Sept 29, 2009

Because various cars are in various shops, I took the bus to the GO train today. I used to do this every day but as the kids got older and activities increased, it became completely impractical. Efforts on my part to have Oakville Transit dedicate a bus route to my person use fell on deaf ears (the Glen Abbey Special runs from the GO Station to Joshua Creek Arenas, waits 90 minutes then goes to Monastery Drive, stops for 10 minutes, then goes to Glen Abbey Rec Centre, waits for 90 minutes and then goes to the beer store, then back to Monastery) and we became a two-car family.

Anyway, the bus was late and the train was on time which meant I had to do a Ben Johnson across the GO property to catch the train, which at my advanced age and state of disrepair is something I'd really rather avoid next time.

I really hate pushing aside the old ladies too, but she was in the way, leaning on the walker and blocking the route. I mean, what else would you do, right?

- - -

The Leafs are up in Muskoka country, lounging around a luxury resort, hoping the rain will stop so they can play golf and paintball and bond as a team.

Parson Burke gave the team a sermon on performance and expectation and while he stopped short of encouraging Leaf Nation to stake out a spot on the parade route, he did say this year's team should be in the playoffs. This is noted in all media coverage today but really, what else was he going to say? Imagine the story if he said the team was going to miss the playoffs, but please don't forget to spend $1000 to take a family of four to the ACC to watch the crew in blue (see the weekend posting for more on this part.)

I agree that this year's team is a better one. But there is a major question mark, and that is goaltending. The Leafs will be good enough to make the playoffs if their goaltending is better than NHL average. The goalies will have to steal some games. If they don't, we get to watch from the outside again. This is not the Detroit Red Wings, who have done remarkable things with able, but ordinary, goaltending aided by a Hall of Fame crew of skaters.

By the time the next NHL playoff tournament begins, it will have been six (6) years since Toronto hosted a playoff game, which is an abomination in the world's most important hockey market. My son Chris, now in minor bantam, was a novice wearing pajamas with feet in them when the Leafs last went in the playoffs. Pad, who has played rep so long he feels like a grey beard, was still in house league then.

It's been a long time. Expectations are high.

Enough with the talk. Win some games.

Read more here.

- - -

Two weeks ago there was virtually nothing on TV to watch other than sports and one or two HBO offerings.

The fall season is upon us and we may need to lengthen the day to catch up.

Our household's must-PVR selections (so far): Entourage, Weeds, Dexter, Californication, House and Grey's Anatomy.

That's less than four and half hours of weekly viewing, but if you spend more than half your nights in a rink, it creates challenges in keeping up. We would add Mad Men to the list if we could, except the show has no Canadian carrier and Cogeco doesn't offer the American network that presents it, AMC.

Anyway, we're coping. The new season of Entourage is terrific.

If there are new shows out there worth watching, I'd appreciate a head's up from the readership. FWIW, we tried watching Glee, but Laura pulled the plug about 20 minutes in and we never went back.

Other suggestions welcome.

- - -

The week starts accelerating tonight -- Pad is back on the ice, with another two-hour practice tomorrow night.

Chris has a hitting clinic tomorrow night and a practice Friday and a game Saturday. The hitting clinic is a requisite step in learning how to safely receive and administer a check on the ice.

Pad's team debuts on Saturday afternoon just before Chris plays, and the Timbits are on early Saturday and Sunday. I'll be around for much of that, dashing from one rink to another so as not to miss my own boys in action.

There are phone calls to be made tonight to Timbit parents as schedules lock into place and the season starts to take on a familiar pace.

And all of you are doing your versions of the same thing. That's how the system works; everyone pulls on the rope and the whole machine lurches into gear..

And so with all of that, I'm bailing out on this brief Tuesday update.

Later.

Sept 28, 2009

What's that old song about rainy days and Mondays? Yeesh.

Chris wasn't much interested in going to school today and I can't say I blame him. When it was time to head out the weather was like a scene from A Perfect Storm (I was playing George Clooney -- hold your laughs.)

He went, but he wasn't happy.

I'm taking a vacation day today -- I still have unused time from like 1999 or something so . . . today is an errand day. The sun is actually shining right now but the weather forecast is for more ugly weather in the afternoon.

- - -

Given that I blogged yesterday and I'm having a quiet Monday, there's not a lot of clever commentary from me.

I will say that it seems that between the hours of 9a and 4p in this town, nine out of 10 drivers are women -- which usually, but not always -- means slower, safer driving.

Usually.

- - -

The Leafs cut 18-year-old Nazem Kadri yesterday, sending the training camp sensation back to the London Knights for another year. It's got to be a big disappointment for him but ultimately, you have to think it's in his best interests to spend one more year developing his confidence and skills with a lot of ice time -- way more than he'd see with the Leafs.

Expect to see him in blue and white next year. Read more here.

- - -

After Chris's practice yesterday I gave the remote control a pretty decent workout -- NFL, golf . . . there were several options.

Tiger Woods ended up losing the battle but winning the war, finishing 2nd to Phil Mickelson in the season-ending tour championship but still accumulating enough points to win the FedEx Cup season championship, and a $10 million prize.

Good thing, he probably needs the money.

I was secretly hoping someone else would leap past Tiger via the complicated math that drove the standings, and thus win the big purse -- imagine the controversy if Tiger hadn't won Player of the Year, after winning six times?

Oh well. Maybe next year.

- - -

A little side note on journalism today -- William Safire, the long-time New York Times columnist and acknowledged guru on the English language, died yesterday. He was 79.

A legendary character and wordsmith, Safire had a long and colourful career, including a stint as a speech writer in the Nixon White House.

