Shacks' Sunday Canuck Take - The Wall - 03/11/12

I started blogging recently yet might be the Canucks oldest blogger and after this post I might have made myself the most hated blogger in Vancouver too. 

I have a dream. Well I have a few dreams but this specific dream entails putting a Canuck jersey on my wall.  Unfortunately, no Canuck qualifies for the wall. 

In order to qualify for the wall, you have to be a hall of famer or as sure fire as it gets. 

A signed Joe Sakic 2002 Olympic jersey is on the wall thanks to his MVP performance and because there’s no way I’m ever going to display a Colorado Avalanche jersey.   Martin Brodeur’s as well.  Stevie Y in both Canada and Detroit colours adorns it. 

There’s the picture of Bobby Orr soaring through the air, which started my memorabilia pursuit, and Brett Favre and Joe Montana autographed helmets. Singletary and Manning share a home with Belliveau and Howe.

The photo that started it all.  I love this picture. 

For local flavour I have a Steve Nash photo— I had a Cam Neely but somehow the glass was broken last year and scratched the retirement print, now it’s in the garage. 

The one thing missing, next to these greats on the wall, is a Canuck.

I moved to Vancouver the year they started playing in the NHL and my Dad had season tickets for the first five years.  Charlie Hodge was my first hero, which made no sense but what child makes sense?  We’d throw hip checks playing road hockey and called it a ‘Robitaille’ after the Canucks d-man known for his hard checks.

In the inaugural season Hodge was 15-13-5 with a 3.42 GAA for the expansion team. Dunc Wilson was  3-25-2 with a 4.29 GAA. Even as a child I'd ask my Dad why Hodge didn't start every game.

I remember how Andre Boudrias would excite the building and that Gary “Suitcase” Smith finally brought us a winning team.  The rough and tumble memories of Schmautz, Ververgaert, Guevremont and Kurtenbach and the bench clearing brawls of the 70’s still bring a smile.

Vancouver's first captain Orland Kuertenbach.  

An image that will never leave me is of Glen Hanlon crying after we tied Montreal in the regular season (that’s right tied – if you want to know how far we’ve come, the Nuck’s had 2 wins and 35 losses in 42 games against Montreal in the seventies - 2-5-35 a seriously depressing decade). He cried again after we traded him.

The Kid line of Gradin, the Steamer and one-punch Curt Fraser led the way in the 80’s when I bought a standing room ticket from a scalper for $10 to see the Stanley cup finals and saw the trophy paraded by the opposition on home ice for the first time. 

It’s easy to reminisce about the characters of this era: ‘the chief’ Ron Delorme, Harold Snepst, ‘Tiger’ Williams and Jack McIlhargey. Not an ounce of skill amongst them but a lot of fun to watch every night.

Everyone loved Haaaaroooold. 

I can still see Trevor Linden pulling on a jersey at the 1988 draft.   The hope he inspired scoring 30 goals as an 18-year old rookie is only rivaled by the beauty of Pavel Bure’s end-to-end rush against Winnipeg in his first game— these were milestone memories, moments in which rookies inspired a sense of greatness. 

Then came the bittersweet memories of ’94:

Sweet: McLean’s pad save off Reichel, Brown to Bure for the breakaway double OT winner, the two greatest calls in Canuck history, “Greg Adams, Greg Adams. Adams scores the winner.  The Canucks are going to the Stanley Cup Finals!!” and  “He’ll play” (I got tears in my eyes looking these up again) and Linden duct taping his body together to try and carry the boys to glory.

  

Bitter: Lafayette’s goalpost and the final result. It felt like a stomach punch and it lasted about three weeks because I knew it was a lightning-in-a-bottle moment.  We all recall the picture of Trevor and Kirk embracing after game six, Linden’s blood soaked jersey a symbol of everything they had given to get to that point.  My personal wounds ripped open again a few years back during a trip to New York and Madison Square Gardens, seeing all the pictures from the other side.  There were pictures of Messier, Leetch and Richter celebrating, it made me want to re-enact the ’94 riot in the MSG memorabilia store.

