(no subject)
I remember 1994. My entire family watched the playoff run on TV, towels in hand. This was it, this was our turn...and then, the Rangers won it. A small downtown celebration eventually turned sour and a riot happened, shaming our city. But a few days later, we all congregated inside BC Place to welcome our Vancouver Canucks home and to celebrate the run. The team had brought us together in ways we had never seen and this was our chance to tell them that we still loved and supported them. It was a time.
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It had been an amazing post-season. The Canucks made the playoffs and not only that, but they were the ones doing the eliminating. Still glowing after a successful Olympics, our city eventually opened the streets and allowed people to watch the games on big-screen tvs and celebrate afterwards. For the finals, Rogers Arena allowed people to come in and watch the games. And the continued run allowed me to rack up the shifts and tips at Job 2.
People were happy, friendly. Vancouver let down its guard, something it hadn't done since the Olympics. Tourists and travellers looked on in amazement at the celebrations on Granville, staring on as people woo-hooed and waved towels and flags. Even my cynical dad started to believe, and hoped to see the Canucks win the cup before he died. Hey, playoff fever was contagious, and all you could do was take two beer and read the sports page in the morning.
As the finals wore on, a darkness started to emerge. People joked about rioting. Fan zones multiplied and grew. Young people took the train into town, predrinking so as to avoid the dreaded pour-outs and early liquor store closings. Anyone wearing a Bruins jersey was subject to boos, ridicule, and threats, if not beatings. And that was just my commute to and from work on the day of game 6. By game 7, my optimism had been tainted, but I kept calm and Canucked on through my shift.
After my shift, I hurried down to the change room, got into my civvies, and headed to the door. As I went through my routine, I began to hear about cars burning downtown and chaos in the streets. Since I wasn't at my other job in the Entertainment District, I wasn't really worried. All I had to do was hurry across the street and onto the eastbound skytrain. And I did just that.
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Sadly, this is why we can't have nice things. We were trusted with freedom, and a few hundred young people blow it for us. Vancouver had potential to finally become the world class city it claims to be, and now? Things are likely to become more oppressive and less fun. I fully expect history to repeat itself. After all, it already has.
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It had been an amazing post-season. The Canucks made the playoffs and not only that, but they were the ones doing the eliminating. Still glowing after a successful Olympics, our city eventually opened the streets and allowed people to watch the games on big-screen tvs and celebrate afterwards. For the finals, Rogers Arena allowed people to come in and watch the games. And the continued run allowed me to rack up the shifts and tips at Job 2.
People were happy, friendly. Vancouver let down its guard, something it hadn't done since the Olympics. Tourists and travellers looked on in amazement at the celebrations on Granville, staring on as people woo-hooed and waved towels and flags. Even my cynical dad started to believe, and hoped to see the Canucks win the cup before he died. Hey, playoff fever was contagious, and all you could do was take two beer and read the sports page in the morning.
As the finals wore on, a darkness started to emerge. People joked about rioting. Fan zones multiplied and grew. Young people took the train into town, predrinking so as to avoid the dreaded pour-outs and early liquor store closings. Anyone wearing a Bruins jersey was subject to boos, ridicule, and threats, if not beatings. And that was just my commute to and from work on the day of game 6. By game 7, my optimism had been tainted, but I kept calm and Canucked on through my shift.
After my shift, I hurried down to the change room, got into my civvies, and headed to the door. As I went through my routine, I began to hear about cars burning downtown and chaos in the streets. Since I wasn't at my other job in the Entertainment District, I wasn't really worried. All I had to do was hurry across the street and onto the eastbound skytrain. And I did just that.
---------------------------------
Sadly, this is why we can't have nice things. We were trusted with freedom, and a few hundred young people blow it for us. Vancouver had potential to finally become the world class city it claims to be, and now? Things are likely to become more oppressive and less fun. I fully expect history to repeat itself. After all, it already has.