Hook Line N' Sinkers Impressive in Spring Training

But There Is Always Room For Improvement...





By Roscoe Stonewall

HALIBURTON (Haliburton Daily Press Release)
Another winter has passed, and with it so has the weight room sessions, the cardio sessions, time spent with family, and all other ingredients that go into a typical off-season. It is now time, as they say, to play ball. This season, the lights are shining bright on two teams who will make history on opening day by being the first two teams in MLB to be situated in non-metropolitan areas. The Baton Rouge Crustaceans, and the Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers.

Haliburton General Manager Colin Wallace is optimistic about the upcoming season, but, he says, his hopes are not too high. "We have a good team here in Haliburton. The area is known for its friendly atmosphere and lazy way of life, and thats how we play ball. Friendly, and lazy." After a heavy off-season which saw many trades, moves, and shuffling around, Wallace believes he has a team that will do well. "Its a great group here. There are a few alcohol issues we have to deal with, and some of our players have already had counseling, but other than that we seem to be on the right track."

"Thats our aim this year, to find that balance. Sauce and ball."

Famed psychologist Holly Imrie, known for her work with alcoholics and people afraid of extension cords, has become an official member of the Haliburton squad. She has already established herself as a powerful voice in the organization, having personally gone into Anne Cowans' locker and dumping the contents of every bottle she found. The minor victory was short lived, as later that night, the police were called to the residence of Anne Cowans on a noise complaint after her keg party got out of hand. Cowans was found in her front yard on a mechanical bull screaming "I ONLY NEED 8 SECONDS FOR THE GOLD MEDAL!" The bull was motionless. Irregardless of this, Imrie is confident her techniques will result in increased numbers from the Hook Line N' Sinkers. Wallace was the first to note that his team is the only one in the league that employs a psychologist who specializes in alcoholics, but Wallace is also first to note that more teams could use this. "Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Jack Morris, all players who struck a balance between sauce and ball. Thats our aim this year, to find that balance. Sauce and ball."

Everyone in the Hook Line N' Sinkers organization is excited about the upcoming season as well as the fans. A new team, a new stadium which seats 1,304, and 162 games of possibilities. Its a good time to be Haliburtish.


Roscoe Stonewall is a part time columnist for The End Of The Dock and a full time 5-pin bowler. He enjoys short walks on the beach and macramé. Roscoe has written for such publications as Punjab Daily, The Official Light Bulb Lovers Magazine, and Ferns for Happiness. We are greatly indebted to him for agreeing to follow the inaugural season of the Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers.

End of the Dock Hires New Reporter

And not a moment too soon...

HALIBURTON (Haliburton Daily Press Release) - The Haliburton Daily has hired a new reporter to follow the upcoming Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers during their inaugural season. Roscoe Stonewall joins the Haliburton Daily team and the staff at the Daily as well as those at the End of the Dock would like to take this opportunity to welcome Mr. Stonewall and wish him good luck on this upcoming season.

Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers Reserve Roster and Coaching Staff

OFFICIAL COACHING STAFF

Jersey No.	Name	Position
3	Kieran Wallace	Head Coach
17	Erin Kulic	Pitching Coach
69	Jenn Luckas	Bullpen Coach
21	Michelle O’Keefe	Batting Coach
29	Sindy DeBenedictis	Bench Coach
86	Brent Finley	First Base Coach
31	Marisa Reis	Third Base Coach

OFFICIAL RESERVE ROSTER

Jersey No.	Name	Position
4	Jay Leung	IF
33	Lacey Scott	IF
90	Will North	IF
30	Chris Wevers	OF
70	John O’Kelly	OF
35	Brad North	OF

Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers Announce Starting Lineup and Pitching Roster

OFFICIAL STARTING LINE UP

Order No.	Jersey No.	Name	Position
1	9	Andrew Cooper	2B
2	20	Adam Smith	SS
3	13	Anne Cowans	CF
4	43	Brian DeWagner	RF
5	24	Arvin Kim	1B
6	11	Carlos Abrantes	LF
7	1	Natalie Wallace	3B
8	16	Courtney Thorne	C
9	34	Aiden Kennedy	SP

OFFICIAL PITCHING ROSTER

Jersey No.	Name	Position
34	Aiden Kennedy	SP
8	Sue McKay	SP
21	Sarah Quigley	SP
00	Adam Finley	SP
19	Chris Kaiser	SP
76	Jim Wardle	P
14	Chantelle Tremblay	P
7	Kris (Gramps) Vargas	P
12	Kevin Phillips	P
25	Emily Wallace	P (Closer)

Player profiles will be posted as soon as they are officially completed.

Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers Unveil New LOGO...

HALIBURTON (Haliburton Daily Press Release) - The Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers officially unveiled their team uniforms and their new logo today. The management for the team held an open contest to everyone in the area to design the logo, but they went with one of their own designs in the end. A source close to GM Colin Wallace was quoted as saying "They just didn't like any of them. Basically said they were all crap, so they used the paper for kindling to a big bonfire the other night." The community showed their depreciation to the organization's decision by putting up signs asking residents of the Haliburton region to boycott the press conference, and it seemed to have worked as there were only 11 people in attendance, 4 of those being reporters. One attendee, who did not want his name released, said "I had no clue everyone was boycotting. I can't read so the signs didn't do me any good." Representatives from the Hook Line N' Sinkers organization were not available for comment.

Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers Announce Coaching Staff

HALIBURTON (Haliburton Daily Press Release) - The Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers announced their coaching staff earlier today at a press conference on the shores of Halls Lake. GM Colin Wallace was on hand to make the official announcements and members of the coaching staff were available for questions immediately after. Transcripts of these interviews will be available at a later time.

Here is the official 2007 Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers Coaching Staff.

Head Coach - Kieran Wallace
Kieran brings experience, enthusiasm, and a desire to win to the table. He also brings some of his wife's cooking to the table in the locker room, which delights players to no end. Her world famous Irish stew has been known to calm even the most 'roid ridden player in the league. Tells it like it is and can be just as harsh as he can be nice. Never minces words but can chew the fat with any player if that player needs to talk.

