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A collective hangover has descended upon Vancouver, but unlike the foggy mornings of so many epic frat-like binges, all traces of revelry have seemingly disappeared from the crowd-beaten core of downtown
Awakening this morning with a smile-swelling still fresh in my cheeks, I stared at the Canadian flag that only hours ago flew high above the crowds, attached to a 6-foot bamboo rod, but now stands limp in the corner of my room. The horns and bells have stopped on the street below and the sound of the bus coming and going has reclaimed its spot amongst the sounds of the city.
A drink of water helps to wash last night's taste from my mouth and as I slide my hockey jersey over my head for one last victory walk through the downtown on my way to Geist, I half expect to see cape-donning stragglers wandering around the city; a stumbling and forgotten few whose heads still spin from the biggest party they have ever seen. But that isn’t the case.
Remarkably, there is virtually no garbage, no partiers, and fewer people observing the chaos than there are working to tear it all down. Robson Square is desolate. Clean, but desolate. I can’t even detect any expected smells of liquor, sweat, or firework's sulphur. Slowly as it came, I am sad to say, quickly it is gone.
But will it be gone for long? Doubtful. An Olympic finish of that magnitude should keep people going for quite sometime. Just because Canada has called in sick today to nurse one of the most deserved hangovers of our generation, doesn’t mean we won’t be back out there soon, hooting, hollering and waving the flag of one proud nation.
The point however, is not to forget the important problems in our country/city, but rather to recognize the positive power of our people coming together, and try to harness this energy in a positive direction, moving forward with the same drive and determination as last night’s victory march down Granville St.
