Jock Talk with Joel Charron: Game 7

I’ve been through Game 7’s before.

I’ve sat on the couch, leading forward, biting my fingertips until they hurt.

I’ve erupted in jubilation and hung my head in most upsetting defeats.

But this…hmmmm, this was something in which I’ve never experienced before.

As most of Amherstburg has found out these NHL playoffs, I am a Vancouver Canucks fan, a very proud (and sometimes loud) Canucks fan.

For me, watching the Canucks battle through a gauntlet of opponents all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals has been an exhilarating rollercoaster ride…until Game 7.

Before the Game 7, I didn’t care the Boston Bruins outscored the Canucks 17-3 in Boston.

They were playing in Boston, Game 7 was in Vancouver and the Bruins were 0-3 with two shutouts on Canadian ice.

That Wednesday, I showed my support to my team by proudly wearing my jersey. All day I had an excited, anxious and confident feeling and told people they were on drugs when they told me they were routing for the Bruins to win.

I was so sure that June 15, 2011 would always be remembered as the day the Canucks won their first cup in franchise history.

But that date is going to have to wait. I can’t really celebrate when the Boston skates onto Vancouver ice and delivers a 4-0 hockey clinic and hoist the cup in front of home fans.

My “I remember when” moment quickly evolved into “I want to forget” disaster. I watched the game at Shaun’s house, knowing if the Canucks win, Shaun would have to pull my jersey over his head and pose for a few pictures with me.

Everything was fine until Patrice Bergeron scored with just over six minutes left in the first period. Although there was plenty of hockey left, when that piece of frozen rubber slid past the goal line, a small part of me thought, “Crap, we just lost the Cup.”

Then that weasel Brad Marchand scored, that was like getting sucker punched by your sister.

As the game wore on I got quieter and quieter, when Bergeron scored his second goal of the game (which shouldn’t have counted) I was so speechless I couldn’t even find the words to swear at the TV.

Entering the third period, I knew it was over. There was no way Tim Thomas was going to let in four goals.

With five minutes left, I looked at Bree and asked her to leave. There was no way I was going to watch Boston lift the Lord Stanley on Vancouver ice.

It was too painful to watch.

As we rode home, my phone went off notifying me of a Boston empty net goal and then shortly after it went off again to show me the final score.

That loss, cut like a knife. I admit it a few tears were shed; sad didn’t explain what I felt. I wanted to see my team win a Stanley Cup instead I saw them get shut out in the biggest game of the Canucks 40 year history.

I was happy for a few Boston fans, Beaudy, Johnny, Karen and Jerry, all whom I had friendly bets. I’m glad they were able to see their team win.

But the rest of you Boston fans, I loath your cup win, I despise your cup win. I hope this is your last cup for 100 years.

Boston was once in my top five favorite hockey teams…not any more.

I still haven’t and never will watch highlights or read any article about Game 7.

I simply plan on going through life pretending that Game 7 just didn’t happen. That’s is until I see Beaudy, Johnny, Karen or Jerry because I’m sure they’ll never let me forget.

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