Pitching Coach - Erin Kulic
This multitasker can handle three kids and a husband, so she can definitely handle a pitching staff. A great knowledge of any game she decides to play and the uncanny ability to get what she wants. She has been quoted as saying "I'll enjoy sitting in the dugout and relaxing, letting Mike take care of the kids for a while. The slow pace of baseball is exactly what I need to balance me out." Our interview was cut short by her son Luke, who wanted to watch Spiderman.

Bullpen Coach - Jenn Luckas
Doesn't have a great knowledge of baseball, but the bullpen coach doesn't really need one. Just makes sure the pitchers get warmed up. While out in the bullpen she can chat with any cute guy she sees in the stands and, hopefully, she'll meet Mr. Right in Baltimore, or Kansas City. No wait, nobody meets Mr. Right in Kansas City. Perhaps Boston?

Batting Coach - Michelle O'Keefe
Has to deal with Andrew Cooper so she must know how to lay down the law, and I'm sure she employs a bat from time to time as she lets Coop know who's boss. If she doesn't, she should. A fantastic artist, her unique approach to batting (the beauty of a swing instead of the brute force) should help each player acquire new career bests in batting average this year. Either that or they'll end up making daisy chains or doing screen printing in the on deck circle.

Bench Coach - Sindy DeBenedictis
Is there a better person to keep players motivated thru the game? A fantastic outlook on life and a killer smile, this gal knows how to keep everyone's spirits up. Had dealt with troubled kids for years and the majority of baseball players fall into this category, so this should be no problem for Sindy.

First Base Coach - Brent Finley
Not much goes into being a first base coach, and seeing as how Brent would be hungover most of the time, GM Colin Wallace has placed Brent at first base. The games are usually late so the hangover shouldn't be too big a factor, and no one really pays attention to the first base coach, so if he decided to sneak a flask out with him each inning, I'm sure no one would really notice.

Third Base Coach - Marisa Reis
Don't know Marisa that well but from what I do know, she gets excited about almost everything! A third base coach needs to go from zero to 60 in less than a second, and Marisa can do this. Plus, I think she would enjoy waving her arms frantically to signal a runner to go home. The only thing is that the game would have to wait until Marisa stopped laughing.

Scouting Report for Upcoming TBL Baseball Season

Those zany folks over at The Bleacher Life have come up with yet another fun idea and a great way for me to spend at least some of my time off, and that is to draft my friends onto my own personal MLB team. Following is a list of my friends, their "skills, abilities, and disposition" (which I'm guessing means in life and not just playing baseball), and the order in which they are drafted (or not!) I'm sure only 3 or 4 of my friends actually frequent this site so I don't really have to remind them to not take this seriously, but if anyone else comes across this, the message is the same. Don't take this seriously, only 50% of it is true, I just needed something to do on a Tuesday afternoon during my two weeks off.

With that in mind The End of the Dock presents the Scouting Report for the Upcoming TBL Baseball Season

EMILY WALLACE - Wife of GM Colin Wallace and a consummate professional if there ever was one. When this lady has a job to do she does it right. A vicious team player, Emily has the all around ability to play whatever position she wants, the knowledge to make an impact in any game she plays, and the athleticism to be a regular on any Plays of the Day segment. Unfortunately she has referred to GM Colin Wallace as a dumbass on a number of occasions, so look for her to go unpicked.

ADAM SMITH - Longtime fan of the game and loves his beer... this guy is a definite player. An easy going kind of guy who can turn up the intensity when needed, although he doesn't feel the need to often. Isn't rattled by too much and makes the drive to Mississauga to see his friends so you know he has good range. A righty that can't turn around and bat left, but that shouldn't stop him from being taken high in the draft.

SUE McKAY - Varsity level athlete who can read the game with uncanny ability. Has played basketball, volleyball, and run track all at high levels. Has a history of injuries though, including her left forearm (she's a lefty) and an ankle that is still not 100%. She has been doing some off season training and her schooling in Athletic Therapy should help her manage anything that comes her way this season.

JIM WARDLE - A quality athlete who talks a good game, but backs his words up. You could play dueling banjos on his tight hammys but he's a pro, he'll take care of that problem before opening day. Has the ability to get under an opponent's skin like no other, and can frequently piss off a teammate, but at the end of the day you'll know where his loyalties lie.

CHANTELLE FINLEY - Great with her hands, but grew up playing hockey and is used to that fast paced action and not the pace of a baseball game. An impatient hitter who has walked back to the dugout on a 2-0 count claiming she was bored that the pitcher hadn't thrown anything in the strike zone yet. When the batting coach tried to explain the concept of a plate appearance to her she snapped. He is now just starting to chew his meals again. She may have temper issue, but like I said, she's got good hands.

ANDREW COOPER - Has worked with young children and autistic individuals most of his post-secondary career and has been a lifetime Leafs fan so you know he has the patience most players, Chantelle Finley included, wish they had. Hasn't traveled much so the strains of a long season on the road could be a factor in his first year in the league should he be drafted. Arguably has one of the tightest bums of any of the up and comers, which should help boost the female attendees at any home or away game, which is something MLB could use.

AIDEN KENNEDY - The highest touted pitching prospect but so was Babe Ruth, and he went on to hit 714 dingers and had a lifetime average of .342, so we'll see how Kennedy's future is decided on draft day. Has a cannon for a right arm and throws a wicked slider, although doesn't always listen to his coach and throws the slider at will. Batting style a la Rickey Henderson with the speed of a Cecil Fielder (who managed to steal a few in his time). Has been a lifetime Athletics fan which could hurt his chances of a high pick on draft day.

