I made a mistake as an eight-year-old.
It wasn’t my last, but it may have been my worst.
I became a Vancouver Canucks fan.
This is obviously a hyperbole. But things fused to our egos are too easily exaggerated.
In 1982, I watched the Canucks unexpectedly reach the Stanley Cup Final. It was glorious. I fell in love with Captain Stan “Steamer” Smyl, Thomas Gradin and Dave “Tiger” Williams. And, of course, before there was the magnificent King Henrik there was the shorter, fatter and equally magnificent King Richard. In 1982, I watched what happens when an underdog meets a truly great team.