I still have nightmares of Mark Messier in a Vancouver jersey and how it seemed to strip something special from Trevor.  That rat bastard was the gift that kept on screwing us.

Mogilny’s sublime skills mingle in my mind with Lumme’s forays into the offensive zone.  The talent level in this decade, the Courtenalls, Ronning, Adams and Gelinas seemed to indicate a brighter future while Brashear and Odjick made every game must see.

Local hero, little Cliffy Ronning sure was a nifty player.  

As the 90’s became a new century, the West Coast Express, Naslund, Bertuzzi & Morrison captured my imagination.  I fondly recall imagining the possibilities as the best line in hockey finally played for my team.  Memories of Lidstrom’s centre ice shot and Steve Moore lying prone on the ice at GM Place quickly erase the goodwill I felt from this era. 

Fortunately, I can always think of Brian Burke saying there’s no one leaving this draft with the twins but the Vancouver Canucks to bring the smile back, and there isn’t a Canuck fan alive that doesn’t get a chill thinking of Trevor coming home.

The Sedins on draft day.  Funny seeing them this young. 

The most recent memories are probably the best considering the unprecedented success.  Luongo’s first year was the best ever from a Canuck goalie. Both Sedins winning back-to-back Art Ross trophies while Kesler wins a Selke.

It warms me knowing a local boy, Dan Hamhuis, finally spurned the easier travel and higher profile of playing in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh to return home and help the local side to the ultimate goal.  Bieksa, Kes, the Sedins and Burrows all spurning more money to build something special.

Dan Hamhuis being the first BC boy to take a discount to come home and help win a cup makes him one of my favourites.  

Last years season holds a special spot despite the result, but this time it cost me $420 through a friend with connections for the pleasure of watching another team parade the cup on our ice.           

These are just some of the memories that I hold onto as a Canuck fan.  I’ve been here since the beginning and the only other team I cheer wears a red and white maple leaf and plays only on special occasions.  

I love this team but when it comes to my wall no one gets special treatment. 

If you’ve read my Canuck articles, you’ll know I’m not emotional in my writing.  I don’t write as a fan but objectively break down and analyze a situation.  It’s why I could see Cody Hodgson’s departure in advance.  I loved Cody and I didn’t want him traded, I wanted him to turn into the next Jonathan Toews or Joe Sakic, a great Canadian leader who could put his team on his back and take them to the promised land.

But l couldn’t ignore the smoke signals Canuck management was sending up, my logic outweighed my want, it’s how I’m wired.  The same rules go for my wall.

I love Trevor as a human being, as an ambassador of the city and as a Canuck but he never regained the magic of ’94 and his career, while magnificent by Canuck standards, comes up well short of hall of fame credentials.

If there was a Canuck picture on my wall it would be this one.

Naslund seemed like a really nice guy and he was a great Canuck but he’ll have to show the usher a ticket to enter the hall. 

Pavel Bure can spawn a debate that could last hours but he will never be on my wall.   Too divisive and completely unaware of what the word ‘team’ means. He's the original Alex Ovechkin, sublime talent but his ego gets in the way.  

The latest group of Canucks offers some hope for the future.  The Sedins are three or four great seasons from inclusion.  Luongo’s one or two great cup runs from having a chance.  Kesler, though unlikely, could string a run of great years together and have a chance but none of them are a sure thing for the wall.

Somehow that transcendent talent has eluded the local squad.  No Gretzky, no Lemieux, not even a Sakic, Iginla, Jagr or Yzerman.  In 41 years we’ve never had that special talent, only a couple of players that brought hope but for various reasons faded.

In 1990 we could have drafted this mullet but instead chose Petr Nedved because he played junior for Seattle which made better PR.  Even Nedved knew Jagr was better and was quoted as saying, "he's better than me."when he was drafted 3 spots later.   

There is one more hope though.  Because of last year’s run I changed the criteria for inclusion.  If the Canucks win the Stanley cup, the Canuck who wins the Conn Smythe trophy winner will be displayed on the wall with a starring position.

That’s where my hopes lie now. 

I have my memories, they’re as big a part of me as anything else in my life and they run deep.  I hope sooner rather than later somebody on Vancouver gives me something more that can hang on my wall.