BRIAN DeWAGNER - Has played for the Angels until he was suspended for attending a barn party while wearing his jersey. Has never been one for the rules but gets the job done, most of the time with his pants on, but sometimes bare ass. Loves the comfort of a Greyhound, and revels in the opportunity to feel the cool grass of a stadium between his toes. Has been known to take his shoes off for an inning each game earning him the nickname the Barefoot Bum. Also has been known to stash a tall can of Sierra Nevada in the crack between the pads of the outfield wall, which most managers frown on, but he maintains he plays better with a "sunset buzz." GM's may be wary to draft him after this scouting report comes out, but there has been word that GM Colin Wallace of the Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers employed the same tactics in his day, so look for this Barefoot Bum to be sporting the Haliburton colours at the end of the day.

ADAM FINLEY - He has been cross training like mad this off season playing indoor hockey and ultimate frisbee, which has gotten him in good shape. A very focused player who gets the job done and doesn't waver, Adam is a great addition to any team. Spent most of his cross training playing defense, which could help him go high in the draft for any team looking to fill a gap in their defensive setup. The kid has a great eye at the plate and spends his time training for this by taking pictures, which he posts on his site for GMs and scouts to see.

ANNE COWANS - Great at PR and talking to the media, and she's not hard to look at either. Very athletic individual who can adapt to any situation and fit in with anyone that you'd think they have been best friends for life. Had a great career as a softball pitcher but loved the sauce so much she drank herself out of the game. Trying to make a comeback but has been quoted as saying "I love the game. I love everything about the game so much that I had to make a decision. It was either the game or the sauce. I chose the game." (It should be noted that Ms. Cowans was very protective of her water bottle and seemed to slur her words more towards the end of the interview.)

CARLOS ABRANTES - Boyfriend of the sister of GM Colin Wallace, so look for him to be part of the Haliburton family, lest Mr. Wallace wants to not be a part of his family at day's end. Great soccer player with good stamina and the ability to knock the tar out of someone in one shot. It is this quality that has catcher's trembling when Carlos is heading full steam towards home. Proud recipient of the Jose Canseco Highlight of the Year Award in '99, when Carlos, while a fellow teammate was being intentionally walked, broke for home after the catcher, Clayton McVolvo, had caught ball three. They collided at home in a horrific meeting of skulls and Clayton was left motionless for 3 months. One player described the incident as such: "The shattering of Clayton's cranium was so loud that 14 fans in the upper deck threw up. Personally, a bone in my right hand and 3 of my ribs broke because I was so close to the sound of the collision." Look for Carlos to go top 3 as catchers have already been pressuring their GMs to pick him or else they walk.

JOHN O'KELLY - A crazy Irishman who can dance up a mean storm. He'll be a hit on the road with the ladies. Has no problem hitting on ladies on the road too. Has had UFC training so look for him to hit some of his opponents if need be. Flew all the way from Ireland to Canada for a friend's wedding so you know his loyalties will be strong for whatever team he plays for. Can take a lot of pain and has the scars to prove it

KEVIN PHILLIPS - Another soccer player with the ability to play other sports too. This guy's energy levels are never in doubt, and his knack of handling a high workload is proven making him a quality pick. Loves to take his clothes off after a few drinks which could put him in trouble with the law early on in the season, but those who know GM Colin Wallace and his history will be expecting him to pick KP on draft day. Although us scouts have been wrong before.

COURTNEY THORNE - A linguistics professional who can rape you physically AND verbally, Courtney is a force to be reckoned with. She is also a very competitive individual who does not take losing lightly, making it very frustrating for her opponents to win back to back games against her pitchers. The verbal rapage she doles out doesn't hurt either.

STEPHEN HUNT - Great kid who has World Championship and Olympic Gold Medals slung around his sharp, bony shoulders. Stephen has a great arm but has been known to be a clutz on the bases, as his shoes sometimes end up on the wrong feet. A solid pick for any club but as a native from Sweden he will have trouble with the English language.

ARVIN KIM - The only power hitter with a bigger soft spot in his heart than on his 42" bat. Some scouts might say that this could hurt Arvin in key at bats, but those are the scouts that haven't seen Arvin in the gym. He's a ferocious f*&!(@ with arms the size of sequoias and he knows how to use them. Great patience and has been known to squeeze water from a baseball at a Diamondbacks game.

CHRIS WEVERS - The only thing slower than Wevers speaking is the opposing pitcher's ability to figure him out at the plate. A football man trying to make his name as a baseball player such as the great Bo Jackson and the not so great Deion Sanders.

NATALIE WALLACE - Cousin of GM Colin Wallace, and triple jumper extraordinaire. Natalie's knowledge of nutrition should keep her healthy for the entire season, and her streak of 1,637 game played is 3rd all time. She strikes out frequently and busts a gut laughing about it which is why she has not been a very consistent hitter, but her prowess in the field in incomparable.

CHRIS KAISER - Has seen his career go in a slow nose dive in recent years with the excess drinking and smoking, but has vowed to turn it around and give fame and glory one more shot.

JAY LEUNG - This Chinese sensation has been tearing up every league he's been in, and has been doing it wearing khaki's. Each league has tried to force him to wear regulation pants, even threatening to suspend him, but attendance drops when he's not playing so its just not an option.

SARAH QUIGLEY - A smart cookie who can give you the verbal rapage just as good as Thorne, and who loves to party just as much too. Has been fined millions over the years as she is constantly late for games and practices because she takes about 4 hours to get ready for a game.

KIERAN WALLACE - GM Colin Wallace will have a tough time this draft day as he has a few family members participating in the draft. Makes for awkward holidays when you get offered the smallest chicken wing and a Coors Light for your dinner. Kieran has a great knowledge of the game, having spent time with national level athletes and playing hurling (national sport of Ireland) at an elite level. Having spent the last few years on the golf course instead of the diamond Kieran may be the man to manage the Haliburton Hook Line N' Sinkers to their first winning season in 18 years.

I AM the Philadelphia Phillies.

Recently, a good friend had a post on his blog in which he compared his friends to MLB teams. Needless to say, I am now the proud owner of an official 59FIFTY Philadelphia Phillies chapeau, and damn if it doesn't fit so good. SO good.

