You all know the drill here. 5 syllables first line, 7 second line, 5 again for the third line. Lines must not rhyme, for such are the weird and slightly insane rules of haiku. As for why I'm suddenly delving into the realms of bad poetry, well what are the odds that my first poem would be about just that?
David Kaufmann has
Run out of ideas for
His silly Canucks blog
...And my second one, too!
Getting nostalgic
Has its moments but truly
Haiku is more fun
Alright, alright, enough kidding around.
The Vancouver Canucks
How inspired they make me not
To become a fan
I don't think you knew
My favourite part of hockey
Is the word 'goalie'
Did you hear about
How the Sedins are doing?
I know I did not
I was at the Bay
Canucks merchandise really
Isn't that pretty
The NHL is
An inconvenient
Subject for haiku
I'm stopping this now
Pretend this post never was
Haiku sucks like that
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Part Six: In Which The Blogger Gets Nostalgic On All O' Y'all
Once upon a time, this Non-Fan was very much a Fan. I'd mentioned my past obsession with hockey cards in a previous post, and for this post I've decided to give you all a special treat: the story of the first (and only) NHL hockey game I've ever been to. But I warn you in advance, this one's positively dripping with nostalgia, so if you're not the sentimental type you'd probably be better off skipping this one.
Storytelling time in 3... 2... 1...
I don't know exactly what it was about hockey that grabbed my attention so thoroughly, but whatever it was sure did its job well. If I wasn't watching a game on TV, reading about it in the newspaper or Sports Illustrated for Kids (I had a subscription but never bothered reading the articles that weren't about the NHL), playing NHL 98 on my dad's computer or obsessing over hockey cards I was dreaming about someday being good enough with a stick for my adventures as a goalie in the local basketball court-turned-street hockey rink to be anything less than tragedy, and yet somehow through all this I'd never managed to whine my parents into submission long enough for them to choke up the cash to pay for a trip to GM Place for a game.
However, as you've probably guessed by now, one day in 1998 (or was it '97?) that all changed. See, now at the time my two favourite hockey teams were probably the New Jersey Devils (in retrospect I can't really remember why I was a Devils fan, but apparently I was) and the Vancouver Canucks (hometown pride, obviously), and any time those two played each other it was like watching the Clash of the Titans - just instead of gigantic mythological beasts beating the crap out of each other, it was a bunch of overpaid athletes on skates whacking a tiny rubber puck with curved sticks.
So, knowing this, imagine my surprise when one day my father comes home from work bearing two golden tickets (seriously, if I remember correctly the tickets really did have gold colouring on them) to see the New Jersey Devils at the Vancouver Canucks at GM Place, to see these two great Titans doing battle in the Garden of Earthly Delights itself! (Note for future reference: whenever I say something completely insane in the future, just think of the time I called GM Place 'the Garden of Earthly Delights' and it won't seem that wacked after all)
Needless to say, when I found this out the first thing I did was to get started on making my own game poster. Inspired by how people always seem to be holding up big huge cardboard signs with messages like "TREVOR LINDEN HAVE MY BABIES" or "OUR TEAM LOGO MAY LOOK LIKE A DOLPHIN WITH A BAD CASE OF CONSTIPATION BUT IT'S STILL BETTER THAN THAT SONIC THE HEDGEHOG CRAP YOU'VE GOT ON YOUR JERSEYS, EDMONTON", I thought it'd only be natural to make a sign of my own. However, my sign-making capabilities were severely limited by A: the fact that I didn't have any paper larger than the standard office-size 8x11" and B: the fact that I had no idea whether I wanted the Canucks to win or the Devils.
So, naturally, I decided the best way to work with those flaws would be to simply use a single piece of 8x11" paper with "GO CANUCKS GO" on one side and "GO DEVILS GO" on the other. Basically, my plan was that I'd cheer for whichever team was winning, because team loyalty when you're dealing with your two favourites gets pretty tricky.
Come game night, I couldn't believe this was all actually happening. Everything leading up to the game is a blur in my memory, as all I could think about was the upcoming spectacle - the thrill of being in the same building as these godlike teams as they clash for whatever it was they were trying for. Oh, the glory of it all! My trip to Disneyland when I was 6? Yeah, that had nothing on this. Just nothing at all.
