Delayed, Denied, and Defiant: A Weekend of Rugby and Air Canada’s Incompetence
Thursday began with optimism. Bags packed, dogs hugged, and a leisurely morning in Encinitas before heading to the airport for what should have been a straightforward, three-hour flight to Vancouver. The rugby sevens tournament awaited—a glorious international spectacle of elite athleticism and unhinged fandom, a tradition I’ve upheld across multiple cities over the years. But then, in a display of corporate apathy so blatant it should be studied in business schools, Air Canada got involved.
My original 11:45 AM flight? A mirage. Some weeks after taking my money, Air Canada pulled the old bait-and-switch, rebooking me on a 4 PM flight instead. Their business model seems to be to offer consumers a robust array of flight times that fit virtually any schedule, only to, upon receipt of the passenger’s funds, consolidate travelers onto dramatically-altered itineraries that fit only the bottom line of Air Canada and the year-end bonuses of its executive leadership team.
The morning of my departure, my trusty travel app—TripCase—chirped to inform me that the flight had been bumped to 5:10 PM. A text from Air Canada confirmed the news sometime later, as if they had only just figured it out themselves.
And so it went. The delays kept rolling in, each one accompanied by a text message, as if the mere act of informing me was a sufficient substitute for honoring their original commitment. At one point, the Air Canada app proudly announced that my 4 PM flight was still on time mere minutes after an Air Canada text had proclaimed it now departing at 5:30. By the time I arrived at the gate, the departure board showed 6:30. Then, miraculously, they pulled it back to 5:45, a concession that seemed more like an exercise in psychological warfare than actual scheduling. We finally took off around 6:45, making departure feel more like a hostage release than a travel itinerary.
In an attempt to salvage something from the ordeal, I shelled out for Air Canada’s "premium streaming" package so I could watch the US vs. Canada 4 Nations hockey final—a game I should have been enjoying in a lively bar, surrounded by fellow degenerates. Naturally, the streaming didn’t work and I spent the flight wondering if Air Canada’s entire business model was built on a foundation of unmet promises.
At least the flight attendants were friendly, and my vegetarian meal was surprisingly decent. By the time we touched down in Vancouver at nearly 10 PM, I was running on fumes. A quick cab ride to the hotel, a grim realization that room service was closed, and a silent nod of appreciation to the protein bars in my bag.
The tournament itself was spectacular. It’s an annual tour that consists of multiple tournaments across the globe, with each team accruing points for both the individual stops as well as the year-long tally. The ultimate tournament winner is the country with the most points after all seven tournaments have been played. This year’s circuit has seen an infusion of fresh talent due to widespread roster rebuilds, injecting a new level of parity into the competition. The Vancouver stop—number four on the schedule this year—featured a mix of men’s and women’s fixtures, plus a consolation tournament for Canada, Japan, and a combined Trinidad and Tobago side, since Canada failed to qualify for the main event. The home side dominated, though the matchups were about as fair as a footrace between a sprinter and someone wearing cement shoes.
Group costumes are a huge deal at these events.
Photo Credit: Vancouver Sevens
Given the recent US-Canada tensions—tariffs, anthem-booing at hockey games—it was no surprise that the American squad received a steady stream of jeers all weekend. I suspect most Canadians would boo a bald eagle if given the chance. Naturally, my compatriots and I reciprocated in kind, turning every Canadian fumble into an occasion for righteous schadenfreude.
Friday night’s highlight was dinner with my dear headbanging friends, Wendeanna and Geoff, who took me to The Acorn, a farm-to-table vegetarian restaurant in a hip little part of town. As a lifelong mushroom avoider—except for the more psychedelic varieties back in my misspent youth—the first few dishes tested my resolve, but the food was phenomenal. More importantly, the conversation was the kind you rarely get outside of true friendships—the kind where the walls come down and nothing is off-limits. They even gifted me a 3 Inches of Blood bumper sticker, picked up the tab, and chauffeured me back to my hotel. Friends like that are a rare breed, and I count myself lucky to have them.
The rest of the weekend was a blissful mix of rugby, comfort food, and indulgent laziness. Mornings meant Tim Horton’s runs, nights meant too much poutine, and the in-between was spent soaking up the city’s vibe. Texts from friends, photos of my dogs from my ever-reliable sitter, and late-night hotel movie marathons filled the downtime. Even the occasional street-yelling passerby outside my window couldn’t dampen the mood.
Tomorrow, I head home. Excited to see the dogs, check on my remodel, and collapse into the familiar embrace of my own bed. In a few weeks, I’ll be back on the road, but for now, I’m ready to revel in the mundane comforts of home—at least until Air Canada finds a new and innovative way to ruin my travel plans again.
Canadian delicacies