The only people I know that have a Phillies lid are those that live in the city of brotherly love. Well, add one more to that list. I've been sporting the colours since Saturday and I, honestly, have never been prouder of a cap than this one. Can you blame me? The hat is a tribute not to the current Phillies team, but to the Phillies of past years. Players such as Lenny Dykstra, John Kruk, Darren Dalton, and the ubergreat Mike Schmidt. I put on the cap and I can almost feel the dirt from third base under my cleats and the tickle of tiny whiskers under my nose a la Schmidt.

While I was searching for a Phillies hat (they are harder to come by than you would think) I heard one of the best quotes that I have probably ever heard in my 28 plus years. Honestly, the 6 words I heard resonated so hard that it made me miss the person described in the statement so much that it almost hurt. Those six words were "Cooper IS the '93 Blue Jays." The words came just after I had explained to my friend why I had decided to bust my ass and try to find a Phillies hat (a notion he probably thought was ludicrous but, as good friends do, supported me throughout my endeavor).

EVERYBODY needs a Cooper. Just being around him makes people feel good. Kinda like being a fan of the '93 Jays when a ticket to a game wasn't just an excuse to eat an overpriced hot dog, it was a chance to be a part of something amazing. Kinda like seeing a Paul Molitor at bat, or an amazing play by Robbie Alomar, it can't be compared to anything. Neither can Coop.

I thank my lucky stars for Coop. I thank my lucky stars for all my friends.

Its a good life.

Sue McKay is a thief...

But not really...


While writing an exam the other day I felt a sneeze coming on. I deformed my face as one does during the initial stages of a sneeze, and braced myself. Like I said, I was writing an exam, so I attempted to keep my sneeze as quiet as possible so as not to completely disturb my classmates. I reared my head back slightly, and it snapped forward as the contents of my lungs (should have) expunged itself. Something strange happened though and, as far as I can remember and I think one would have a good memory of this, my sneeze actually turned into a small cough at the last second. I sat there with, I'm sure, a puzzled look on my face. Had anyone been looking at me, I'm sure it would've been a strange thing to see. Screwed up face, rearing back of cranium, violent snap forward, small cough. I had lost my sneeze. I looked on the ground (actually did that) and it wasn't there. It wasn't on my desk. Dammit! Where was my damn sneeze. The next 27 hours passed and the damn thing didn't turn up. It felt kinda like I had just lost my debit card in the house, and I KNEW it was in the house, but no matter how hard I looked I couldn't come across it.

A couple friends came over the next day and as we were sitting around chatting my friend, Sue, suddenly, out of complete no where, sneezed! She immediately seemed surprised as there was no warning of a sneeze for her. She was laughing and then BOOM!! SNEEZE!!! I immediately looked up at her, as I recognized the complete and utter shock on her face, knowing full well that sneeze was not expected! "YOU FOUND MY SNEEZE! THERE IT IS!!" Odd thing to hear after you sneeze as Bless You is probably the more appropriate response, but once I explained it I felt much better. I had found my sneeze. It was in Sue! That was the last place I would've thought to look. Well... maybe not the last place. Perhaps in someone I've never met before, someone like the Pope, yeah, that would've been the last place. Anyways, I feel good now. Honestly, as soon as I recognized that look on her face it might as well have been me that sneezed. I even wiped my nose.

MORAL: Lose your sneeze? Check your friends. They can be thieves too.

Insert Title Here...

I have been having a hard time lately. As I try to begin writing I find that the words I am looking for are not coming as easily as I would want them to, which makes me more frustrated, which in turn delays the words further. Ever driven on the 401 or Gardiner during rush hour? Thats how my head is functioning right now, if you can even call that functioning. I'm stuck in that lane that never seems to be moving as fast as the others, and when it does start moving some jackass in a Jag cuts in front of me and my brakes are slammed on. Giving him the finger just gives me a small moment of relief, but then its right back to where I started.

I can't pinpoint when it started, but it was around the start of January-ish, around the time 2nd semester started. Also, I can't pinpoint where this all-around mental block came from. I'm sure it was due to a number of factors such as a heavy school load, too many years of post-secondary education building up, long days, a flood in the apartment causing us to move a couple weeks later, the move itself, financial stuff, a serious lack of exercise and even the time to do it (I couldn't do it most days even if I wanted to, which I do), and other everyday life stuff. But thats just it. Its just regular life stuff. We all get busy, tired, flustered with financial burdens and we all face difficult periods whether they are spontaneous (I'll use the example of a flood) or not. So why is all this stuff affecting me so much? Why has it been dragging me down so much? Its hard to describe the mental impact this has had on me because everyone is just so different. Physically it would resemble climbing, getting ready to shoot up at a crux, and trying to hold on to that overhang for just one more second so you can finally find a good spot for your right foot, or your left hand, just so you can top out and name the damn bastard, but gravity just won't let you. The route never becomes a "future problem thats no longer in the future" (only hippies can say stuff like that and get away with it... Josh Lowell fans would know what I'm talking about).

You know what, I sound like an ass. This paragraph should precede what I just wrote but I just thought of this stuff now, so this is where it goes. There are definite things in my life which give me tons of inspiration and motivation, even clarity. My BEAUTIFUL AMAZING wife Emily. The love I have for that woman is beyond anything my literary prowess could describe... I'm seriously not that good, not at all. Just know that she keeps me going. I love her so much it scares me sometimes. Then there is Ollie. As I write that fat cat's name I smile and get one of many uberfantastic mental images of that guy. He makes me want to come home and he makes this house a home. Oh, and my family is amazing. My parents are the two most amazing people I've ever had the pleasure to be in the company of and, no bragging here, just the truth, I've traveled enough to be in the company of many people, good and bad. They win. Hands down. So I do have a lot of amazing things in my life.

