The Vancouver Canucks: the team that fell to earth


skating through the trap

Originally uploaded by reservoir frog

The Vancouver Canucks are out of the playoffs [cbc]. The math does not lie, there is no way for them to win. There is nothing left to play for except for the remaining scraps of dignity that the position of first amoung the losers would grant.

Optimistic Canucks’ ads on the side of Skytrains aside, nobody really expected the team to win the Stanley Cup this year. We have a goalie, and that’s about it. The team has addressed neither the team’s ongoing need for a top level goal scorer, to replace the players that Bertuzzi and Nausland used to be, nor do they have the win at any cost mentality that took the Oilers to their last trip to the finals.

It was not just that this just was not our year, it was that the last five years haven’t been our year but aside from bringing in Luongo the team has only aged; not in the gaining more experience version of aging, but in the one day closer to retirement version.

The Canucks need to be torn apart and rebuilt. Build it around Luongo. Build it around a new Russian speedster with flair like Bure. This team will never win the Stanley Cup, and believing it will is just a waste of time.

1 Comment so far

  1. keithlim on April 4th, 2008 @ 3:11 pm

    Once more, with feeling:

    The Streets of Vancouver
    (tune: "The Streets of Laredo", traditional)

    As I walked out in the streets of Vancouver,
    Turning from Granville onto Robsonstrasse.
    I spied some sad people, all numb with unfeeling,
    With feet heavy as lead and eyes dead as glass.

    "I see by your jerseys that you are Canucks fans",
    They looked at me dully as they heaved heavy sighs.
    "Come buy us a few drinks and hear our sad story",
    They begged with drawn faces and tears in their eyes.

    We went to a bar and I bought them a pitcher,
    They poured out their tale as they wept in their beer.
    "The team we support always says they’ll do better,
    But the promise of greatness is broken each year."

    "On paper most seasons, our team’s a contender,
    But when they collapse, it’s real hard to believe.
    Our coach gets outwitted, our goal-scorers dry up,
    Defence turns pucks over, and our goalie’s a sieve."

    Outside, the skies opened, the heavens cried with them,
    The clouds, like the mood of the city, were grey.
    Rain poured into streets like beer into sports fans,
    To drown out the heartbreak of this awful day.

    "Once every twelve years, we get our wish granted:
    To be in the playoffs for more than two weeks."
    They sobbed as they spoke this and hid their wet faces,
    Like raindrops down windows ran tears down their cheeks.

    I paid their bar bill, then I rose and bid farewell,
    The fans muttered mantras I barely could hear:
    "There’s always next season", "this just makes us stronger",
    "The Cup will be ours", "we’ll cheer them next year".

    And as I walked back to the streets of Vancouver,
    Leaving the fans in their haze of numbed pain,
    I knew in my heart that their dreams would be shattered:
    Next time would be deja vu all over again.



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