In that role for Nixon, he was charged with writing a speech that, fortunately, Nixon never had to give. He prepared a standby text for the president to read in the event that the 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing ended in disaster. You can read about that short speech here.

And you can read about Safire's remarkable life here.

Sept 27, 2009

Welcome to a Sunday blog update. Whether this becomes regular is going to largely depend on a variety of schedules -- IP, timekeeping, rep hockey, etc -- we'll try for a bit and see how it goes.

- - -

I'm just back home after watching Chris practice with his new team. He knows a fair number of the boys from previous teams, school, etc. and he really happy with the whole scenario. I keep telling him the coaches are probably evil, but he rolls his eyes and says they're all really nice.

That was our only event today, praise be, but it was a good one with lots of action and movement on the ice and even some dryland training before hand.

All good on that front.

This season marks the first time since the fall of 1997 that I have no role on the bench as a coach, trainer or assistant with either of my boys. That's 12 years and right now I feel a little like an old retired fire horse in the barn, banging around in my stall when the alarm rings and the other horses get to pull the equipment to the fire.

Frankly, I had my head around the fact that this day was coming a year ago as was ready to step back then. As much as I love being involved with my kids' hockey, I also believe that there comes a time when they need mentors and leaders and voices in their lives beyond their parents. I stepped back from Pad's hockey several years ago, just as Chris was starting, and I stepped right onto his bench then.

And now? Now where's an old fire horse to go?

Back to the beginning, that's where.

 - - -

Saturday was the Initiation Program's OMHA Timbit Festival.

As you might expect, the guys from the OMHA rain a first-class program for the kids and parents and were incredibly helpful to all of ice from coaches to conveners to parents.

A very sincere thank-you to John, Dennis, Ryan and all the folks from the OMHA who made this run so well.

Also, Adele and Ann did a great job off the ice making sure that the kids got to where they were supposed to be and that enough volunteers had been corralled for the entire day.

And, also thanks to the many guys who stepped up and gave up a chunk of their Saturday to help out on the ice.

Was it worth it?

Um, duh.

Yes.

The kids are the winners from an effort like this, but I think the adults came away feeling pretty good about it all, too. I did.

And hey, Maple Lodge Farms served up the hot dogs, so, a big thanks to them too! (Even though I didn't get any, the kids said they were great!)

The kids looked sharp in their new jerseys with the ubiquitous Tim's logo that has defined hockey for this age group for more than 15 years.

One cool things about IP is that the kids actually listen to you. Well, some of the kids. Most of the time . . .

It's all about the kids. It's all about the kids. It's all about kids! And Ben looks sharp, below.

Anyway, that's just a little of the flavour from the day.

It was fun. That is the first and only goal, even for the old horses.

My hero from the first couple of weeks is my new buddy Andrew. But more on him another time. Sidney Crosby should be worried!

- - -

How about those Leafs? Winning two in a row over the Wings? Even if it is only meaningless pre-season hockey, I would never have guessed that was going to happen.

I'm on the Leafs' web site's email distribution list, and on Friday afternoon I got an email offering up a chance to buy some last-minute tickets to last night's game.

I knew we couldn't go -- Pad had a practice -- but I was curious if I could actually get four tickets and what it would cost.

Well, now I know.

I plugged the data into the form, courtesy of the parasites at Ticketmaster, and awaited the result.

Four lower-bowl red seats were offered.

$814 for four seats, including $30 in charges directly from Ticketmaster.

Add $20 for parking, plus another $100 for snacks, plus the inevitable trip to the souvenir store, and the evening tops out well over $1,000.

I muttered aloud that the Leafs and Ticketmaster could shove their tickets in their five hole and took a pass on the offer.

The sooner Jim from Rim gets another hockey team in southern Ontario, the better off we'll all be.

Sept 25, 2009

I had to stop and buy a couple of 10-ride tickets at Union Station this morning -- it's always smart to do this well before the last couple of days of the month, when the monthly pass holders form a conga line that extends from Union Station to Bloor Street.

Anyway, the lady processing my purchase told me I "looked nice."

She made my day.

Well, at least the first part of it.

- - -

Laura got off a plane from Winnipeg yesterday, which is usually better than getting on a plane to Winnipeg.

After four nights away for work she was glad to be home. If a sparkling clean house is a 9 out of 10, then I'd say we delivered a 7 for her.

She was so tired I think we could have gotten by with a 4, which means Pad, Chris and I over-tidied significantly.

In the time she was gone, we only ordered out for food once, which I think is a new personal best (or worst, depending on your point of view) and no one was poisoned.

- - -

What's with all the spider webs this month? I'm getting really tired of getting a face full of spider web every morning when I pick up the newspapers. Geez.

- - -

All the hockey news today, it seems, is Wayne Gretzky and his resignation as head coach of the Phoenix Coyotes.

Much ink will be spilled over all of this, but before the scribes do that, it is interesting to read some of the ink spilled by the Great One's own lawyers and the folks involved in the messy bankruptcy proceedings around the Coyotes.

Globe columnist Stephen Brunt, aside from being one of the business's most thoughtful writers in any section of the newspaper, has also just finished writing a soon-to-be released book on Gretzky (Gretzky's Tears: Hockey, Canada, and the Day Everything Changed). And on Thursday he wrote a rather unsentimental -- bordering on withering -- assessment of Gretzky's probable motivation on the matter.

In essence, he said if a player under contract behaved the way Gretzky did, he would be vilified. But, Gretzky -- who also has a contract -- is Gretzky, and the normal rules of engagement do not apply. Wayne's looking out for Number One.

It's a fascinating perspective from someone who has spent a fair amount of time looking behind the Gretzky curtain.

You can read it here.