But I feel like I'm missing something. There is an internal gap that feels like its starting to push everything further and further apart, to the point where I can't seem to find the thought I'm looking for, or it takes me too long for my liking.

I realized what it was tonight. I have no clue where it came from but I'm hoping its a turn around point. I don't really have a passion for anything right now. I mean, Athletic Therapy is definitely a passion of mine, but when it is accompanied by assignments and ridiculous courses like any one of the 6 psychology courses I have taken in my 3 years at Sheridan it becomes a chore. Those courses are such a waste of time that I don't want to try anymore, honestly, I really couldn't give a rats ass, or the ass of any other rodent for that matter, about those courses. I can do well in them if I want. I can do it but why? Honestly. Why? Tangent, sorry. Where was I? Passion! Thats it. I need it back. I'm craving it. It used to be running, and I think I need to get back to that now. Just plain exercise and working out and nearly killing myself in workouts. I love it! I thrive on that, its probably the best feeling you could have, or at the very least, the best feeling I could have. This summer is going to be a summer of climbing. My schedule will definitely fit it. I'll make my schedule fit it. One of the great things about having a car is that it can take you places when you want it to. Eddie will be my savior this summer.

I feel I have more to write, but I'll end this post here. Its a 'to be continued' kind of post I guess. Here's to hoping the summer comes quickly. What does the Weather Network say about this weekend?

Who Were The Four Asschunkers?

Recently... Mia Hamm was voted into the the U.S. National Soccer Hall of Fame along with fellow player Julie Foudy and builder Alan Rothenberg. As a prelude to my inevitable ramblings and rages which will make me seem like the biggest soccer fan this beautiful country could be blessed with, I'll admit that I was unaware of the existence of the Soccer Hall of Fame. I mean, I assumed there was one, and by assumed I meant that I never gave it a blade of thought, I just wasn't really surprised to hear that there was one. So hopefully you don't dwell heavily on that, I admitted it, lets all just be grown ups and move past that and onto the matter at hand.

Mia Hamm is no stranger to records, her 158 career international goals is the highest total by any female to ever play the game, and so it came as no shock to this sports "enthusiast" (why did I put the quotations over enthusiast? Not sure but I'll just leave 'em there) that she was inducted into the Hall on February 27th, 2007 with a record number of votes, 137 out of 141 possible votes, an unprecedented 97.16% (beating the previous record of 95.77%). My question is simply this. Who in hell were the four asschunkers that didn't vote for her?!? Are you serious? You sit on the board which elects Hall of Fame members for the sport of soccer in the United States, and you do not have enough sport knowledge, patriotism, or awareness of life itself to vote this woman in unanimously? I realize patriotism might be a stretch, but Ms. Hamm is, arguably (and its a damn good argument with few water leaks, and those leaks may only be there because the argument is too damn heavy for whatever the hell holds arguments. The argument bucket?)... where was I? Oh yeah. She is, arguably (see previous sentence), the best female soccer player to have ever played the game. I would even say she is one of the best, sex organs aside, to have ever played the game in the history of the sport. 158 goalies and 158 twine nets stressed by the immaculate strength of her shot can't be wrong. Immaculate? Thats right. I went there.

137 out of 141. Lets take a look at a few more of her credentials. We have discussed the 158 career international goals; there is the 1991 and 1999 World Cup victories; 1996 and 2004 Olympic Gold Medals; at 15, she was the youngest person (notice this doesn't specify just female) to ever be a member of the U.S. National Team (where she ended up playing 17 years); at age 19 she was the youngest player to win a World Cup; 4-time NCAA Champion (only 4 years of eligibility right? Right.); led the nation in scoring in '90, '92, and '93; graduated with an all-time record for most conference goals (103), assists (72), and points (278). There's more, but lets just stop there. The argument reservoir (the bucket just wasn't big enough) is already reaching critical levels.

137 out of 141. Mia Hamm accomplishes all that while starting her very own foundation (Mia Hamm Foundation) which raises funds for bone marrow research.

137 out of 141. I'm going to go ahead and tell myself to believe that the 4 muffgobblers in question were told not to vote for Mia, and apply some sort of reasoning to it (although its absurd that she didn't get 100%, as previously stated, so I can't guarantee the reasons will be any less absurd). It is possible that they were told to do so, for the simple fact that the perpetual bar could, in the future, always be raised, or so the universe wouldn't implode on itself or something... something to put my mind at ease dammit.

137 out of 141. That statistic is going to stick in my head for a while now. Thanks a lot you short-n'-curly-hair-gaggers. You are fully and solely responsible for any and all insane rants and rages I go on over the course of the next 24-48 hours and whatever deaths they may cause. Think about THAT. Sleep well, and with one eye open. Or I'll Mel Gibson your ass (think Braveheart... the scene with the mace and the horse.) There are 4 of you that need to sleep lightly. There were also 4 "lords" in Braveheart that had their asses handed to them if my memory serves me correctly. I'm not saying coincidence but...

Ok Universe,.. You Win This Round.

An Explanation is Needed on This One...

I've come to the realization that the only reason they make statues to pay tribute to a great person is that the honoree probably had to put up with a lot of shit in their time, and whoever erected the statue needed something there to keep the birds busy, while tourists and locals could worry about something other than having to pack an extra hat for the day. They got shat on in life but still persevered, so its a safe bet they're going to persevere now. The fact that they're dead and unable to complain about the smell is irrelevant, isn't it?

More and more recently I have noticed that nice guys, and girls, finish last more often than they finish first. And even if its not a last place finish, they have definitely hit the wall and are trotting embarrassingly towards the finish line, with maintaining a shred of dignity their only motivation. More often than not they'll still have a smile on their face, or at the very least they won't be frowning.

"Well Colin, thats just life" some might say, to which I reply "ERRONEOUS!" And it really is.

These are the people that keep the world running smoothly, the type of person who will see the silver lining on the dark cloud, the type of person who tries to see the good and the bad in, under, around, and on everything, the bird shit as well as the statue. I cannot comprehend that these people sometimes end up being that statue.

