on being a fan

"Never get too high or too low." That's the advice many successful pro athletes try to follow. I am not a pro athlete. I am a fan. It is therefore my duty to ride to the tip top of every high and sink to the deepest depth of every low. For a Vancouver Canuck fan the last few months have epitomized the latter.

What would it be like if you went to work and for the eighth day (in a row, no less) you decide to poop on the floor. Your boss comes in and says, 'Listen, you. Your job is simple. You come to work, fiddle on the keyboard and try to go 7.5 hours without pooping on the floor. Yet everyday I come in here and the same thing: a big pile of steaming, hot shit. What do you have to say for yourself?"

You sit for a minute, ponder the last eight days and respond, "I see what you're saying. I know what I'm supposed to do. I did it before, just fine! But the crux of the matter is, sir. I'm lacking confidence." [split...splat]

It sounds stupid because it is stupid. I love to be an I-told-you-so, so I'll say it again. I knew when the Canucks signed the ancient Mats Sundin to a multi-million dollar contract that the guy would be an utter disappointment. He captained the Leafs, for chris'sakes! My concerns, when I heard that he was coming to Vancouver, were that he took such a long time deciding to play that his Vancouver teammates would question his desire to be there. I say that because if I was playing on that team, I would be like, "Took you long enough, you selfish prick."

As if that wasn't enough, he decides that at the ripe old age of 38, beyond-death in hockey years, all he requires to get back into shape is a three week stint at an LA gym. What an arrogant douche!

So, of course, he shows up, plays like a fat glory-days-clenching beer-leaguer and the Canuck front office rushes out with, "We've got to give him some time to regain his fitness." All the while, they continue to pay him millions and millions of dollars to glide around like our flippin' mascot on the ice.

On the radio today, various commentators chimed in with the same diagnosis: he's not moving his feet. He can't get to where he wants to go fast enough and ends up losing the scoring opportunity, giving away the puck or taking a lazy penalty.

When asked how he feels about the shape his legs are in, Sundin reported, "They're fine." Selfish, arrogant, and grossly self-unaware. No wonder. I was once on a team with someone like that and it was all I could do to hold in my rage. And no, I didn't play very well because of it.

Now by all accounts, I am not in that dressing room and have no idea what the team chemistry is like. But even from my distant vantage point, I can see that the arrival of Sundin has marked the beginning of a wave of losses from which the Canucks have yet to recover.

Team chemistry is a delicate thing. It only takes one dickhead to make you question your love for a sport you've been playing and loving for years. Seemingly minor changes can have great effect. For instance what about the goaltending shuffle that also precipitated the record-breaking losing streak.

When, star goalie and team captain, Roberto Luongo was injured and the team had to rely on backup, Curtis Sanford, collective nail-biting ensued. Sanford under-performed; the other backup being groomed for the future, Cory Schneider, came and went. Vancouver picked up another goalie from L.A., Jason LaBarbera, who after a couple good efforts fell back into his natural routine of sucking really hard.

So when Luongo was ready to return, the team faced a situation of one too many goalies. With an equal degree of inferior play between Sanford (popular with the team) and LaBarbera (acquired for a measly 7th round pick), the Canucks, in their infinite wisdom, gave Sanford the boot. Coupled with the disappointing arrival of Mats, is it any wonder they've been losing?

I have to say, up until the Vancouver/San Jose game, I wasn't too worried. Every team goes through a loss or two. But watching them leading the conference-leading Sharks for two periods by a goal and then seeing them retreat into their own end and not attempt any offence for fear of turning over the puck was simply sickening.

If I'm coaching a team who hasn't been playing very well and suddenly we're ahead and playing well, I'm going to do my best to encourage more of the same. What I wouldn't do, is undercut an already emotionally vulnerable set of players by saying, "It's not like you're gonna score again. Let's just stay back in our end and hope against hope that one of the top offensive teams in the league doesn't score."

So what happens? They score and score and eventually win the game. And now the team is officially in the toilet.

What does all this mean for the fans? It means that a whole host of atrocities have led us down the path to hockey hell for which none of us can help dig them out. It means that while you want to grab each player and management staff person and shake them really hard, you have absolutely no control over what happens. Your only course of action is to bear not-so-silent witness to the tragedy and gut-wrenching disappointment that is the Vancouver Canucks.