And then it finally began.
Nothing in my previous experience watching hockey on TV could quite prepare me for the thrill of being in the thick of it, watching an NHL game live and personal. Everything was so immediate, so much unlike the TV broadcasts with their play-by-play and their instant replays. I cheered any time either team scored a goal (Devils, Canucks, it didn't matter), and by the time the game was over (Canucks won 3-2) I felt as if my entire year had just been made.
After the game I got a hat from the gift shop that didn't leave my head for months afterwards, a perpetual reminder of the best day I'd ever had. Even to this day I keep that hat hanging on my bedpost, one of my few untainted memories and also a pretty nifty hat for what it's worth.
As for why, even after such an amazing experience that I still remember fondly, I can't bring myself to sit through a single game on TV? Well, quite frankly that's something even I don't know. Which, in many ways, is my biggest Confession as a Non-Fan: that I don't really know why I'm not a fan.
Storytelling time in 3... 2... 1...
I don't know exactly what it was about hockey that grabbed my attention so thoroughly, but whatever it was sure did its job well. If I wasn't watching a game on TV, reading about it in the newspaper or Sports Illustrated for Kids (I had a subscription but never bothered reading the articles that weren't about the NHL), playing NHL 98 on my dad's computer or obsessing over hockey cards I was dreaming about someday being good enough with a stick for my adventures as a goalie in the local basketball court-turned-street hockey rink to be anything less than tragedy, and yet somehow through all this I'd never managed to whine my parents into submission long enough for them to choke up the cash to pay for a trip to GM Place for a game.
However, as you've probably guessed by now, one day in 1998 (or was it '97?) that all changed. See, now at the time my two favourite hockey teams were probably the New Jersey Devils (in retrospect I can't really remember why I was a Devils fan, but apparently I was) and the Vancouver Canucks (hometown pride, obviously), and any time those two played each other it was like watching the Clash of the Titans - just instead of gigantic mythological beasts beating the crap out of each other, it was a bunch of overpaid athletes on skates whacking a tiny rubber puck with curved sticks.
So, knowing this, imagine my surprise when one day my father comes home from work bearing two golden tickets (seriously, if I remember correctly the tickets really did have gold colouring on them) to see the New Jersey Devils at the Vancouver Canucks at GM Place, to see these two great Titans doing battle in the Garden of Earthly Delights itself! (Note for future reference: whenever I say something completely insane in the future, just think of the time I called GM Place 'the Garden of Earthly Delights' and it won't seem that wacked after all)
Needless to say, when I found this out the first thing I did was to get started on making my own game poster. Inspired by how people always seem to be holding up big huge cardboard signs with messages like "TREVOR LINDEN HAVE MY BABIES" or "OUR TEAM LOGO MAY LOOK LIKE A DOLPHIN WITH A BAD CASE OF CONSTIPATION BUT IT'S STILL BETTER THAN THAT SONIC THE HEDGEHOG CRAP YOU'VE GOT ON YOUR JERSEYS, EDMONTON", I thought it'd only be natural to make a sign of my own. However, my sign-making capabilities were severely limited by A: the fact that I didn't have any paper larger than the standard office-size 8x11" and B: the fact that I had no idea whether I wanted the Canucks to win or the Devils.
So, naturally, I decided the best way to work with those flaws would be to simply use a single piece of 8x11" paper with "GO CANUCKS GO" on one side and "GO DEVILS GO" on the other. Basically, my plan was that I'd cheer for whichever team was winning, because team loyalty when you're dealing with your two favourites gets pretty tricky.
Come game night, I couldn't believe this was all actually happening. Everything leading up to the game is a blur in my memory, as all I could think about was the upcoming spectacle - the thrill of being in the same building as these godlike teams as they clash for whatever it was they were trying for. Oh, the glory of it all! My trip to Disneyland when I was 6? Yeah, that had nothing on this. Just nothing at all.
And then it finally began.
