“That’ll be $100.”
“Do you have any cheaper seats?”
“Just the $100 ones are left.”
I laugh and walk away.
No way. On a whim I decided the day of the match to go catch the final game of the Vancouver Whitecaps debut season in the MLS. I am not about to pay $100 to see a bunch of underachieving, over rated ‘soccer’ players lose (which they did) again, (which they did 18 times this season, managing a shameful six wins) for that price.
How, exactly, is that appreciating the fans who have supported this train wreck of a season? At that price I should be at least be on the bench or permitted a throw-in, lord knows I couldn’t do any worse than the product the Whitecaps put on the field this in year.
In their first season…
in a very average league.
The owners can call it Major League Soccer if they wish, but any real fan knows the best in the world are not playing in North America. This is the major league for the never-got-theres, the retirees-from-overseas and the not-there-yets. Any player with real skill will end up in Europe, unless they are acutely homesick. This is not The Premiership, La Liga or Serie A, it’s might be Scottish Second division, on a good day.
The way the Whitecaps have underperformed throughout the season, if I wanted to see competitive football, I’d be better off going to a local field and watching some Metro Men’s teams play.
I find it inexcusable and inexplicable for this team to have the audacity to demand $100 for a single seat. It is their first year in MLS and they’ve managed to accumulate six wins – eighteen losses and ten draws for a paltry 28 points and last in the entire league.
How do they plan to build their brand when it is cheaper to go to CFL football game where there is a chance that the BC Lions will actually win?
When the highlight of the final match is a chant between the Southsiders (loyal to the core fans) and another section, I realize I’m thankful the Whitecaps are doing their utmost to alienate casual fans into finding other, more worthy investments of their disposable income.
The Whitecaps have just completed their first dismal season in MLS. They do not have the 40 year love affair with the city the Vancouver Canucks have forged over time. From being perennial whipping boys to being legitimate contenders for Lord Stanley’s Cup. Nor do they sport the 57 year continuous reign of the BC Lions of the CFL.
Yet, I suspect the Whitecaps will endure, in spite of their horrible record and laughable hyperbole (“Seattle made the playoffs their first year, why not us?” – pre-season oversell) and delusional marketing and pricing – mostly because Vancouver is an international melting pot and the number of first and second generation families from foreign lands where football is king suggests that the fans will show up.
There just happens to be a very good chance that those fans will root for the other teams unless the Whitecaps get their heads out of the sand at Second Beach and realize that they currently are the red-headed stepchild of the Vancouver sporting scene and the lustre will soon rub off if they continue to overprice and underperform.
I must confess, I had a great time at the other game I attended.
I’m positive that the players don’t miss changing in tents before and after games, but for me, the Vancouver Whitecaps should be affordable entertainment with the North Shore mountains as the backdrop of an outdoor pitch, not cooped up in the occasionally opened confines of BC Place stadium.
I do hope all the fans appreciated the new look BC Place Stadium, since the team on the field was the same as it showed all season.
***
Out of negative things, positive spins
I fell asleep on the couch and awoke to the phone ringing. My brother asks me if I would mind volunteering the next day for a Pumpkin Cross bike race. He didn’t pressure me but they were short on volunteers and I could dress up if I wanted to as it had a Halloween theme.
I thought it over for a few moments before agreeing to go and help out where I could.
Sunday dawned sunny and bright in stark contrast to the grey gloom of yesterday (which I think was nature’s way of disapproving of how the Whitecaps run their ‘fan appreciation’). Having about 12 hours to sort a costume, if I so chose, I ended up digging through my closet to discover attire I purchased during my university days, a 70s polyester cacophony of mauve dress shirt, lime green trousers with a matching mauve n’ green translucent scarf. Plus gumboots since I’d be standing in a horse pasture for over four hours.
My job ended up being amazingly easy, but also necessary.
Now, I need to explain cyclocross racing briefly. It’s a mix of cross country and road bike racing, and a lot of fun. Essentially riders follow a course for a set length of time. The winner is the one who finishes first. There are various challenges to the ride, including being forced to unclip from their bikes and run around certain obstacles.
That’s pretty much it.
What makes the Pumpkin Cross so much fun is that in addition to having heaps of riders negotiating narrow corners and tight turns, many of them were dressed up for the costume portion of the event. It’s not every day where the results official wears a halo, the official lap counter and bell ringer (me!) is in his disco 70s polyester perfection, and the MCs are the forth Bee Gees brother and a clown (my brother – he was dressed as a clown, he wasn’t a clown).
Plus a slew of riders rode in costume. Gene Simmons and Angus Young battled it out on the course and in the costume contest, Woody from Toy Story tried to outride a horse n’ jockey, giraffes battled nurses, knights challenged devils and rastafarians and skeletons while riding along dikes, past rivers and through the Spooky Forest.
I mean, it isn’t every day Batman wins a cyclocross race on his Batcycle, although Adam West never pedalled anything that hard in his life, except maybe his breakout (of Batman’s cowl) role as Captain Rick Wright in the Last Precinct.
Or a small spider can attack me with hugs and laughter (my niece) as I dutifully ignore my volunteer duties to play with her for a few minutes, before she and her clown-father had to go into the youth cyclocross race.
Or where I can watch reigning world champion, Catharine Pendrel, carve up the course… while dressed as a butterfly. Narrowly defeating her local rival.
The organizers, Local Ride, were fortunate in that the weather invited a great day on the course, and while there weren’t a lot of spectators, the cost was free and there calibre of riding world class… as well as costume class. The riders enjoyed themselves it seemed to me, well, as much as they could after riding for 45 minutes to an hour.
Oh, and as a volunteer, I received two cups of coffee AND a smokie for FREE! (From Nona’s rather busy Snack Shack.)
The Whitecaps should take note on how to show appreciation.
I’m rather glad the soccer game priced itself out of reason and reach for me, since otherwise I might have missed the opportunity to ring the last lap bell and have my clown of brother ask for the number of laps left by grabbing the mic and calling out for ‘Disco Byron’.
Is there a morale to this story?
I suppose there is, a few of them really, but I think they should be fairly evident already.
(Unless you work for the Whitecaps’ marketing department.)
Ride on you beautiful world class butterflies.
(Even up amongst your own cactii cross.)
Byron and his backpacks 
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