Scott Radley: Yeah the score mattered. But there was still joy in this Grey Cup experience.

The Grey Cup beamed as she worked her way through the ebullient pre-game crowd.

You read that right.

Technically the giant goblet was Ticats' season ticket holder Sheree Bashak. But decked out in her homemade silver costume - the bowl on her head was made from paper mache around a salad bowl covered in aluminum foil - she was the queen of the biggest cocktail party in recent Hamilton history.

Every five steps she'd be stopped to pose for a photo with a fan. Every one of them smiling.

That last word is the most important thing you'll read the rest of the way here and the most-crucial thing to take from what happened this week in this city. The result of the game notwithstanding.

Sunday night was technically about a football game. An important football game. But it was far more than that. This was about a unique moment, hometown pride and - sorry if this sounds trite, corny or misplaced under the circumstances but it's true - joy.

In a league of only nine teams, you'd think home' Grey Cup games would be somewhat commonplace. They aren't. Since 1950, just 14 teams have earned that chance. More importantly, only 14 fan bases have been given that experience.

The last time this happened here was back in 1972. One year shy of half a century ago. Since our median age is 41.3, more than half of the people who call this place home weren't even alive then. It's been a wait.

Then throw in the pandemic that seems to have no end and we needed something good. So this was special. Those who were in the stadium knew that.

But it wasn't just them.

There were parties during the week that had drawn revellers from across the country. Die-hard CFL fans in many cases. Those who already understood what this was all about.

But throughout the city Sunday, there was evidence that the game had caught traction on a broader scale. A family in Ancaster was decked out from head to toe in black and gold while walking their dog, electronic billboards on the Linc were flashing Eat 'Em Raw,' buses were showing Go Cats Go' on their route panel. There were so many more examples.

And once you got near the stadium, it was a party.

Houses around the neighbourhood were displaying flags and banners. Five hours before kickoff, fans were carving out space on a berm across the street in front of Bernie Custis Secondary for a private vantage point. Only a sliver of the field could be seen from where they stood. Didn't matter. They were there.

And inside the gates, there was that joy. If that sounds hyperbolic, it isn't. There was legitimate delight everywhere.

Double-vaxxed Ticat fans - who knew there was so much black clothing in local closets - mingled and drank with blue-clad Bombers fans. Even those bravely wearing Argos gear were welcomed (OK, technically they simply weren't mocked nearly as ruthlessly as usual, but around these parts that counts as being welcomed).

Heck, even Mother Nature chipped in.

Had the game been Saturday night, Arkells lead singer Max Kerman might've been blown into Lake Ontario during the band's terrific halftime show. Sunday was considerably better. By kickoff it was chilly and the wind was blowing but, hey, it's December in Canada. You don't expect palm trees and tropical breezes.

And there was no blizzard this time, unlike the last time the Grey Cup was here. Though more than a few people seemed a touch disappointed by the clear skies, longing instead for a little postcard Canadiana.

If there was any early disappointment though, it disappeared when Ted Laurent - the star defensive tackle who had to miss the game after undergoing emergency surgery earlier in the week - lead the Ticats onto the field carrying a flag bearing the late Angelo Mosca's No. 68.

And when Hamilton took its first lead on a touchdown in the waning seconds of the first half, they probably heard the roar in Stoney Creek.

Yeah, the ending stung. The Tiger-Cats were that close to ending their 22-year title drought. That close. Having a fourth-quarter lead in the championship game and seeing it slip away is painful. Losing in overtime on a double-doink interception is like a hundred paper cuts followed by an iodine bath..

That'll be how this game is remembered for sure. But there was more to this day.

A month from now, a World Cup qualifying soccer game between Canada and the U.S. will be played on this field. Two months after that, the Toronto Maple Leafs and Buffalo Sabres will face off in an outdoor Heritage Classic. If this was the appetizer, many will be saying bring on the main course.

Among all those pre-game revellers, Bashak did her rounds until just before kickoff. Then she took off her costume and slipped into her Ticats jersey. It was a bit of superstition, at play. She'd worn it throughout the 2019 game in Calgary as she sat in the stands and the Ticats lost.

I think maybe I jinxed us," she says.

She wasn't going to risk it again. But it turns out she wasn't the issue.

Ultimately, the result of the game mattered for sure. Of course it did. But it didn't wipe out all the good that happened. No matter what the outcome was, for one hopeful day people were hanging out together, laughing together, singing together, and cheering together. To say that it felt just like normal would be enough. But this was clearly better than normal. Until the very end, at least.

Best of all? We might get to do this all over again in two years when the game returns.

Hopefully with a different result.

Scott Radley is a Hamilton-based columnist at The Spectator. Reach him via email: sradley@thespec.com