While I’ve been away from blogging for a while in lieu of trying to actually graduate this year, I haven’t been away from hockey. I’ve watched or listened to every game, skipped class to catch the 2nd period, and stumbled home drunk from the Pit in the rain, snow and shine after a win or a loss.

I’ve been eagerly anticipating Trevor Linden Night for some time. When I arrived at GM Place, there were lots of people looking for tickets. We had ours.

A friend of mine was trying to sell off a pair of tickets in order to upgrade to lowers. He’s never done this before. My friend was approached by a man who wanted to get a close look at the tickets and was trying to pull them out of my friend’s hands. My friend resisted. wanting to keep a grip on the tickets; the man got angry.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I know your fucking game. You fucking brown guys are all alike. You’re all crooks. You’re why tickets are so expensive with your fucking scams. Fucking brown guys. Fuck you—I’m not falling for this, you fucking Paki.”

That was unbelievable. In all of my years of living in Vancouver—shit, son, I grew up here—that was the first time I’ve ever witnessed actual racial hatred being spewed at anyone.

I’m not going to recount my friends’ background or his successes at various levels in university, where we met. He’s not better than that man because he’s smarter or more successful; he’s better than that man because he’s not a racist dumbass.

Are people getting more ignorant, or has this always been the case? Either way, we got into Trevor Linden Night, watched Trev’s numbers being raised, watched a pretty fun game, got coffee, went home and tucked into bed. I don’t know what happened to that guy, but hopefully it involved a little karmic retribution.