I have come to believe that the Vancouver Canucks are the Neal Stephenson of playoff hockey: they start out strong, but can’t write an ending to save their lives.

(The judges would also have accepted “Douglas Coupland”.)


I’m in Amsterdam right now, enjoying the techie buzz of XTech and participating in a horizontal study on the relative merits of different jet lag compensation strategies. (I think mconnor is in the placebo group, the poor thing.)

While this is a pretty fun thing, it does mean that I am separated by geography, time zone, and the limits of our global media village from the fastest game on ice. Instead of watching Edmonton maul the unworthy Sharks on a high-definition television, whilst enjoying the dulcet tones of the finest hockey commentary on television, I have been reduced to sitting in my hotel room reloading the play by play and cheering with Jacob on IRC:


(To be fair, which I realize is not really how this sort of thing is usually done, the Sharks have some good talent and have put it together pretty well. Edmonton just wanted it more, or left it all on the ice, or took it one period at a time, or something. Perhaps they followed the sage and nuanced advice of a Boston-area sportscaster, and combined “take an early lead” with “play strong defense”?)

(And furthermore, I probably wouldn’t have been quite as emphatic in my side-picking in this contest, even given my heritage, had I not been subjected to the criminal overuse of the Jaws theme during those replays on FSN.)