rider this and 'Rider that. It took at least 10 minutes to peel it all off. Some people thought I was genuinely mad, but it was just great acting.

Hey: Live by the sword, die by the sword. I would have done the same had the tables been turned.

Skip ahead to the 1990 Grey Cup. The Esks had rebounded and made it to the final, where they lined up against the Winnipeg Blue Bombers.

The Bombers absolutely destroyed my guys, winning 50-11.

Murray Mandryk, the once-and-eternal Leader-Post political columnist and a Manitoba boy, was being very mock solicitous towards me by the game's end.

"Can I do anything for you, Bill?" he asked.

"Well, actually Murray, there is something you can do," I said in an intentionally strange voice.

He asked what.

"Well, you could borrow a tie from Mark (I believe Mark Wyatt, a fellow Edmontonian, hosted the party). Then you could go in the bathroom and hang yourself from the shower curtain rod."

Murray giggled. "I don't think I wanna do that," he said.

Well, you did ask.

Three years later, the Eskimos were back hoisting the Grey Cup, having defeated the Bombers 33-23.

"You guys don't know what it's like," I told the assembled 'Riders fans. "Imagine: Going six years between Grey Cup wins. It's absolutely unthinkable."

Gloating is nine-tenths of the fun of sports fandom! :)