Just when it was beginning to feel good about being a Canucks fan again, Mark Messier reared his ugly bald head and forcibly re-entered our lives and it sucked worse than seeing your pyscho ex on a bus.
The story broke last week that Messier might be owed a large sum of money from the Vancouver Canucks due to a clause in his contract that guaranteed him a payout tied to the franchise’s value increasing.
I don’t know the exact details of the clause, no one does yet, and it might come out during the arbitration hearing but until it does it allows me to ignore the legal specifics of the story and shoot straight from the hip in open letter to everyone’s favourite chia pet.
Just go away dude. Please.
If the franchise’s value increased during your career here it definitely wasn’t because of anything good you did.
You were an Edmonton Oilers in the 80s when they treated the Canucks like a chew toy. You were a New York Ranger in 1994.
You hacked Trevor Linden at the end of game 6 behind the play, inspiring Jim Robson’s famous call of “He’ll play, you know he’ll play, he’ll play on crutches!”.
You took that the last part of that Robson line to heart during your time in Vancouver, spending three years looking like you were playing on crutches.
You signed in Vancouver because god knows why and promptly ripped the C off Linden’s chest and made him cry publicly.
He was traded shortly after.
I’ll never forget that kid’s mom bursting into our classroom just before the final bell, tears in her eyes, delivering the horrible news.
You couldn’t even keep your grubby paws off the number 11, unofficially retired by the Canucks after the death of Wayne Maki.
The team sucked out of the gate in your first year and you got Pat Quinn fired and helped bring in Mike Keenan who for some reason hated the heart and soul holdovers from the 94 team like Martin Gelinas and Kirk McLean. So he traded them.
Gino Odjick called a spade a spade when he accused you of dogging it so you could bring in your cronies.
It was a dark dark time to be a Canucks fan.
The out-of-town satellite dad owner John McCaw was losing money left right and centre and rumours began to swirl the team could move to Seattle or Portland.
As the story goes, Pat Quinn was all set to sign a very willing Wayne Gretzky to the Vancouver Canucks until he panicked at called the Great One at 3 am with a sign now or else ultimatum.
Gretzky was pissed and the deal fell through.
You were the plan B, but what a plan B we thought at the time. We had visions of Stanley Cups in your heads.
What we got instead was a player with the intensity and impact of a bag of Lay’s potato chips.
But in a weird way you did help raise the value and profile of the franchise.
By forcing the trade of Trevor Linden, you brought Todd Bertuzzi to Vancouver as well as Bryan McCabe, who was instrumental in the wheeling and dealing for the Sedins.
You were here when the Canucks flipped Alex Stojanov for Markus Naslund. Yours and Keenan’s suckiness also allowed for the hiring of Brian Burke.
So I have no idea what your clause specifically stated, and maybe you are owed money in the eyes of the law, but I really really hope the Canucks pay you with a dump truck full of pennies and we never have to hear from you again.
Bye. See you never.