In today's paper, some spiffy reporting on the way Gretzky's folks handled negotiations with the Coyotes over Wayne's contract, which is to say, hardball. Nothing wrong with that, biz is biz. But some of the demands were expensive and a bit over the top (Wayne asked for a veto over any change in ownership, for example.)

Moot point now. Read that story here.

And then finally, a column on what might be next for Gretzky, here.

Wayne Gretzky is a great Canadian (even though he's lived in the US for 20 years) and has done more for the game of hockey as an ambassador and the face of the game than can be articulated here.

He has also done fairly well from the game in promoting and protecting his own interests, pitching products and all of that.

And why wouldn't he?

He's too important a figure in the sport to be on the sidelines.

Maybe Jim Balsillie will sign him to a personal services contract . . .

- - -

It's Friday, so it's back to the rinks for us and many others.

Chris hits the ice with his new team tonight for the first time with a practice at the palatial Kinoak Sports and Entertainment Complex. I mean, MAPLEGROVE.

Pad has a practice too.

Tomorrow, it's all Timbits all the time as the OMHA wizards come to town to host the Initiation Program Festival at River Oaks, which is sort of an education program for parents on the goals and objectives of IP while the kids get some ice time, watch a movie, eat hot dogs, play games and have fun.

It promises to be a fun day, and here's hoping my knees hold up through it all.

I haven't seen the official OMHA IP show but I'm told they do a crackerjack job and all that guys like me have to do is, um, what they tell me to do. I'm good with that.

I'm hoping to take some photos of events on and off the ice, or maybe have Laura do that, as she will also be volunteering for part of the day, helping to direct the parents from point A to B and beyond.

Sunday, Chris is on the ice again and I think -- think -- that is it.

So my plan is, after a long summer recess, to resume Sunday blogging this weekend. We'll see!

- - -

The kids who have played for me over the years in hockey and lacrosse and even soccer may well remember me muttering a favoured expression from time to time.

"It's better to be lucky than good." Usually after a goal post is nailed or some other fortuitous bounce.

While it's also true that luck favours the prepared mind, sometimes people are just lucky, period. And with that in mind, a three-minute video of some incredibly lucky people. You may have seen this before. I have, too.

But it's worth watching again.

If you're reading this, my guess is that you, too, will be in the rinks this weekend.

Have fun. Enjoy being busy. Hug the kids. Get lucky!

Sept 24, 2009

Two quick hits today:

The first is around the age-old question of sorting house league kids: red, white and blue.

This week, me and Dave both told same versions of the same story in defence of the system as we sort through IP assignments -- and the system's strong suit is that it allows kids to play with and against kids of similar abilities.

Years ago, I coached a team of "paperweight" kids -- as we called the Timbits in those days. We entered the season-ending Erindale pre-novice tournament and under the rules, each team has to designate the five weakest players on the roster. Those players wear an orange arm band during the games and only play against the other team's orange arm band kids.

We called the five -- and my kid (who is a AAA midget today) was one of them -- the all-star line.

A mom of one of those boys called me before the tournament almost in tears. Please don't do this to my son. He'll know he's being grouped as weak. He'll be devastated. He'll never play hockey again. Please, please don't do this.

After 40 minutes I assured her that the folks in Erindale have been at this for 20 years, so let's trust the system. I won't let any kid be hurt in any way. If it starts to go sideways, I'll step in. Etc etc.

In the first game, her son not only played his strongest game of the year (because he was playing against guys just like him) he also scored a goal. He took that confidence forward and became a red-level house league player and one of the best rep lacrosse athletes in Oakville.

He became a competitive maniac. He was on the verge of quitting hockey, and then couldn't wait for the next season to come. That experience changed him, there was no doubt.

And in fact, the other kids on the team never figured out what the deal was with the arm bands -- everyone wanted to be on "the all star line."

Sorting the kids makes it fun. It works. Trust the system.

Kids on ice = fun.

If you worry too much beyond that equation, you're over-thinking the issue.

- - -

The second item today is a new book out there. It would be nice if MOHA would buy a copy of it for every parent in the association, but that's not practical.

TSN analyst Bob McKenzie is the author of Hockey Dad: True Confessions of a (Crazy?) Hockey Parent.

It should be a must read. McKenzie -- who knows the game inside and out -- pours out his heart and beats himself up miserably for his shortcomings as a hockey dad, in the hope that others can avoid the same mistakes.

As we all know and are all guilty of, there's a line being enthused and insane.

As McKenzie recounts, it takes a special coach to call for two stick measurements on the other team. In one period. In atom. Which he did. And he said there would have been a third, but the head coach intervened to stop him.

It sounds funny in the telling, but it's very real.

And McKenzie wishes everyone would take a deep breath and step back from the edge a bit.

He has two boys -- one playing college hockey now in the US, another who had to quit because of a concussion. So, he may not have seen it all, but he's seen a lot.

It's a good story, well told, by an experienced voice. There are lessons for us all to either learn or revisit.

You can read a terrific column on the book here.

Sept 23, 2009

First full day of fall and the weather is stupid warm -- humid, sticky, ick. I don't mind this in July. But late September?

Expect a lot of moisture on the glass in the rinks until the air clears a bit!

- - -

Halo 3 was successfully acquired last night and Chris spent a fruitful evening laying waste to alien populations. I'm not sure if they came in peace, but they left in pieces.

He asked me several times to take a controller and try the game, but, um, no thanks.

I'm too old.

I once tried Guitar Hero and all that accomplished was to reveal a feature of the game my kids had never seen before. If the game participant is so hopelessly bad -- and I was -- and can't keep up with the song, the other members of the band (shown on the TV screen) literally throw down their instruments and walk off the stage with disgusted looks on their faces.

And that's what happened to me.

So, I'll stick to working on my ice dance routine and straightening my hair brush collection.

