I had been to the world junior championship a few times before Winnipeg and I’ve been to most WJCs since.

I’ve seen the tournament move into bigger venues, not always for the better—the sparse, silent crowds at the Bell Centre and the ACC in the opening round of this year’s tournament represent the nadir. Maybe the 2017 incarnation will gain some momentum with the elimination games starting in Montreal on Monday. I wouldn’t bet on it, though. In a chase for revenue, Hockey Canada executives went to the country’s largest markets and found that the tournament’s draw isn’t quite what they imagined it to be. They reached for something just beyond their grasp. In Winnipeg, the dynamic was reversed—Hockey Canada was bringing the highest level of the amateur game to a city that had lost its NHL team, to a province proud of its hockey history. I’m sure in Selkirk and Morden and Tuelon they still talk about the time when the world juniors came to town. If somehow Hockey Canada could find a way to reconnect this tournament to the grass roots—bring the game home—it would be all for the better. Again, I wouldn’t bet on it.

I’ve seen far bigger talents than any of those on the ice that night at the Winnipeg Arena. I’ve seen Ovechkin and Crosby in North Dakota, Toews and Price in Leksand, McDavid and Eichel in Montreal and Toronto, Matthews and Laine in Helsinki. I’ve never seen a performance and heartbreak like Luongo’s that night, never heard cheers like those when Bryan Allen scored, never experienced a tournament—or anything else—like Manitoba in ’99.