Recently, the store that I work in, owned by a member of the "nice guy team", if not the damn captain, was closed for a good 5 weeks due to a fire that was started in another store two floors above. This guy-of-all-guys busted his ass for those 5 weeks to get the store back open. While I'm sure part of the reason he worked tirelessly to get the store back up and running was to generate the income he was so sorely lacking, thanks to the birds upstairs, I also believe that he wanted to get the store back on its feet so as to provide his customers with the shoes they need and his employees (students) the money they practically salivate for.

Greg is the type of person that you never, ever, want to disappoint, ever. Not just for the completely unselfish reason that you wouldn't want to disappoint HIM, but also for the narcissistic, egocentric reason that you wouldn't want to let YOURSELF down. I'm guessing it would feel like growing up in Boston in the 70's, but end up playing for the Lakers in the 80's. You let down people around you, die hard Celtics fans, but dammit all if you didn't let down yourself by donning the purple and gold. If there were a million more "Gregs" in the world, well there would be a million less assholes.

As I walked down the street and around the corner while on my way to work today I stopped, speechless, outside the store's front window. All the stock was gone, and a sign on the window read, simply, "Unfortunately we have had another fire." Apparently the idiot who owned the building didn't have his electrical sources fixed correctly since the last fire, and on Friday night one of the fuse boxes actually exploded, shooting a ball of flame up a stairwell and knocking out power to the entire block. This leaves Greg with another couple weeks of paperwork and working out an empty shell of a store trying to get special orders and unique requests filled for customers, all the while battling the strong, piercing stench of smoke which the fire ungraciously left in the store.

Yet another example of how life can teach you, no matter who YOU are, to never, ever, ever take anything for granted.

He'll pull through, I'm 97% sure that he will. As for the remaining 3%, well lets just say that I'm glad I'm a friend, and the chances of me staring down the business end of an AR-15, autoloading, centrefire rifle with his twitchy finger on the trigger are slim. But still, if I catch wind that he's on any kind of a warpath, I'll be the first to sign up for a 3 week fishing trip with George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg, perfect storm be damned.

The sea can be cruel, but I'd rather take my chances with her. As complex as women can be, there's something so simple about a man with a gun and a reason that is chilling, viciously chilling.

Seaman Colin reporting for duty. Where do I sign?

Kate Hudson Knows What I'm Talking About...

I'll be honest, I didn't expect to read what I did.

I had mixed feelings as I read each paragraph, and there were quite a few to read. The past two weeks have been a quick sprint down memory lane thanks to Facebook, a couple beers with Jenny M., and Tellie's recollection of Piccadilly Porch. I remember standing on that porch the day I moved out and thinking that I wasn't just stepping off the porch for the final time, I was taking my first steps in the direction of uncertainty. In that house, for that one whole year, everything had made sense. The good (jam sessions), the bad (jam sessions after too many drinks), and the ugly (Jim joining in on our jam sessions). It had been comfortable there, and before I could take those last two steps down off the porch and onto a sidewalk that would lead me to another stage of my existence, I had to realize that I was, for the time being, stepping outside of my comfort zone, which, I might add, had the thermostat set at 71 and a healthy portion of a case of beer still cold in the fridge. The Bleacher Life post was no different. An individual very comfortable in being himself stepped outside of that warm, safe, and well-stocked environment to convey that message, and that floored me.

I have to be completely honest and say that during the ceremony I didn't notice anyone being absent because, quite simply, I didn't notice anyone else except Emily and our reverend, John Lescard. I think that was his name. I had never met him before the rehearsal day, a concept that has just recently started to bother me. Here is a guy that books 4 weddings to perform in one day. He drives in, stands around and makes small talk with the groom so as to calm his nerves, or it could be out of complete boredom that he initiates conversation. He then waits for the bride to walk down the aisle, starts talking, and 17 minutes later he's out the door and off to the next wedding, driving with the top of his convertible down, at peace with the fact that he, if you extrapolate his earnings in 17 minutes, makes a shade over $700 an hour. Anyways, I'm on a tangent and will continue that thought in my next post. The point is, Em and John were the only two people I noticed during the time I was walking up the aisle with my mom, to the time when Em and I turned to face everyone, Reverend Guy-Off-The-Street announcing we were now officially married. I had two uncles, an aunt, and a cousin who got lost, missed the entire ceremony, ended up in Oakville and had a small chunk of the guests on my side a shade over "mildly concerned". If I was so oblivious to anything else other than the wedding ceremony that I didn't notice family missing, I definitely wasn't going to notice anyone else missing. So I hope he doesn't take that as an insult.

It was only when Emily turned to me, after we were back inside and ready to sit down to dinner and speeches, and brought to my attention "Brian didn't make it to the ceremony." We invited 140 people to our wedding and to the reception, and every person that confirmed that they were coming showed up, which is, so I've been told, almost unheard of. So the news that one person didn't show for the ceremony didn't affect me for long, I couldn't allow it to. Moments after Em had said this I was laughing at some joke, or listening intently to Kelly (our planner), with Emily's news long gone from my thoughts. Again, no insult meant, thats just how it has to be on that day. I thoroughly enjoyed my wedding day, but I definitely could've used a couple more hours in there in order to really, fully, and truly appreciate the day and how amazing Emily looked in her dress. It was over in a blur. I told myself before the day arrived that whatever happens, I was to relax and let things happen, to not get worked up about anything.

