It’s moments like these where the game feels secondary, but it loomed large in the background of the tragedy – it was after all the reason why those 29 kids, coaches and staff of the Humboldt Broncos were on a bus winding through the Saskatchewan highway on a colder-than-average April afternoon – and the game remains now for us to unite and find comfort in.

The game divides us.

It divides us by allegiances and loyalties to our chosen teams. We wear different colors and logos on any given night. We yell at each other, we roast each other – sometimes playfully, other times not so much. We not only embrace the divide, we call them battles and we revel in them.

The game even divides us in how we follow it. Mention the phrase “heart and grit” to any hockey fan and chances are you’ll get at least one of two different reactions to the phrase. Is Brandon Tanev more important to the Jets than Jack Roslovic? Should Sami Niku get a spot in the lineup over Joe Morrow? We disagree on these things because the game really isn’t agreeable. The game is based on amazing skill, but it is based on conflict and battles and rivalries and the game usually insists that we are divided and we oblige.

Otherwise, without that division would it even be a game?

A little over 24 hours ago we started to learn of the tragedy that took place just north of Tisdale, Saskatchewan.

The reason they were on the road was because of an upcoming game against rivals they had battled over four previous games, but now the game was secondary.

Humboldt mourned. The hockey community mourned with them. We tried to find words – some of us were more successful that others. We donated money because we know the costs up coming to all these families affected will be large. For 24 hours we could only think of the tragedy. We were united in our grief over the loss of life and remaining lives forever altered. Some of these kids had futures in the game, some did not. It didn’t really matter. We mourned for all of them equally.

But the game carries on. It returned to us tonight and and while it yet again divided us by colors and logos and our allegiances as it always insists on doing, the Winnipeg Jets and Chicago Blackhawks still found a way to stay united.

“BRONCOS” on the back of every jersey. Two teams that have probably never met any members of the third that they now honored. Divided by levels of play and distance and modes of transportation, but also united for love of the game, a love of being on the road “with the boys” to the game and a love of being with a group of guys who aren’t blood, but become your family because within the game’s demand of division and conflict, it commands us ultimately to unite.

The game divides us. The game brings us grief. But the game brings us together. The game comforts us.

For 24 hours we felt grief. Minutes before the puck dropped, two teams formed a circle on the ice and had a moment of silence and mourning.

And then the game brought back a bit of normalcy, if not for just a few hours anyway.

There will still be grief and hurt for a while yet. Ask the people of Swift Current, Saskatchewan. Ask the people of Bathurst, New Brunswick. Ask the people of Yaroslavl, Russia.

But while it’s the game that was the catalyst for each tragedy, it’s also the game that helps heal and in the coming months and years may the family, friends and community of Humboldt find comfort in each other and in the game.

The game does divide us, but the game ultimately unites us, especially when we need it to.