Monkey Number 1 Says

Well, here we go...no need to worry about missing spring tee times as my beloved Canucks are done. A touch of history...bear with me here: I remember the year I began playing goal. A flyer arrived in the mail for a local hardware store that had sticks on sale for somewhere in the vicinity of two dollars. My mother and I agreed that I should have my own stick, so as to not have to always borrow from the new neighborhood kids on sweet ass Clifford Ave. I'd made some new friends in that lovely cul-de-sac and spent every glorious afternoon whittling away the hours smacking a tennis ball at a beat up old net once we'd finished our days at Happyvale Elem. I remember running home, cutting through the dirt patch where we rode our bikes for hours on end; and cruising in the front door anticipating my very own stick. My afternoons after school with my mother hold many a memory for me. Often the house smelled of bread, cookies or muffins. In this same house I remember my mom, elbow high in flour baking dozens of pies (with less expenisive wind fall apples which were sweet but tart); but none the less saving some dough for me. With it, I can recall us making beautiful strudels which we adorned with our initials made of dough. I guess I'm getting at the fact that my afternoons apre school are vivid and treasured. On the day in question, I ran through the door, waiting to see my lovely first stick. Instead I found a heavy, lumbering no name brand goaltender's stick which must have weighed at least a pound. I recall my mom at this point, not knowing the difference, and feeling every bit the silly landed immigrant. I can still see her in my minds eye, and adore her mistake. I didn't spaz out, but rather took out my stick and became the blocks goaltender. My mom went on to the Kamloops Sports Hall of Fame. I went only to adore the sport, but more importantly, watch the 82 playoffs with my folks, where my love of Canucks hockey took some deep root. Richard Brodeur captured the interest of the nation, and our home. From the day I got that stick, I've always followed my Canucks, and I will til the day they or I leave. But this said, man O man, I want this team gutted like a fish! Having taken this lovely trip down memory lane, I don't wish to spoil the mood by harping on the club's mistakes. Rather view it as an evolution of a family; one that'll have it's ups and downs.