That split second, however, after Emily brought that to my attention, I felt my insides twinge. Its tough for me to describe... placing words in aesthetically pleasing arrangements is not my forte. I'm guessing its how each and every 6 foot plus Orangeman with size 15 feet felt today after learning an NCAA tournament would be played without the influence of a Syracuse presence. Perhaps it is akin to the feeling Phil Mickelson got each time he blew up on the back nine of many Majors (until he finally stopped the bleeding and cauterized his career with a Major victory). I will even go so far as to say that Kate Hudson would understand the feeling after someone else walked home with a shiny bald guy and a ripped envelope, with Kate's performance in "Almost Famous" judged NOT to be the best performance by a leading actress that year. If you ask me, and I'll display my common arrogant prickedness and assume you should ask me, it was the single most greatest performance of any actor I've seen. Throw Drew Barrymore or Scarlett Johannsen in there and the entire movie changes, and not for the better. I'll bet you most people don't even know who won that year, but they definitely know that Kate Hudson lost. Another tangent, I know. Anyhow, Kate Hudson, Phil Mickelson, and the entire Syracuse Orangemen 2006-2007 basketball team could possibly describe it better, so ask them.

After you've asked them and they've explained it, you probably wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, and neither do I. What happened, well, it simply just happened. There is no going back to change it. A hard step was taken with that post, and I'll put my arrogant prickedness suit back on, 'cause it just fits so well, and assume that if I were to shrug off the apology and the years of friendship I would invoke the same feeling in the same person who was big enough to put those thoughts into words. I can't do that. I don't want to do that.

Apology accepted. Now, I don't want to hear another word about it. We paid good money for a photographer, well actually we didn't but someone else did, but the point is, good money was paid for a photographer and the reason he was there was to capture the day in as many pictures as he could take. So trust me when I say this, after going over the pictures and talking to Uncle Jack, it'll be like he was there. Hell, we'll even open up a laptop and photoshop him into a couple pictures to make it "official". Perhaps we'll replace the reverend's face with his, trading someone who I could've cared less whether he was there or not, with someone who I truly wanted to have there.

I'm finished school in a month. Something needs to be set up for late April.

Shamone!

A good friend of mine regularly sends me texts which mean absolutely nothing but, more often than not, leave me either with a smile on my face or an embarrassed look because I've just laughed out loud in a crowded store. I try to return the favour when I can and hope he experiences the same pick-me-up to his day as I do, although as a true friend I hope there are more embarrassing moments.

This morning I received a text and opened it... my usual interest in its contents aroused. There it was... the first word in the text.... Shamone. To get a full appreciation for this word I believe telling the story of its inception is appropriate, if not a necessity.

I recommend taking a cross country trip on a Greyhound once. Thats it... just once. As in, one way. Fly home. I guarantee you will see things you always wanted to and some things you wish you never had. A certain butch looking transvestite and his very diminutive, very senior cowboy escort come to mind. That, however, is a campfire story.

There were two of us and we wanted to travel to California and do some serious bouldering, and Bishop, being the bouldering mecca of the US, was the destination. Our usual day consisted of waking up at 6am, it was just too hot to sleep any later than that, and pack our gear for a good solid morning of climbing. We were usually on Highway 395 by 6:30am with a pack filled with 5 or 6 bottles of water; a crashpad (that doubled as a sail on windy days); and a first aid kit. It was approximately a 3 mile hike up into the desert to our climbing spot. After about 4 or 5 hours of ripping the skin off our fingers, sitting naked on rocks, and dodging rattlesnakes, it was then time to head back to the camp and get showered up before grabbing a well deserved bite to eat. From the campground to the edge of town was about a mile hike down Highway 6. One particular day I was really really really hungry. Like the wolf. I really wanted to get moving but Bri seemed content to relax. I don't blame him... we'd been climbing for a few straight days now and killing ourselves doing it. Then it happened. I don't know where it came from or what made me combine the words "come" and "on" in the way that I did, but SHAMONE was the command that Bri got. I'm not sure why his reaction was as such, but I distinctly remember him losing it. Laughing that is. It was the word of the trip and, if my memory serves me correctly, that camp season too!

I love that word. Its one of the things I'm proud of. Seriously. Is that weird? I don't think so... it is what it is.

Here's to a great word.... SHAMONE!

I Need a Beer.

I really do. So I guess I'll get one.

One More Strand of Gristle Goes Pop... and Voila! You're a Pedestrian.

Well, nothing popped... this time. But an old injury came back into the mix when I tried to go snowboarding a week ago. Frustrating doesn't describe it, seeing as how I now have to sell all my snowboarding stuff.

I had a chronic condition due to overtraining about 7 or 8 years ago called compartment syndrome. It basically involves a buildup of pressure in one of the bodies muscle compartments. In my case it was the lateral compartment of the lower leg, and I had the surgery to correct it for good. Or so I thought.

Last year while snowboarding (and even a little bit while climbing) I experienced the symptoms but not to the degree that I did before the surgery. Basically, the symptoms involve intense pain on the lateral side of my leg just above my ankle; a small herniation which you can see and push on; red, shiny skin; and my feet go numb. Fun stuff.

Last week I tried snowboarding but the pressure of the boots on my feet, especially my right foot which is permanently attached to my board, brought back the original symptoms. I couldn't even do one run. Had to slide down most of the hill on my ass while holding my board. By the time I got back to the car my feet were completely numb.

Connective tissue. Thats what gets us all in the end. But I'll be damned if it gets me now.

Hell, I've strained muscles, sprained ligaments, broken bones, had surgery just to be able to run, but nothing would ever deter me from doing the things I love. If you wanna focus on specifics, then yes, you could argue that these recent events will keep me from snowboarding for the rest of my life, unless I go under the knife again. You know what? I've been sliced open just so I could go for a run again. Oh, and the condition was so bad originally, that I couldn't walk up a hill or walk in snow without being in agony, but that is beside the point. I did it all for that feeling you get when you're zipping along a trail during the summer or an empty sidewalk at night, the feeling you get after an 18 miler... when the rest of the day is spent bumping into random items (basically being Tellified) because you can't control small movements, the feeling you get after a workout where you have figuratively and literally kicked the shit out of yourself.

So far it has only affected my snowboarding. I'll admit... its hard when your head and your heart are into an activity, and your body, maddeningly out of your control (although it should be in your control... there's the next evolution), says no. If it continues and affects other activities like climbing or, God forbid, running... well... I'll be doing a lot of research on the success rates of second procedures. Here's hoping it doesn't come to that.

