The Game
So much for this being the year the Canucks would win the Stanley Cup. In the biggest game of the year they played too cautiously and would end up getting blown out 4-0. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise, Boston did enough to win any and all games in the series, while Vancouver looked beat up and tired and happy the season would finally end.
The loss was a gut-punch of epic proportions. I have seen this team lose in so many different ways over the years that I did not think there was a new level to their awfulness. But here it is, manifested in raising the hopes of Canucks fans everywhere only to dash them at the last possible moment. I guess had the Canucks lost in overtime it may have felt different, but that would take Vancouver playing well enough to get to overtime. The team I watched on Wednesday was a shadow of the contender that I came to believe in. Boston was the better team and played like it. The real surprise is that the series went seven games.
And now comes the second-guessing of the team. Good. The Canucks should be heavily scrutinized for their epic failure to show up in the Final. Was it Luongo’s fault? Was it Vignaeult’s fault? The Sedins? Kesler? No, the loss is the fault of every single player and coach on the team. Game seven of the Final and that is what we got to see. Disgraceful.
This was supposed to be the team, the year, the celebration. But it was not. And now there is a psychological barrier so huge that it cannot be overcome. Some players, the Crosbys of the world, would use this experience to grow stronger. I wonder about the Canucks ability to do the same. Kesler, Burrows and Hansen? Sure, I can see them giving a rat’s ass. But Luongo? The Sedins? I have a hard time believing these players can be saviors. This game will cast a shadow over the organization that will last years into the future.
The Riots
I was in Vancouver for game seven. I took my wife to the coast under the misguided assumption we would be going for an all-time party. After the second goal I knew we were screwed, and after the third goal I dragged us back to our hotel. The riots were coming, any idiot could see that.
Our hotel was at the corner of Howe and Helmcken, approximately a ten-minute walk from where the worst damage took place. It was a surreal atmosphere watching live coverage on TV while looking out the window to see similar incidents play out down below. When two cop cars were lit on fire, it wasn’t long before their smoke plume drifted into view from our window. The whole thing was a complete and utter disgrace.
While the rioters and looters and anarchists deserve the lion’s share of the blame for inciting this riot, I cannot help but think that this mayhem could have and should have been averted. Firstly, the city must shoulder the brunt of the responsibility for allowing such large crowds to swell into downtown. Hadn’t they remembered 1994? And this crowd was exponentially larger. Wouldn’t have decentralized crowds spread out over the entire lower mainland been more effective for quelling such incidents? Instead, invite everyone to one location so that the worst offenders can congregate and organize. Brutal planning.
Secondly, liquor stores were ordained to stop selling booze to the public by four o’clock in the afternoon. But bars and pubs were able to continue selling alcohol well into the night. Why not sanction these establishments as well? Or how about not opening liquor stores at all on game day? I cannot help but think this effort to curb drinking in order to dispel confrontation was shortsighted and misguided. Having walked around the giant TV areas earlier in the day, I can tell you security was extremely lax. There were no gates or checkpoints for officials to ensure no alcohol. Anyone was able to walk into a liquor store at 3:30, buy a bottle of whiskey, and drink said booze in the anonymity of one hundred thousand onlookers. Combine these people with the patrons pouring out of bars during the third period and after the game, and there were enough angry drunks on the street to cause considerable damage. Which is exactly what happened.
Perhaps most disconcerting during the riot was the throngs of onlookers mulling around near dangerous areas so that they could take pictures or video of the chaos. My first instinct was to get my wife to safety, not stick around to see if I could get a good shot for facebook or make the evening news. Certainly some of the remaining crowd were shooting video to help identify looters at a later date, but many of the people on television seemed to be reveling in the madness, like it was just part of the show. From my hotel room I saw countless persons running from fights one minute, only to stop and snap a picture the next. Had the persons who were standing around gawking actually tried to help, say, by forming a human wall around the businesses that were targeted, then this riot would have been less extensive than it was. As it turned out, too many people were interested in being entertained than in getting to a safe area or doing anything to help. If this is the effect social media has on our collective psyche, then I fear for our children.
The End
This is not the year for the Canucks, which is something I’ve seen every single year I’ve followed the team. Which makes me wonder why I follow them at all.
Because this whole thing ended so badly, I feel extremely disconnected from giving a rat’s ass about anything to do with the Vancouver Canucks. Perhaps time will heal this reaction, but knowing this team and its fan base as I do I doubt anything will change. The Canucks will continue to be a cursed and tortured organization well into the future.
If anything, I have been reminded that organized sports leagues are nothing more than an elaborate entertainment network that seeks to make money for already wealthy individuals. This is something I knew, but today the lesson seems especially crucial: Why give a fuck about sports?
Sports do not make me money, or pay my bills, or hug me at night. They are a simply a diversion from the rest of life. I only have myself to blame for paying attention and giving my time. Who cares who wins and loses? It doesn’t affect me one way or another. Will I stop watching sports altogether? Unlikely. There are still some spectacles worth watching, such as the MLB playoffs, or March Madness, or the Olympics. But gone are the days of tuning in to some random game between two teams in the middle of a regular season. Why bother? It’s a waste of time. Sitting down to write about such events? Unless you’re getting paid, it’s an even bigger waste of time.
Am I bitter? Probably. I am over-reacting? Maybe. Do I really care all that much? No, actually, I don’t. If this whole experience has taught me anything, it’s that life is fleeting. It’s a waste of time to spend hours and hours caring about something that will never care back.
Thank you, Vancouver Canucks. When I was nine your team indoctrinated me into watching the games, buying the merchandise and believing in the “power of sport.” I drank twenty years worth of Kool-aid without ever bothering to ask why. If you had won, I’m sure twenty more years of blind faith would follow. As it stands I’ve learned more from this epic collapse than I ever did from a victory. Sport is meant to be played, it is meant to be enjoyed, it is meant to be shared. But unless you are participating in the competition, sport should never be all that important. Sport is a diversion, nothing more.
Thank you Vancouver Canucks. You successfully diverted me for twenty years. If and when you make it back to the Final, I will watch. But until that time, I will not care.
Goodbye.