So a weird thing happened as soon as I started this project. It started writing itself. There was The New Pornographers on TV, and a kind of epic rainstorm, and a Skytrain photo on my dashboard. There was even an email from a friend in LA, ordering me to go see Cory Monteith playing his hometown show. Now the Canucks are leading the Western Conference finals, seven wins away from the Stanley Cup. None of this was planned, you understand. I didn’t know when I bought my plane ticket that my last month in Vancouver would be the Vancouverest.
You remember Stephen Brunt. He made that amazing video essay at the end of the 2010 Olympics. The one about that odd feeling when the rest of the world notices Canada is there, and winning. Being from BC feels the same, only you’re waiting for your own country to turn its head. I don’t know how often you’ve looked at a map of Canada, but there’s an ocean on one side of BC, a mountain range on the other, and we border two US states. We’re cut off from everyone. It’s taught us to fend for ourselves, to make our own identity, a patchwork of every refugee who finds themself knocked to the edge.
Nobody who cheers for the Canucks is expecting Canada to join the bandwagon on the way to the Cup. We’re mostly amused that the Toronto media have made a story out of their own indifference. Maybe we deserve it. I mean, we don’t like Toronto, let alone the Leafs, and our Calgary rivalry is well-established. We can do this without you. Don’t worry.
But it would be really nice if you came along.