I Could Never Be The President of the USA.

Trust me. Its true. I wouldn't do a good job. Qualities a President must have include the ability to maintain a calm demeanor and exude confidence, no matter what major event is happening.

Lets take a show like "24", where the President is faced with a constant crisis. He (so far its always been a guy... so no ripping me apart for being sexist) must not let any situation affect his judgment at all. I can't do that. Today started off with a bit of a sleep in, and then to the gym (on my schedule) to have a workout with KP. My body didn't feel right... my arms would not coordinate with my legs or any other part of my body. It was annoying. All in all it was a decent workout... between easy and medium but definitely closer to medium. But the fact that I wasn't "on" bugged me. I also found out that a good chunk of my reading week in going to be spent in the dirty taint of Ontario... Windsor. It was then I realized this was not going to be my day. So I get home and try to put some music on my new phone to use it as an mp3 player and my phone wouldn't play the music I put on it. This upset me. Minor eh? Then, my mailbox key wouldn't work. This pissed me off too... along with the idiot who lives across the street from the mailbox. My question "Do you know if there is another mailbox in the complex?" His reply... "Call Daniel's as they come around in the afternoon to fix things." I'm sure he thought I was screwing around with the mailboxes, but after my explanation fell on deaf ears I told him to shove it and got in my car. Now I was really mad. Two episodes of 24 didn't help at all. They didn't worsen my mood, but they didn't have their usual therapeutic effects. ARRR!

I drove to my usual evening locale in a foul mood. If someone wasn't going as fast as I thought they should be on the highway, I cursed them. When I got to said place, I saw someone I didn't want to see at all. This person's voice annoyed me to no end.

February 26th, 2007. I'll remember that. If I ever get the chance to relive a day I have to remember NOT to say that date. August 12th, 2006. There's a good day. NOT February 26th, 2007.

I definitely could not have addressed any size nation today, let alone one the size of the US. I couldn't have addressed Vatican City and its population of 920. (isn't that a crazy stat... a country with a population of 920... Google it... its true). Hats off to the President.

The day is over, which is nice. A vanilla vodka and coke helps too.

The Buddy.

Yes, he is the Buddy. The cutest kitten I have ever seen and the best shit disturber around (I hear the common phrase of "OLLIE!! NO!!" from my wife in another room all the time). We were on our way back from the cottage almost two years ago and we had to take a detour to pick up my birthday present from Emily. We had to get it in Orillia. I was confused to say the least. So we get off the 400 in Orillia and proceed to go thru Orillia and into the boonies. We turn down a dirt road and end up on a farm that had recently had a fire. For a split second I thought we had just bought a farm. For the record, there was no way I was getting up at 4am to milk cows. That wasn't happening. The lady who owned the farm made a phone call and said "They're here. We're coming over." I was worried. We walk across the road into a barn, and noticed the kittens right away! SWEET! I was getting a cat. This was going to be the very first pet that I owned. For the record I don't consider him a pet anymore... he's just the Buddy. Of the three kittens that were there he was the coolest. He let me pick him up and just looked up at me like ... "Hey, whats up? Those other two are nuts but I'm cool." It was the obvious choice. When we first took him home he ate some McDonald's in the car! I took the day off work that Monday as I was scared he'd get into something he shouldn't in the house! He was 2.2 pounds. Exactly 1 kilogram.
Now look at him. 18 pounds of cute, snugglyness. The Purr-Button, the Buddy, Regal McKingsley, Fatty McLipid, Boldy McTakeriskerson, Styles, Punky Brewster, Punkies, and Ollie are just a few of his names. He has the potential to become the world's first schizophrenic cat and Em and I take full responsibility for that. Honestly... after looking at those two pics... how can you not love him to death? We do! And as much as Chuki tries to let us think he doesn't.... he does too!

Communication.

There is a problem with communcation. People have lost the meaning of the word. Two examples spring to mind.

#1 - we were supposed to meet with a VP of a large company to discuss "issues" we had with her company. She got snowed in and sent us an email but did not call. In her email she said she was going to call. She did not. Poor communication.

#2 - I was supposed to go to the Post Office to pick up the keys to my new mailbox in the complex I live in. I got there and was told that I needed something with my name AND new address on it. Here is the conundrum (yes I just used that word)... everything with that address is being MAILED to me. I cannot get at it since I do not have the key. I had to bring my lease. Who the hell would've known that?

Anyways... communication. Its a lost art. People believe that email and MSN's suffice. They don't. You don't have to speak to someone for very long on the phone... a minute is good... but honestly... are people afraid to talk to one another? I'm venting. I know. But hey, its my blog.

I love my new house.

Yes, I have a house. I don't own it per say, but its still amazing. The last apartment building we lived in ended up being a dive. It was the nicest apartment I've seen in a long time... hardwood floors, a fireplace, 2 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, den, huge living room area. The problem with it was that nothing was ever done. No maintenance of any kind. From the simplest stuff like having our name on the buzzer list (11 months and you can't print off a new list?) to huge problems like a water main bursting and spilling 20,000 gallons of water into the building. Luckily Em was home and my sister and Carlos showed up to help out and kept the damage to our belongings to a minimum. To be honest, I don't believe anything of ours was damaged. Lucky, I know. We went searching for a new place right away and ended up living amidst boxes, missing drywall, missing floors, and a cat that thought it would be fun to hide in boxes that were being packed, only to have himself sealed shut in one before we heard the meowing. He was playing hide and seek, and he won. But now the three of us are living in a townhouse and it is amazingly better. Amazingly... its a word. From my desk in the office I can look out the window and see our friend's house. Its scary because Adam likes beer as much as I do, and the Beer Store/Boston Pizza combo is dangerously close. It'll be good to be close to Tellie again for random cokeonversations. Yes... I meant to write that. She knows what it means.

All in all, I'm finally relaxed. And it feels good.