Buggar ruined my first ever hockey game (and planted the seeds of my now flourishing hatred for the Canucks organization). It was that very game in 1994 at which I sat as an incredibly young lad, looking down with the hopeful eyes of a burgeoning Flames fan, bearing witness to the horrific sight of Bure lowering the guillotine's blade in the second OT. It was all the more horrifying to try and shuffle my then midgety body out of the Saddledome amid the maze of drunken, obnoxious Canuck fans blowing those plastic horns and shouting obscenities. Something no child should ever have to live through...
It would also more or less usher in the "dark years". It seemed as though Pavel had singlehandedly banished this team to the flaming bowels of hockey hell for many a year to come. It's one of the reasons I consider my distaste for the Canucks to be quite "organic" in nature. It wasn't a hatred that was taught, it was a hatred that was learned, experienced, and bled.
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Is your cat doing singing?
Last edited by Max Cow Disease; 07-24-2013 at 11:42 PM.
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