I agree. When my late father and I went to Hamilton in 1996, we parked in a grocery store parking lot (and the car has at least a foot of snow after the game), walked across the street to a little tavern and enjoyed open faced sandwiches while the owner (after learning we are American) was constantly coming around to keep our coffee cups full. When we trudged to the stadium, as soon as we turned off Barton Street, the police officer approached us and kindly asked"are you looking for the beer tent?" We both laughed out loud, thanked him for his service and trudged to our seats. Some people sitting on the porches, seemed to like my coat, so we stopped, chatted for a bit, and were treated to a cold beer. The game was one of the wildest in GC history, but I remember the friendly, kind Canadians we met much better. A young man sitting next to my father was sipping whiskey out of his "binoculars" and kept going back and forth for beer (it was the first GC that allowed that) and on his last trip, he lost his balance, I caught him and he landed in my lap. He said, "Sir, you are a gentleman and a scholar. I thank you kindly." I laughed and wished him well. My father just sat there and laughed until the game was over. He could not believe how wonderful the entire experience was. And it was wonderful, both times. Sweet memories.