Chris and Pad (and me) did pause from the interstellar destruction to greet the Swiss Chalet delivery man.

As Chris says: "This is what we do when mom is away."

- - -

It was overTime Tuesday in Toronto:

Nazem Kadri may not be likely to make the big club this fall, but he's sure making a strong showing, leading the Leafs past the Penguins in  3-2 shootout win. Leaf fans should temper their excitement -- the Pens left Crosby, Malkin and Fluery at home. Read the story here.

Meanwhile, down the block at the Rogers Centre, the Blue Jays beat Baltimore in 11 innings, in front of about half as many people who were at the Leaf game, in a building that will hold about two and half times the fans as the ACC. And you can read about that here.

- - -

I think one of the major problems faced by the Leafs this season -- aside from the near total lack of offensive pop, dubious special teams and goaltending that has yet to be battle tested and proven worthy -- is Brian Burke. But I don't mean that the way it sounds.

I think it's a problem when a pro team's biggest star isn't an athlete. And on the Leafs, Burke is the star of the team.

Phil Kessel may change that dynamic when he gets to suit up in two months.

Or maybe it will be Gustavasson.

In a couple of years it will become Luke Schenn, but he's not there yet.

As a GM, Burke is larger than life, even in a market like Toronto. But it just feels weird that he's the star of the show.

Part of it is the media's fault -- Burke is seen as the saviour of the Leafs and every time he moves someone shoves a microphone in front of him. Welcome to Toronto.

Part of it is the "star vacuum" on the ice. The departure of Mats Sundin, as well as fan favorites like Tucker and Domi and others, means there's no obvious leader in the room, on the ice, or in the media scrum.

I want to see the day Luke Schenn wears the C on his jersey. Then maybe Burke can go about his work without a spotlight on him and the stars of the team will all be wearing blue and white.

- - -

If anyone was trying access this site yesterday afternoon -- between say 1:30p and 5:30p or so -- and couldn't, the site may have been down. I was checking the logs last night and there's a large and unusual gap in the file at that time.

Anyway, if that happened to you, sorry.

Sept 22, 2009

With mom out of town working for a couple days, I'm doing a little more on the home front (like, um, feeding the kids and pretending to keep the house clean).

Last night Pad had a practice so Chris came with us rather than sit home alone for a couple of hours.

It was his first look at his brother's new team and his scouting report was succinct -- they're big and fast. I agree with both those things, although until they play some games it will be tough to know how they stack up.

After dropping Pad at the rink I took Chris out for a burger for dinner and we talked, mostly about hockey. He wanted to know when he would find out what team he was on for the coming year.

I told him that the minor bantam house league draft was happening while were were eating, and he'd likely hear something tomorrow.

When we got home, the red light on the phone was flashing. His new coach had called and left a message, asking Chris to call him. But the important stuff was in the message. Chris was drafted into Red house league.

He was thrilled speechless.

For the uninitiated, MOHA minor bantam has three levels -- blue, white and red. Red is the top level, and the only one that allows checking. Chris has always played white, so for him this is a pretty big deal.

There were lots of high fives and some very nice words from his older brother, who was clearly impressed with what had happened.

And then from me, the cautionary word: I told him that he's heard me say the same thing to Pad many times over the years, and that us: Now the hard work begins. You have a new opportunity. Go out and show them you belong and what you can do. Work hard. And have fun.

He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

- - -

People who know me, and especially those whose kids I have been lucky enough to coach, know that I think the tiered house league system is a good one, mainly because it lets kids compete against others with skills largely similar to their own. Kids move around from red and white, white and blue, some are crestfallen (been there in other years), others elated (see above).

But it's all hockey. And it's still fun. After week one, the kids don't talk about red or white or blue, they just play. Some parents do, but that's a topic for another day.

It's hockey. It's fun at any level.

It's important for us old folks to remember that. 

- - -

To add to the excitement, Halo 3 comes out today, which doesn't mean much to me or probably you. To me, Halo 3 is what a really old angel might wear on his head after wearing out Halo 1 and 2.

But Halo 3 to Chris and his buddies is the latest version of one of the world's best known and most-played sci-fi digital games, for X-Box. He preordered it weeks ago and this morning he had just one question: When will I be home from work so I can take him to get it.

To celebrate his hockey draft selection, the three of us are having a Swiss Chalet and movie night. And, I suspect, Halo 3.

If you want to read about the new game, you can here.

- - -

Some rep teams have already seen tournament action.

The Oakville Rangers novice AAA team attended the Peterborough Kawartha Tournament last weekend and came away with the gold medal, beating a very tough Port Credit Team in OT in the finals, 3-2
Many of these faces are familiar from lacrosse and baseball. Well done folks!
The team is Tanner Elson, Mathew Franzoi, Mathew Hill, Michael Jackman, Dylan Jackson, Ty Jackson, Kyle Kachan, Lucas Lorimer, Alton McDermott, Grant Munden, Ryan O'Hara, Duncan Penman, Bradley Somers, Alexcei Song, Will Thomas, Jack Tos, and Michael Vukojevic.
Coaching staff is Bryan McDermott, Paul Jackson, and Damon Kachan.

Sept 21, 2009

What a great day.

Sunday was evaluation day for the MOHA Initiation Program and while some of us -- me, Dave, Ann and Adele, and others no doubt -- were pretty exhausted by the end of the marathon it was well worth it.

We looked at the best part of 300 kids over 11 hours and were almost crushed under the combined weight of enthusiasm and smiles.

We had plenty of terrific volunteers who helped out on the ice and at the desk and without them, none of it could have been possible.

But the stars of the show were the kids and they rocked River Oaks.

