We are now so far away from the last Stanley Cup parade along the usual route that the entire Montrealer generation grew up without knowing the intense euphoria that accompanies the championship season. It is a pity, because getting titles was once a part of life here, like urban corruption and a cross on the royal mountain. We would be waiting there for the first floats, and then for the trail along with the players to Peel and further. It always struck me that at this time of year, when most people had healthy tan, the triumphant Canadiens were always pale as ghosts and covered with welts and bruises on their faces, necks and shoulders.