What if the Canucks had won the Cup? A fantasy news report

VANCOUVER, B.C.—It was a dream come true for long-suffering hockey fans here in Vancouver. Last night, for the first time in its 40 year existence, the Vancouver Canucks won the biggest prize in professional hockey—the Stanley Cup—with a narrow 1-0 victory over the visiting Boston Bruins. The entire city erupted in a joyful celebration that made the party following last year’s Olympic gold medal win by Team Canada seem more like a wake.

The winning goal was pure storybook—at least as far as the Canucks were concerned. With just six seconds remaining in the third period, scrappy Bruins forward Brad Marchand—who’d been a constant irritation for Vancouver throughout the series—attempted to clear the puck from behind the Boston net, only to have it take an extremely weird bounce, carom off the forehead of veteran teammate Mark Recchi, and dribble—as if in slow motion—right through the legs of astonished Bruin goalkeeper Tim Thomas.

At that point the estimated crowd of 17,000 at Rogers Arena started into a deafening chant of “We Got the Cup!” that carried on for more than 38 straight minutes. It was impossible to make out a single word uttered by NHL commissioner Gary Bettman while he—clearly flustered by the disrespect displayed in the unwavering ovation—sheepishly awarded a dejected-looking Thomas the Conn Smythe Trophy for most valuable player in the playoffs.

The jubilation inside the arena was nothing compared to that shown a couple of blocks away, however, at the corner of downtown Vancouver’s Georgia and Hamilton Streets. A crowd that city officials would later deem as larger than 100,000 went, to use a common Canadian term, ”absolutely apeshit” after the win, jumping up and down, screaming, and then jumping up and down some more. Many of the elated Canucks fans were clad in the team’s dark-blue home jerseys, so the scene resembled a whorling sea of ecstatically embracing bodies.

“I can’t believe this is happening in Vancouver!", bellowed one muscular, tattooed young man who appeared to be in his early 20s. It was obvious that this fellow had had too much to drink, but that didn’t stop him from stumbling over to where a despondent Bruins fan in a Bobby Orr jersey was curled up in the fetal position near a curb. “It’s okay buddy, there’s always next year!,” offered the Canuck fan, helping his grieving rival to his feet and giving him a friendly pat on the back.

At the height of the post-game celebration in Vancouver’s downtown core, when it seemed as if things might veer out of control and somebody might faint or something, an unlikely incident occurred. One of the police cars stationed near the perimeter of the crowd started to smoke. It had been left idling too long, it appeared, and was dangerously overheating. Flames licked up from under the hood, and the constable behind the wheel leapt out in a panic, not sure of what to do. “Don’t worry officer, I’ve got this!” yelled a rough-looking man in a Ryan Kesler jersey, before darting from the crowd, lifting the car hood, and extinguishing the blaze with the contents of a green-and-red can.

”Oh man, that was my last Pilsner!”, exclaimed #17, before exchanging high-fives with the relieved cop and rejoining the happy mob.