Apparently my number was retired by the Vancouver Canucks last night. Personally I take offense to this. The fact is I have never played for this organization and the raising of #7 to the rafters is a cheap stunt. What it really says is, gee fellas, this organization has never really had enough quality players (and if we do we run them out of town) to do anything of substance — like win — so we’ve decided on this innocuous ceremonial retirement to stand as an iconic reminder of what this team has not accomplished.
In a night when all thirty teams in the NHL were playing the sports world was abuzz. Not only where there fifteen NHL games on the schedule, there was Game 3 of the World Series between Tampa Bay and Philadelphia, The BC Lions were playing their last regular season home games (one of perhaps twice a year where the Lions and Canucks play at home simultaneously), and there was some UFC fight which I basically don’t give a fuck about. But some people do, and if you cared about even two of these event the night was bound to serve.
Baseball is my second, my understudy if you will. Hockey is my first love and since Game 3 got rain delayed for two long (I was watching at Soho’s in Yaletown) I decided to move along once the Canucks game started. I waved good-bye to the cute barmaid and walked over to doucheville (AKA Cactus Club) to drink overpriced beer and watch the game on really nice LCD screens. Watching hockey and strippers was a really good idea, watching hockey at Cactus Club was not necessarily terrible. I wound up giving game commentary to the well-dressed gay fellow watching beside me most of the night. Apart from screaming “FUCK FUCK FUCK” when Edmonton tied it in the second I mostly kept my composure and left satisfied with the win. I didn’t get drunk and make a fool of myself, although I did get plenty drunk.
The game tonight was all about special teams. The short bus of professional sports. The most fickle of stats, yet when responsive, creates the most stupendous joy for the entire family. Like having a child with down-syndrome, sometimes you wish you’d had an abortion, but when the child smiles he lights up the room.Or the red lamp.And boy did we see red tonight. 4/6 on the Power play. Perfect on the penalty kill. Luongo let in three goals off two bad bounces (one was a stinker). But we’ll take it. Tonight was all about special teams and big retarded smiles from those of us in Canuckland. The young gunners, Yannick Hansen and Mason Raymond, each had a pair. The shutdown trio kept the Oilers top line off the scoresheet and even ‘ol fatty Wellwood chipped in with the eventual winner. After coughing up a two goal lead at the end of the second the Canucks looked doomed to failure, but one save from Louie off a Sam Gagner penalty shot and we were back in the game.
Next Up — Boston