We had them chanting the three rules of Timbits hockey -- Rule 1, have fun. Rule 2, have fun. Rule 3, have fun! They played a scrimmage and did a couple of basic drills. They fell. They got up. They slid and smiled and skated.

I feel a little guilty because I think we had as much fun as they did, but I'm pretty sure that's OK too.

The next step is to assemble the teams, recruit a couple more coaches and gear up for the OMHA IP festival next weekend, where the parents get educated on the goals of the program while the kids are entertained on and off the ice.

I have bad knees and spending the number of hours I did yesterday in skates didn't help.

But wow. What a great experience.

- - -

Quote of the day from one IP participant:

Me: You're a pretty good skater.

Him: Yes, I am.

Me: Do you like to skate?

Him: Yes, except when the ice is slippery. Then it's harder to skate.

Me: Got it.

- - -

There were evaluation skates and drafts and all manner of activities on yesterday and it wasn't until mid-afternoon that I discovered it was actually a pretty nice day outside.

Chris had his minor bantam skate and was in a very good mood last night.

On Saturday, he and I hit the ice at Glen Abbey for public skating so he could try out his new blades.

Walking through the parking lot he sized up my very old Bauer Supremes with the rusty blades.

"Dad, how old are those skates?"

Nineteen years, I said. (I know that because I bought them in Ottawa to skate on the canal.)

"Don't you think you could spring for a new pair?"

Um, no. These ones are fine.

Fast forward 20 minutes, Chris is whirling around the ice.

He slides alongside me.

"My feet hurt."

Yep. That's what happens with new skates.

"What do we do?"

WE don't do anything. YOU keep skating to break them in.

"Oh."

And BTW, that's why I've been wearing the same skates for 19 years. Because breaking in new skates is only slightly less torturous than GO train service or calling Cogeco customer assistance.

So, I'll keep my old blades, thanks. They're not pretty, but they work.

- - -

So, on balance, I spent more waking hours in rinks than out on the weekend -- two hours at Tomken with Pad on Friday, public skating with Chris on Saturday followed by two more hours at Tomken with Pad, then the IP thing Sunday. Today, we're back to Tomken for another Sens practice.

Minor bantam HL draft continues tonight.

- - -

At public skating I probably saw, oh, 100 people I know. Everyone wanted to talk -- I'm happy to talk -- and it was fun to see so many folk glad to be back at a rink. MOHA, GTHL, the Leafs, new skates, the blog, my lovely wife, tournaments . . .  the topics were endless.

I'll check with them all in January and see how the enthusiasm is holding up.

- - -

The Leafs finally get their Phil, so to speak.

I'm not sure what to think on this. On one hand, they paid a high price in draft picks -- two first rounders and a 2nd rounder. Having seen the Leafs of yesteryear squander such draft picks before, it makes me queasy.

On the other hand, the Leaf scouting machine is much stronger these days and has landed a bucket of young players via free agency and the NCAA, as well as the draft. So, Burke -- who knows what he's doing -- may feel there are a fair number of talented young guys around and getting a proven goal scorer who is a Top 6 forward (and only 21) is worth it.

I dunno.

You can read more here and decide for yourself.

- - -

Sept 18, 2009

TGIF. But the weekend workload promises to swamp what happened from Monday to Friday, although the weekend will be more fun.

Actually, I jump started the weekend last night by heading to Iceland in Mississauga for some pre-season hockey tournament action, where both the Oakville Ranger minor bantam AA team, and a GTHL AA squad sporting an alumnus of the famous Oakville Big Blue Machine of IP days long passed also played.

It was fun to see the kids competing and even though it's only mid September the building had a mid-season vibe: lots of kids and siblings tearing around the place; coaches and/or dads huddled in corners with coffee cups, fretting over any number of things are are truly inconsequential; moms under blankets; and players having fun.

Tonight and Saturday night I'll be back at the rink (Pad has practices), then on hand at River Oaks on Sunday for 11 fun-filled hours of Initiation Program evaluations, plus Chris has a minor bantam house league evaluation skate Sunday morning, and then Monday night another practice with Pad.

A busy weekend. A fun weekend.

- - -

I'm being dragged reluctantly into autumn. Other than going to work, I have refused to wear jeans or anything other than shorts during weekends and evenings. And that includes at the rink.

In late August, it was no problem. The rinks were still fairly warm. Last weekend as Pad worked out at Tomken, it became uncomfortably chilly near the end of the practice.

Last night at Iceland, same thing.

So tonight, I'll probably throw in the towel and dig out the blue jeans for the first time in the 2009-10 hockey season.

Never mind autumn; winter is coming.

- - -

A fairly significant number of kids in Pad's cohort -- 1993s, hockey parents call them -- have either packed it in completely this year or opted out of rep hockey in favour of high school hockey.

One talented athlete I know is focusing completely on rugby. Another on lacrosse. And many others found the convenience and chick-appeal of high school hockey too much of a lure to ignore.

In Halton, rep hockey players are not permitted to play both rep and high school. They have to pick one or the other, unlike many other school boards in the GTA. High school hockey is generally played close to home, the games are almost always in the afternoons on weekdays, and the practices are often in the morning.

Which, to use the popular expression in our house, means no 9p games in Orangeville on a Tuesday night.

Plus, unlike rep hockey -- where if you're lucky -- the crowd will consist of about 30 parents keeping warm over their Tim Horton's coffee, high school games draw large, loud, passionate crowds, a large percentage of whom are female.

Oddly, this is very appealing to Grade 11 and 12 hockey players. Go figure.

And in spite of what many say, the hockey's not bad either.

All of these rep retirements in Oakville created a fair amount of movement on some Ranger teams, but the important thing is that the kids who still want to play competitive hockey at age 16 and 17 still have options.

