The Little Things That Matter...

By now you're all aware of what occurred on June 15th, 2011 in Vancouver... the Canucks lost Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals to Boston in a 4 - 0 home game loss. I watched it at home on my couch, thinking about having to tell my future children about the second time I watched my favorite team lose a Stanley Cup final. At the end of the game, the fans cheered on the players who looked shell-shocked. Ryan Kesler was close to tears, and I began to cry for the players who I cheered for all season. They fought so hard but they were outplayed by a dirty team with an amazingly talented goalie. The game was over, and I couldn't bear to see Boston accept the cup on our home ice, so I switched the channel and saw the start of the downtown riots. I couldn't believe it was happening... again. I had so much faith in the people of our city after all of the playoff games we'd watched gathered in the streets together with little to no disturbance, and now our city was on fire.

I'm not going to post pictures of the devastation because I don't want to further fuel the frenzy that is going on in traditional and social media. I'm not going to add to the hype. But what I am going to state here is that I'm disappointed in those who chose to take part in the destruction. But those idiots to not make up our entire city. They are not who we are. The rest of Vancouver is made up of people who are disgusted with those people, people who rallied together and cleaned up the mess afterwards, and people who are now going to try to make a difference. I hardly slept Wednesday night, my brain overflowing with the images of burning cars, attacks on police, overturned toilets, garbage littering the streets, and the sacred Canuck towels, jerseys, and flags abandoned like they meant nothing, like they were worth nothing, like the entire season meant nothing, like coming in second stood for nothing.

I woke up in a daze. I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that I couldn't force myself out of bed and into work. Eventually I rose, made a coffee, cleaned the home I've worked hard to build, and drove myself to the gym. Working out was a struggle, but I got through it. Then I decided that I deserved a treat... so I made my way to Starbucks. I tried out the new Mocha Coconut Frappuccino, and it was delightful! It tasted like a frozen Bounty bar. It was just what I needed to cure my hockey hangover.

Then I went home to my loving fiance, cuddled with my kitties, made some pasta for dinner, showered, and watched the news where they were reporting on the cleanup and revitalization of our broken city. My faith in the world was being restored... even if just a little.