Image by Getty Images via @daylifAs I watched my beloved Canucks lose game seven from my tiny and overpriced urban enclave in this great Canadian city, I decided to head out to the magnificent neighbourhood that I call home.My team lost, and I'm angry.
I try to tip over a truck, but those things are even heavier than they look.
I decide that kicking in some windows would be a brilliant expression of my hatred, but I realise that those windows belong to my fellow citizens and they represent the fabric of my community.
I briefly consider setting someone elses shit on fire.
Then it occurs to me that it is a fucking hockey game and I don't live in Vancouver, I live in Toronto, a city that thankfully never gets anywhere close to winning anything of import.
While I'm sad that my team lost, I am deeply ashamed to be connected to a game that results in such violence both on and off the ice.
And a note to the big craniums in Vancouver who thought it was a good idea to invite massive crowds into the streets because it worked during the Olympics, think again.
Another note to both the NHL and NHL culture: As a future former fan of the game, I don't care to see unconcious people on their back holding their comatose arms in the air, zombie like. I also don't care to see people suffering major spinal injuries, and the convulsions are not nearly as entertaining as your data might show. Ditto for the concussions.
Is it any surprise that the violence that is promoted in the game spills onto the streets?
Goodbye NHL, I am no longer interested in buying what you are selling.
After 39 years, it is time for me and hockey to go our seperate ways.
And on a meaningless sidenote, congratulations to the Boston Bruins, as much as you broke my heart, you were the better team, and I am sorry that your victory was marred by such stupidity.
http://www.goyestoeverything.com
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