And just FYI, from what I can see of the exodus, I'd say watch out for Loyola on the Halton high school circuit. A fair number of talented kids will be in their lineup.

- - -

And now, the obligatory Friday non-hockey thing :

GQ magazine has this annoying habit of putting Jennifer Aniston on the cover ever year or so. And I have the annoying habit of posting a link to it, because I consider it a public service.

On Fridays, I consider it an especially important public service, and you can thank me in person when you see me at a rink.

For example, Jen Jen won the GQ woman of the year award in November 2005 -- a month before I started this blog.

So, here's a link to that cover, better late than never.

More regularly, and by popular demand, I've provided a link to her cover from this year, where she posed wearing nothing but a neck tie. I know for a fact that this link is very popular with lacrosse coaches. And you can find that cover here.

With the release of Transformers II this summer, my sons impressed upon me the need to promote the wonders of Megan Fox, who unlike Jen won't be 40 for a long, long time. As Chris described the movie, almost two and half hours of things blowing up, plus Megan Fox. How can you go wrong?

So that led to some public-service links to the young Ms. Fox, who doesn't hold the same allure to me as Jen, but certainly appears to be enjoying good physical health. (Having read some of the stuff that falls out of her mouth, I'm not sure I can say the same about her mental condition. No matter.)

Anyway, this month young Megan is, like the song says, on the cover of The Rolling Stone.

And you can enjoy that visage here.

It's Friday. We all need a distraction.

- - -

Back to hockey -- the Leafs won last night in London, 4-0 over Philly. It doesn't mean anything, except it's better than losing 4-0. We'll take it.

- - -

So, as noted at the top, a busy weekend ahead. You know it's hockey season when the dance card starts filling up like that. Frankly, we wouldn't have it any other way.

A good friend of ours and a familiar face around Oakville rinks is dealing with one of his boys having gone off to university and the transition, as usual, is harder on the parents than they imagined.

So, I'll happily take the busy evenings and weekends while that window is still open for me. My involvement with the IP kids will address the need to see small hands around juice boxes every now and then.

But I can only imagine what our friend must be feeling -- our house moves 100 miles an hour, like everyone else who has kids. Hockey, guitar, hockey, school, lacrosse, hockey and of course, hockey. Birthday parties, dates (!), BTNL, homework . . . when/if all of that activity is outsourced to a distant campus, I'm not sure how we'll cope. Like legions of parents before us, I guess we'll find a way.

We still have two years before we have to worry about it, but sometimes we worry about it anyway.

Which is all the more reason to take a minute this weekend and make sure you're enjoying the tumult of your busy life. It's supposed to be fun. Make sure the kids are smiling and whatever happens, let them know they're doing great.

Don't chew him out in the car on the way home over a missed defensive assignment or a blown scoring chance. The coaches will do that, hopefully constructively.

It's not what they look to you for.

Let the coaches coach; as parents, we have to encourage and support, reinforce and love. Chances are pretty good your kids are already trying their hardest to impress you. So, tell them you're impressed.

And give them a hug while they're still under your roof and emptying your fridge.

Have a great weekend.

Sept 17, 2009

Was it just me, or did the kids on the Leafs look . . .OK?

I mean they lost 3-2 to the Bruins, and both teams sat a lot of regulars, but the Leafs youngsters competed pretty well I thought. Granted, they are a long way from being a top-eight team, but maybe -- maybe -- things are moving in the right direction.

Read more here.

- - -

We had a chance to go last night -- all the tickets were free, as I understand it -- and a friend had a couple. But I was trapped in meetings until late, plus U-2 was entertaining 60,000 people a couple of blocks down the street from the ACC and well, getting out of the downtown might have been a bit of an adventure. Too much of an adventure for pre-season hockey that I can watch in HD at home.

So, I went home.

- - -

There was a small item in the weekend papers about Leaf goalie Jonas Gustavasson exiting training camp in an ambulance because of dehydration. No big deal, said the team.

When was the last time someone was sent to hospital, in an ambulance, for dehydration?

There was a longer item in yesterday's papers about him since having a heart procedure, known as catheter ablation, to correct wonky electrical issues with his heartbeat that caused it to race.

I've been a spectator at this movie -- actually, a more complicated version that also involved a sometimes low heart rate on top of a sometimes racing one -- and I'd say Gustavasson is lucky.

He's lucky first of all that he was at a professional hockey team's training facility with lots of wires and tubes attached to him when he experienced the symptoms. Because, as was the case with the person I saw go through this, it can happen any time, and physical exertion really had little to do with it. Capturing the episode while everyone is watching is the tricky part.

Second, I'd say he's lucky to play for the Leafs, who apparently have some very good contacts within the medical community. Because for a professional athlete in peak condition, like Gustavasson, the arrhythmia (irregular heartbeat) probably posed no mortal danger. Ordinary folks opting for the ablation can expect to wait three to six months, at best, to get the procedure. So, so much for universal health care, equal access, blah blah blah.

Third, I'd say he's lucky the media were so gullible to buy the dehydration story for 24 hours or so. Sheesh.

Side note: queue jumping is nothing new for pro sports. Ever wonder why it takes you nine months to get an MRI on your wonky knee, but a Leaf will have his done before CBC has time to drape a towel over his shoulders and put him on TV?

I don't know if the Leafs have special access to private clinics, special insurance, a unique arrangement with hospitals, or what. But they obviously don't have to wait.

Anyway, all that aside, I'm glad The Monster is going to be OK.

He certainly would not have been able to play until it was fixed. The symptoms that comes with a racing heartbeat -- and by racing, we're likely talking something north of 250 to 300 beats a minute, a condition that can come upon you even while you sleep -- are you feel faint and awful.

