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The town Canucks fans love to hate
The town Canucks fans love to hate
Amidst a sea of red-clad fanatics, I lurked outside a massive stadium, studying two idealized statues.
It was like a scene from an old spy novel, working undercover in an Iron Curtain country. Yet on March 18, 2012, I was actually playing tourist somewhere far more sinister for Vancouver Canucks fans: Chicago.
Before infiltrating the United Center to observe the evil Blackhawks in National Hockey League action against Washington, I quickly photographed the bronze likenesses of Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita. This was a James Bond-style mission for my native Vancouver. (If Bond knew hockey, that is.)
The Cold War between Illinois and British Columbia has heated up with three straight playoff clashes. Chicago prevailed in 2009, and captured the Stanley Cup in 2010, while Vancouver defeated the Blackhawks in 2011 en route to the final. The last time Vancouver played in Chicago, Hawks defenceman Duncan Keith launched a retaliatory strike at Daniel Sedin's head, earning a five-game ban.
We could go to DEFCON One if these two hockey superpowers battle in the post-season again. So my goal was to gather valuable advance intelligence on Chicago, viewing everything through the prism of the NHL's hottest rivalry.
That included the enemy's attractions, shopping, and dining - because this is the travel section.
"The Madhouse on Madison" (Hawks fans freely concede their mental deficiencies with the United Center's nickname) was naturally the primary target. Once I got past those brainwashing choruses of "Chelsea Dagger" - blasted repeatedly during a 5-2 win over Washington - I discovered it's a shockingly impressive place to catch a game.
The 21,561 in attendance, who roared their way through The Star-Spangled Banner, lapped up the free giveaway: red Hawks aprons. At intermission, fans scored autographs and photos with Hawks alumnus Steve Konroyd on the concourse. From the colossal-sounding Allen Organ to the well-conditioned Ice Girls, there was some effective indoctrination going on.
The regime also shows propaganda films to keep morale up. One day, I went to Navy Pier, Lake Michigan's answer to Granville Island, and slipped into a free IMAX screening of Monuments to Excellence. Loaded with retro hockey clips and emotional, Coldplay-style music, the 42-minute feature documented the recent reconciliation of 1960s super-stars Hull and Mikita with the Hawks organization, from which they were estranged under tight-fisted ex-team owner Bill Wirtz.
I didn't ride the 150-foot-high Ferris wheel at Navy Pier, but did return there at night, amid John Le Carre-worthy fog, to see the Chicago Shakespeare Theater's presentation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The Puck character was different from my usual kind of puck, being an impish bald woman assisted by pajama-wearing fairies. Still, the cast was fantastic, including former Saturday Night Live and Second City players. (Cultured Chicago fans may sneer that Alexandre Burrows and Maxim Lapierre are bad actors. Ignore them. Ditto for quips about the quality of their French Impressionists - at the nearby, world-renowned Art Institute of Chicago - versus ours.)
While reconnoitering the 1893-founded Field Museum's special Genghis Khan exhibition (running till September), I realized the fearsome Mongolian conqueror merely presaged future Hawks and Canucks coach Mike Keenan. Amid the displays of 13th-century armour, weapons, and nomadic tents, I mentally substituted Keenan's name when I encountered quotes like "Was Genghis Khan the medieval monster of legend?" or "His philosophy was that there should be one khan, as there is one sun in the heavens." Almost invariably, it made sense. The dictatorial rule of Genghis Keenan was as terrifying as the superbly preserved Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton that looms in the Field Museum's lobby.
In its own way, Chicago's looming architecture is as awe-inspiring as Moscow's. Chicago's skyscrapers are mostly higher, and some contain nods to local hockey culture.
At the Willis Tower (ex-Sears Tower), the U.S.'s tallest building at 1,451 feet, I discovered pucks autographed by Hull and Mikita in a display just before taking the elevator up to admire the Skydeck's urban panorama. (Mikita's cultural contributions aren't limited to his Wayne's World cameos: he also donated hockey equipment to the Chicago History Museum.)
The John Hancock Observatory provided not just a 360-degree city view, but also a synthetic ice rink, where Blackhawks trainers give hockey lessons on Mondays from January to April.
However, don't be misled by such educational initiatives. Censorship is alive and well in the Evil Empire of Chicago.
For instance, the links between one-time Hawks owner James D. Norris and notorious Chi-town mobsters like Sammy "Golf Bag" Hunt are detailed in 1991's Net Worth: Exploding the Myths of Profession-al Hockey by David Cruise and Alison Griffiths. |
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