Nothing in my previous experience watching hockey on TV could quite prepare me for the thrill of being in the thick of it, watching an NHL game live and personal. Everything was so immediate, so much unlike the TV broadcasts with their play-by-play and their instant replays. I cheered any time either team scored a goal (Devils, Canucks, it didn't matter), and by the time the game was over (Canucks won 3-2) I felt as if my entire year had just been made.
After the game I got a hat from the gift shop that didn't leave my head for months afterwards, a perpetual reminder of the best day I'd ever had. Even to this day I keep that hat hanging on my bedpost, one of my few untainted memories and also a pretty nifty hat for what it's worth.
As for why, even after such an amazing experience that I still remember fondly, I can't bring myself to sit through a single game on TV? Well, quite frankly that's something even I don't know. Which, in many ways, is my biggest Confession as a Non-Fan: that I don't really know why I'm not a fan.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Part Five: So I Was Going To Write A Totally Awesome Blog Post But Then I Forgot What It Was Going To Be About So Here's Something Else
Well, the season's officially started now. Predictably enough it seems the Canucks aren't doing too great, but it also doesn't seem like we're sucking beyond redemption - in other words, the season's off to a start that is, above all, mind-numbingly boring. I saved myself from most of the boredom by not bothering to watch any of the games (the only time I really consider turning on the TV to catch a game is during the playoffs, and those aren't for another I-forget-how-many months), but checking the Canucks' website for scores I almost laughed out loud. We'd won exactly half the games played in this part of the season. It's as if the Canucks truly are destined to become the most average team in the league; surely striking fear into the hearts of the Edmonton Oilers but barely registering on other franchises' radar.
Speaking of the Oilers, anyone remember when they tried changing their logo to that weird riveted gear-thing that looked like something out of Sonic the Hedgehog? I understand the desire to appeal more to kids or whatever the hell motivated that disaster, but was putting what looked like a power-up graphic from a bad videogame on team sweaters really the best way to go about doing that? I'm asking way too many rhetorical questions here. I should probably stop doing that.
But anyhow, the point with today's update is that, quite frankly, right now I can't really bring myself to talk about the Canucks. I've got a great big awesome update planned for next time (complete with self-depreciating humour and an overdose of nostalgia), but... Not today. Sorry.
Speaking of the Oilers, anyone remember when they tried changing their logo to that weird riveted gear-thing that looked like something out of Sonic the Hedgehog? I understand the desire to appeal more to kids or whatever the hell motivated that disaster, but was putting what looked like a power-up graphic from a bad videogame on team sweaters really the best way to go about doing that? I'm asking way too many rhetorical questions here. I should probably stop doing that.
But anyhow, the point with today's update is that, quite frankly, right now I can't really bring myself to talk about the Canucks. I've got a great big awesome update planned for next time (complete with self-depreciating humour and an overdose of nostalgia), but... Not today. Sorry.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Part Four: So I Guess The Season Is About To Start Or Something
I've been told the '07-08 season for the Vancouver Canucks is beginning this Wednesday, and that the first game of the season (well, Vancouver's at least) is going to be the Canucks vs. the Philadelphia Flyers. Probably interesting news for a fan, but seeing as I'm not one I'm not going to be talking about that. But I am going to go on a little bit of a Philadelphia Flyers-related tangent, because I think it's relevant to fleshing out the Non-Fan's backstory and explaining why exactly I don't like hockey that much. Or maybe it isn't and I just like telling stupid stories. Either way, here it is.
When I was a great deal younger, I was massively into the NHL. I played the videogames, I watched the games on TV, I wore a jersey from time to time (I actually had two - one Pittsburgh Penguins because Mario Lemieux was the bomb, one Montreal Canadiens because I always liked their jersey), pretended I was a hockey player whenever I went to an ice rink and generally did just about everything hockey-related aside from actually playing it. (Before anyone asks, I didn't play because I liked being the goalie but, due to my utter wimpiness, I sorta kinda broke down and cried whenever anyone scored on me. And seeing as how I was a bloody terrible goalie, this happened a lot.) Now, around this time Kraft had a promotion going on with sports card manufacturer Pinnacle, where on the back of boxes of Kraft Dinner they had cut-out 'hockey cards' profiling various Olympic-bound NHL players. Luckily for me, it was also around this time that my mother had a Costco membership - and, due to overwhelming demand (my sister loved Kraft Dinner like nothing else and I wanted these 'cards' really, really badly for a reason I can't quite recall at the moment) she purchased many a flat of Kraft Dinner cartons from there. You know the ones, something like 40 boxes to one flat for about as much as it'd cost to get two of the individual boxes from Safeway? Yeah, anyhow, thanks to that I was probably able to get the full set of these Pinnacle/Kraft Dinner Olympic hockey cards. And, yes, Mario Lemieux was on one of them. Guy was the bomb, I tell ya.