The heart beats so fast that it's not actually pumping much blood at all, hence your blood pressure goes lower and lower and you faint, or at the very least feel like crap and your heart feels like it's going to jump out of your body.

Many Leaf goalies in the last 40 years have looked asleep in the net; at least Jonas would have had an excuse.

There's really no such thing as "minor" heart surgery. When you consider ablation, the list of things that can go wrong -- I think doctors enjoy that part of the conversation -- is long and scary. Being 24 and an elite athlete likely reduces those risks a lot, and in fact other NHLers have had similar procedures and been back on the ice within a week.

- - -

Yesterday, I ragged on the Leafs for not playing any Canadian venues that weren't NHL cities.

Tonight they will play in London, versus the Flyers.

My God, the power I wield.

I wish.

The game has obviously been scheduled for a long time. Just as obviously, the game is listed on the Leafs' official web site on the official pre-season schedule. I checked there, but somehow managed to get the 2008 pre-season schedule.

I've written myself a stern letter of reprimand. My error. Entirely my fault. I hope this doesn't mean Bryan Burke won't offer me a position as the 7th defenceman, the character guy in the locker room with the grey whiskers.

All their remaining pre-season games are, however, in NHL cities.

- - -

I had no sooner told my Mr. Hockey story yesterday when a reader sent me a picture of him and a couple of buddies with Gordie himself. Very cool. Thanks for that.

- - -

A new study suggests that the hormones your body produces when you're happy flow more freely when you exercise with a group of people, as opposed to exercising alone.

Gee. All this time I thought it was because of the woman at the gym on the step machine in front of me in the LuLu pants.

I learn something new every day.

Read more here.

- - -

There's a house for sale in a nice Chicago neighbourhood.

It's a big, rambling old place on a large lot in a tony, leafy area of town. It needs some work.

It's quiet -- the neighbours have moved away for a government job and only show up a couple of times a year to pick up their mail.

And it's secure -- the street has perhaps the best Neighbourhood Watch program in the world, given that the neighbour who moved away for the government job is Barack Obama and the Secret Service won't let anyone on the street who doesn't live there or otherwise can prove why they need to be on the street.

Read more here.

- - -

Tomorrow, Megan vs. Jen Jen.

It's the Friday Smackdown!

Sept 16, 2009

To address the mail bag and other odds and ends, some quick hits to start:

• No, I won't be renaming this site or otherwise launching teammississauga.com

• Yes, you can expect to read a lot about five and six year old hockey players in the weeks ahead.

• No, I haven't played any golf since returning from Nova Scotia. In fact my clubs are still in Nova Scotia.

• Yes, Laura did buy another pair of shoes last night. (No one actually asked about that; I'm just pointing it out.)

• Oakville residents can go public skating in Mississauga, and no one will notice or care.

- - -

Regular readers will know that a particular pet peeve of mine during hockey season is hitting to the head. Actually, it's not so much the hitting to the head as it is the failure of some game officials to enforce existing rules about head contact, and coaches who a) tolerate it and b) apparently have no clue how to teach a kid how to properly execute a check without deliberate head contact.

Go to almost any rep-level hockey game and your seat won't even be warm before you will see one player check another using the time-tested technique of putting both his gloves together and delivering an upward blow under the chin or to the head of the player he is checking at the moment of impact.

It is epidemic.

At last, for 2009/10, a ray of hope.

For the coming season, head contact has been singled out by Hockey Canada in a summer action bulletin, which highlights the sort of infractions referees will be cracking down on in games this year.

Good thing, too. There are way too many concussions in hockey; funny, but for all the years we've played lacrosse, I don't recall a single kid on a team we've played on suffering a concussion.

You can read the directive on the OHF web site here.

- - -

A couple of non-hockey things:

I'm a regular reader of Esquire magazine, ever since way back in the 1970s my dad bought an issue they dedicated completely to sports. The writing and photography in that issue made a big impact on me.

It featured a life-size photo of Muhammad Ali's fist. That woke me up to how big and powerful pro athletes are -- I could fit both my fists into the photo of his with room to spare.

Anyway, I was reading the magazine on vacation last month and it carried a very detailed story on the tragic helicopter crash off Newfoundland last month that killed 17 people.

In the course of the story it was revealed that the Transportation Safety Board investigator looking in that crash was the son of a survivor of a small plane crash off Yarmouth, NS, in 1981. That crash killed his stepmother and stepsister.

Regulars here will know that I worked in Yarmouth as a reporter for the Halifax Chronicle-Herald way back then.

I covered that crash, and I have quite a vivid recollection of the incident, particularly the loss of the little girl, who was only three.

Anyway, it was a weird moment reading it in Esquire and I know you all enjoy my moments of weirdness.

You can read the (long) Esquire story here. It's very good.

- - -

I'm not going to review in detail the boorish behaviour of Kanye West, or Serena Williams, or any number of other people every day or week -- like me, for that matter.

But a New York Times columnist -- without naming them -- gives them and the rest of us louts a pretty decent slapdown in a piece yesterday.

If you'd like some perspective on how things have changed over the decades, click here.

- - -

The Leafs play the Bruins in pre-season hockey tonight. I'm being careful not to use the word "action."

You would think the pre-season would be a great time for the Leafs and Habs and Senators and others to play some games in the hinterland, rather than lining the coffers of the team via the ACC or Bell Place or whatever.

But mostly, you'd be wrong.

All Leafs pre-season games are at NHL venues.

The Habs have one -- in Quebec City -- that's actually a Bruins home game.

The Sens opened the pre-season in Halifax and will have a game in Regina, too.

I guess when you're the Leafs, you don't have to worry about growing the base. But one of the greatest thrills of my life was 41 years ago this month, getting to see Montreal play Detroit at the Halifax Forum.

