They've finally decided to tear down John Brother MacDonald Stadium to make way for a residential development project, nearly 70 years after it was built in New Glasgow's south end.
While it might make some folks feel a sense of nostalgia – we're losing another piece of our past – it seemed like it was inevitable, after the Pictou County Wellness Centre opened six years ago.
Thousands of little kids grew up at the old rink, forging memories at what was formerly known as New Glasgow Stadium.
But time marches on and things start to sag and creak, no matter how much we try to keep up the maintenance (which reminds me, I have to start getting more exercise).
JBM Stadium will soon feel the heavy weight of the wrecking ball and down she'll go. Instead of being a drain on New Glasgow resources, something tangible will spring to life in its place (in later years, New Glasgow council used to pour $300,000 and more into the rink when JBM was operational, a fact some opponents of the PCWC either forget, or choose to ignore when it doesn't fit their narrative).
IS it natural that people will be sad when the building on the corner of Washington and McColl streets is turned into dust?
Of course it's natural. But the memories aren't going anywhere – they are what's important anyway, and they will remain.
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Non-Sports Thoughts of the Week:
Vacation week, and I've noticed a couple things while sitting around doing almost nothing:
•Every time Jessica Fletcher shows up, someone ends up getting shot or stabbed. There's no earthly reason I should be watching Murder, She Wrote and yet I sometimes do. If that isn't rock bottom in terms of TV viewing, I'd hate to see what rock bottom is.
•On Friday, a young woman from Montreal won $21,000 playing Plinko, a schoolteacher from Tucson banked $11,000 spinning the big wheel, and then Harley rolled in a putt to win a new car.
There's little doubt that The Price Is Right continues to be the most exciting hour on television.
Another Sports Thought:
•The World Cup is now in full swing and I've watched a bit of soccer this week, if only to keep an eye on the modest wagering I sometimes engage in (it's my only vice, unless you count the other ones).
Every once in awhile, one team will push the ball toward the other team's net and you think maybe something interesting is about to happen, but then, no, the ball gets kicked out of bounds and then the other teams passes it back and forth, slowly making their way up the pitch.
Someone will eventually make a nice play and score a goal, but the other 89 minutes is a punishing exercise in patience.
Kevin Adshade is sportswriter with The News. His column appears each Saturday.