Getting back on track, after playing around with my cut-out pieces of cardboard crack (seriously, if you've never experienced the joy of cutting out the back of a macaroni box and being rewarded with Steve Yzerman's life story you've really been missing out) for god knows how long I decided that I needed something stronger, as it was. It was at this point that I discovered the local dollar store had packs of hockey cards from 1992, packs of something like 20 cards priced at the ridiculously affordable rate of 2 for $1.00. Now, while admittedly I was skeptical about whether or not these cards from 1992 would be as good as the aforementioned Kraft dinner ones in terms of sheer bang-for-mother's-buck because half the players wouldn't even be on the same teams anymore, most of the jerseys would be out-of-date and stats would just be all kinds of utterly useless, all that changed when I opened the first pack. I couldn't believe I ever doubted these beautiful, beautiful pieces of stiff paper - on the front of each card, a glossy photo of an NHL player! With his name next to it! And on the back, his stats which I never understood back then and still don't! With his bio below them! In retrospect these cards sound terribly dull and I haven't the faintest clue why I thought they were such hot stuff, but one thing I definitely do remember was my feeling of pure joy when I discovered, amongst all the players I didn't care about in my second pack, an Eric Lindros rookie card! Eric freakin' Lindros! Now, keep in mind as you're reading this that I don't know if Eric Lindros actually is any good as a player, if he's still in the league or anything like that. I just know that, at the time, getting an Eric Lindros rookie card was sort of like having the best day of your life, and then at the end of that day you realize it's your birthday so everyone you know starts giving you presents and when you open your presents they're all exactly what you want them to be.
Over the course of my hockey card-collecting years (I think I was 12 or so when I stopped for whatever reason) I ended up with about 4 Eric Lindros rookie cards so the novelty value of having one pretty much died off completely, but whenever I see that Philadelphia Flyers logo (which if you ask me looks kind of like an enemy from a Super Mario Bros. game) I go back to my young self exploding with glee upon pulling out that beautiful, beautiful Eric Lindros rookie card. With a glossy photo of him on the front and his bio on the back. It may not sound like much now, but to a kid like me that was all it took to make my day.
And now back to the Canucks. See, it's weird. I loved the Canucks because they were our home team and you're supposed to love your home team, but after Pavel Bure got his ass traded to Florida there was never really any player on the team I looked up to the way I looked up to guys like Mario Lemieux, Steve Yzerman, Brendan Shanahan or any of those other guys from the Kraft Dinner cards. And even now, I look at the roster and I just see a bunch of names and numbers, guys that get paid more money than I'll see in my life to chase a puck across an ice rink for a season or so. It's depressing, and that's a main factor leading to how, even while the rest of the city is eagerly readying their "GO CANUCKS GO" flags, I just can't get into it. We're not going to win the cup this year, we're not going to win it next year, we'll never win a game against the Ducks at this rate and our logo reminds people of a porpoise with hemorrhoids. We might suck less than the Phoenix Coyotes, but that doesn't mean much when the spirit's gone.
(Note: Next entry going to be less manic-depressive. Hopefully.)
