<table border=0 align=center width=80%><tr><td><img src=http://cdn.nhl.com/canucks/images/upload/2007/07/mikeblog.gif border=0 align=left vspace=1 hspace=4>The thing about sports is so many people follow it, often times with great passion, because in part it gives us a reprieve from the stresses of life and, yes, having to deal with some of the more unpleasant parts of simply being human. Bad day at school or work? It’s ok, the game’s on.
Some others may jump headlong into books, meditate, some dedicate every ounce of themselves to families or volunteering, some go into a bar and don't leave until dawn; whatever the case, we all need our outlets to relax and enjoy the time we have.
So when sports suddenly departs from the script we expect and reminds us of the very things we quite likely don't want to be thinking about, it feels even more personal, more unfair and more tragic.
<img src=http://cdn.nhl.com/canucks/images/upload/2007/09/luc01_09082007_t.jpg border=0 align=right vspace=1 hspace=4>I never met Luc (heck, I've never met any Canuck...damn time zones) but we all felt like we "knew" him to some degree. Just as with every guy on the team: they're our guys, our soldiers, our "family" (After all, "we are all Canucks"). We crunch their numbers like GMs, watch their shifts, scrutinize their mistakes and root for them so badly to succeed. Why? Since we are basically living through them and their success; if they succeed, in a roundabout way, so do we.
Don't believe me? Picture the Canucks winning the Stanley Cup and Luongo holding that chalice over his head to the deafening roar of an ecstatic GM Place. Feels good huh?
Luc was special because of how he came to the team: the #1 pick from the Crosby draft, promised to be the anchor of the blueline for years which, with the lockout ending and hockey's long nightmare ending, just whetted the appetite for fans even more. We saw even more of him this year because of how depleted the defense was due to injuries.
<img src=http://cdn.nhl.com/canucks/images/upload/2008/03/MAR3008_Canucks-Flames06_t.jpg border=0 align=left vspace=1 hspace=4>I remember his second goal like it was yesterday; against Tampa Bay, the Canucks came roaring out of the gate and Alex Burrows found Bourdon all alone (I wrote at the time he was 'filthy wide open') and he blasted it home over Karri Ramo. I remember then thinking "there it is, that's the guy we drafted!". As Steve Tambellini said of Luc, "He was just on the cusp of realizing what he was going to become...we all were just starting to see the real person."
That, in and of itself, makes it all the more sad and unfair.
I've heard and read a lot in the past 24 hours on how much he'll be missed and that makes perfect sense. But something about just missing seems too passive to me. I like it better when I hear he'll be remembered; on the forums of this very site someone recommended giving money in his name to Canucks Place and, since then, I have seen at least three independent Canuck blogs pick that sentiment up and spread the word. The NHL is having a moment of silence prior to the third game of the Stanley Cup finals (easily one of the biggest games of the year) for Bourdon to help honor and remember him.
The simplest way to remember him, obviously, is just not to forget him. Remember the name Luc Bourdon as a part of the greater family we're all in. A name we can't forget because we can’t forget him during his brief time here as one of our guys, our soldiers and our Canucks.