WHAT THE CANUCK?

This past May the Boston Bruins shut out the Vancouver Canucks 4-0 in game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, making them only the fourth road team in NHL history to win a game 7.

Needless to say it was a tough loss for the favored Canucks who led the league in scoring and compiled the best record of the regular season. But even more brutal was the fact that they jumped out to an early two game lead. Yet somehow the scrappy Bruins, who had faced elimination in both the first round and the conference finals, were once again able to defy the odds and outscore their Canadian counterparts 23-8 in the series, claiming what columnist Helene Elliot describes as, "The toughest trophy to win in professional sports."

That evening as the final minutes ticked off the game clock fans found themselves filing out of Rogers Arena onto the chaotic streets of downtown Vancouver where police cars were burning and tear gas was being deployed to control the angry drunken crowd that was slinging bottles, smashing storefront windows, and setting garbage cans ablaze. The morning papers called it, "An all out riot." Canucks captain Henrik Sedin simply said, "This city and province has a lot to be proud of, it's too bad."

I'm a true-blue Kings fan, have been ever since their inaugural season in '67 when the Great Western Forum first opened its doors here in Inglewood California. Like the Canucks, the Kings have yet to earn the distinct honor of hoisting Lord Stanley's Cup, and like the Canucks, they too have come disappointingly close. It was in '93 against the Canadians, all looked promising for the Kings as they convincingly took game 1 of the finals only to have three straight heartbreaking overtime loses followed by a 4-1 defeat in game 5 crush any hopes of bringing the Cup home to L.A.

But that season the Los Angeles Kings lost more than just their best ever bid for the Cup. Our Dad who passed away a few months earlier that year was the consummate Kings fan. But more than that, he was a hockey fan; a sports fan. Born and raised in Europe he played semi pro soccer before coming here to the U.S. in '54, and although his fondness for the game never fully took hold on me, his inborn ability to play it most definitely did. Thus, from the age of eight to about fifteen I was affectionately dubbed the wunderkind, simply known throughout the soccer community as, "Number 10."

All accolades aside, however, those really were some wonderful times, because it was really during those times that my Dad, both as a coach and as a Father, shared with me not only his infinite love and lore of soccer, but instilled in me the true spirit of sport. A spirit I'm so proud to say is still very much alive and well today.

This past May that spirit, that emotional energy, filled Rogers Arena right up to the rafters. You could see it, sense it, and feel it. And whether you were a Canucks fan, a Bruins fan, or a little league baseball fan you had to love it. As for the athletes themselves I just can't imagine it gettin much better than this. I mean to suddenly be a part of something you've dreamed about and dedicated yourself to year after year after year, something so rich in history and tradition, it's gotta be the thrill of a lifetime, and quite the privilege to boot.

Sport isn't about one game, one series, or one season. Nor is it just about your team or my team. This time around the Bruins proved to be the better team, and as a result, were deservedly crowned Stanley Cup champions. But the way I see it, everyone was a winner that night in Vancouver, except of course for those Canuckleheads raising havoc in the streets. And again, it's too bad, because in sports, as in life, nobody likes a loser. See ya next time. Till then, keeep it up.