When I was a great deal younger, I was massively into the NHL. I played the videogames, I watched the games on TV, I wore a jersey from time to time (I actually had two - one Pittsburgh Penguins because Mario Lemieux was the bomb, one Montreal Canadiens because I always liked their jersey), pretended I was a hockey player whenever I went to an ice rink and generally did just about everything hockey-related aside from actually playing it. (Before anyone asks, I didn't play because I liked being the goalie but, due to my utter wimpiness, I sorta kinda broke down and cried whenever anyone scored on me. And seeing as how I was a bloody terrible goalie, this happened a lot.) Now, around this time Kraft had a promotion going on with sports card manufacturer Pinnacle, where on the back of boxes of Kraft Dinner they had cut-out 'hockey cards' profiling various Olympic-bound NHL players. Luckily for me, it was also around this time that my mother had a Costco membership - and, due to overwhelming demand (my sister loved Kraft Dinner like nothing else and I wanted these 'cards' really, really badly for a reason I can't quite recall at the moment) she purchased many a flat of Kraft Dinner cartons from there. You know the ones, something like 40 boxes to one flat for about as much as it'd cost to get two of the individual boxes from Safeway? Yeah, anyhow, thanks to that I was probably able to get the full set of these Pinnacle/Kraft Dinner Olympic hockey cards. And, yes, Mario Lemieux was on one of them. Guy was the bomb, I tell ya.
Getting back on track, after playing around with my cut-out pieces of cardboard crack (seriously, if you've never experienced the joy of cutting out the back of a macaroni box and being rewarded with Steve Yzerman's life story you've really been missing out) for god knows how long I decided that I needed something stronger, as it was. It was at this point that I discovered the local dollar store had packs of hockey cards from 1992, packs of something like 20 cards priced at the ridiculously affordable rate of 2 for $1.00. Now, while admittedly I was skeptical about whether or not these cards from 1992 would be as good as the aforementioned Kraft dinner ones in terms of sheer bang-for-mother's-buck because half the players wouldn't even be on the same teams anymore, most of the jerseys would be out-of-date and stats would just be all kinds of utterly useless, all that changed when I opened the first pack. I couldn't believe I ever doubted these beautiful, beautiful pieces of stiff paper - on the front of each card, a glossy photo of an NHL player! With his name next to it! And on the back, his stats which I never understood back then and still don't! With his bio below them! In retrospect these cards sound terribly dull and I haven't the faintest clue why I thought they were such hot stuff, but one thing I definitely do remember was my feeling of pure joy when I discovered, amongst all the players I didn't care about in my second pack, an Eric Lindros rookie card! Eric freakin' Lindros! Now, keep in mind as you're reading this that I don't know if Eric Lindros actually is any good as a player, if he's still in the league or anything like that. I just know that, at the time, getting an Eric Lindros rookie card was sort of like having the best day of your life, and then at the end of that day you realize it's your birthday so everyone you know starts giving you presents and when you open your presents they're all exactly what you want them to be.
Over the course of my hockey card-collecting years (I think I was 12 or so when I stopped for whatever reason) I ended up with about 4 Eric Lindros rookie cards so the novelty value of having one pretty much died off completely, but whenever I see that Philadelphia Flyers logo (which if you ask me looks kind of like an enemy from a Super Mario Bros. game) I go back to my young self exploding with glee upon pulling out that beautiful, beautiful Eric Lindros rookie card. With a glossy photo of him on the front and his bio on the back. It may not sound like much now, but to a kid like me that was all it took to make my day.
And now back to the Canucks. See, it's weird. I loved the Canucks because they were our home team and you're supposed to love your home team, but after Pavel Bure got his ass traded to Florida there was never really any player on the team I looked up to the way I looked up to guys like Mario Lemieux, Steve Yzerman, Brendan Shanahan or any of those other guys from the Kraft Dinner cards. And even now, I look at the roster and I just see a bunch of names and numbers, guys that get paid more money than I'll see in my life to chase a puck across an ice rink for a season or so. It's depressing, and that's a main factor leading to how, even while the rest of the city is eagerly readying their "GO CANUCKS GO" flags, I just can't get into it. We're not going to win the cup this year, we're not going to win it next year, we'll never win a game against the Ducks at this rate and our logo reminds people of a porpoise with hemorrhoids. We might suck less than the Phoenix Coyotes, but that doesn't mean much when the spirit's gone.
(Note: Next entry going to be less manic-depressive. Hopefully.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)