My dad stood in line on his lunch break to get standing-room-only tickets for us and my cousin Mike. I didn't even know we were going until two hours before game time and I wish I had a photo of the look on my face when I found out.

Seeing Gordie Howe was a thrill I'll never forget. That he was injured and not scheduled to play, put played anyway, was an early lesson that a few others in the game then and now might want to revisit.

He played because he knew a whole bunch of people spent their lunch hour -- and then some -- standing in line so they could bring a kid to see him. It wasn't about his ego, it was about his responsibility. I may be a Leaf fan (it's like arthritis, it gets in the bone, hurts, and doesn't go away) but Mr. Hockey? The one and only.

Anyway, the Leafs will play the Bruins at the ACC, which is very convenient for the folks commuting from training camp in Etobicoke but is a lost opportunity to kids in places like St. John's or Thunder Bay or Kingston or . . . you get the idea.

Sept 15, 2009

The readers have chastised me for not being a little (actually, a lot) more prompt about Monday postings. The apparent rationale being that summer is over, you're all back to work, and in exchange for nothing at all I have to work to your reading deadlines.

Um, sorry. I can't imagine what we were thinking about here.

The research team here at teamoakville will try to do better next time.

- - -

Roger Federer lost? What's up with that? Maybe a sign of the changing of the guard in tennis?

We'll see. Read more here.

- - -

Two noteworthy items from Leaf training camp:

1. Brian Burke has still not called me.

2. Top Leaf draft pick Nazem Kadri's chances of making the Leafs are only slightly better than mine.

Coach Ron Wilson acknowledges that Kadri's play in training camp has been terrific, but the soon-to-be-19-year-old will have to make the team as a first or second line centre -- ahead of Matt Stajan and Mikhail Grabovski -- in order to stick with the team.

Wilson said Luke Schenn was in the same position last year among the defencemen, but suggested that given the state of the Leaf blueline a year, Schenn's chances were probably better.

In the meantime, while I sit by the phone, you can read the story here.

- - -

I noted yesterday that the Oakville Rangers had finalized most of their rosters. For the first time in his six years as a rep defenceman, Pad will not be patrolling the blueline for Oakville this winter.

Last spring, after two years of AA, he came to me and basically said he didn't think he'd ever get a chance to play AAA in Oakville. And while he was fine with that if that was the reality of his situation, he wanted a second opinion. He wanted to skate somewhere else and be told where he fit in.

It gets complicated -- MOHA doesn't give permission-to-skate forms to midget rep players until their own rosters are finalized. Many other centres do the same thing; it's the way things are done at midget -- teams want to see who gets cut from junior, etc., before releasing players to go to other centres.

But, they will give permission to skate forms for players wanting to go to junior camps. So that's what he decided to do.

Pad skated for some 13 hours over ten days at a tier 2 junior A spring camp, hoping to catch the eye of someone who would give him a AAA shot. It wasn't easy; he didn't know anyone on the ice or in the room. Almost everyone was older. But night after night, he just did it.

While it was clear he wasn't ready for junior A, the experience led to invitations to more mini-camps in the summer.

Long story short: he was offered a AAA midget card with a good franchise in the GTHL. And he took it.

There are policies and politics around releases and moving from one association to another, but that is technical babble that's not relevant to the story. We were patient and polite.

The MOHA folks handled the situation with tact and grace and there are no flaming bridges here and no bitterness. I hope that is mutual.

And in fact, MOHA deserves a big thank you. Several years ago, the decision to create a peewee AE team opened the door to rep not just for my kid, but 16 others, too.

Some of those guys have progressed onto A and AA teams. Others are in house league and some have stopped playing altogether. Some others may be playing AAA too -- I'm not sure.

But for my kid, the creation of that AE team was pivotal to his development. So, thanks.

And there's an irony here for long-time blog readers who are familiar with my tag line about the NHL's Ottawa team: "I don't really care for the Senators."

This season, Pad is playing for the Mississauga Senators.

Yes, it's going to take some getting used to for his dad.

Not so much for him -- he moved on in April the first night he skated at that camp. There was no turning back and now he and looks quite at home with his new teammates and those jerseys with the big centurion on the front.

I've met a few of the other parents -- there was no midget tryout skate for Pad, so we missed that -- as we hang around the rink. Mostly I'm keeping relatively quiet and just watching things unfold.

We'll miss the families we've been with for a few years on the Rangers -- wonderful, funny, generous folks. The coaches who have taken an interest in Pad and supported him will obviously be missed, but we'll see them around town.

We won't miss the 9:30p start times for Monday night games in Guelph, or the snowy drive to Orangeville or St Catharine's on weeknights. Pad's games this winter are almost all in the afternoon -- home games on Saturday, road games on Sunday, all within 30 minutes of home.

So, as I've alluded to earlier, it will be an interesting winter for him and for us. As a first-year major midget, there aren't a lot of years of minor hockey left for him. So, it was now or never.

His brother will still be in MOHA house league; I'll be helping with MOHA's IP program. We'll still come out to watch the Rangers when we can -- we wish those teams well. So MOHA hasn't seen the end of us yet.

But it's going to be different, for sure.

And with that . . . Go Sens Go.

Sept 14, 2009

Well, hockey season is well and truly off and running.

The house league Red drafts had their first passes, in most cases, in the last few days and calls will be going out to the undrafted with details of upcoming evaluation dates.

The MOHA midget Ranger teams finished their tryout skates last night, the last of the Ranger teams to be nailed down.

Good luck to all the kids on all the teams -- and to those with the evaluation skates yet to come.

- - -

Speaking of hockey players, my elder son turns sweet 16 today.

It hardly seems that long ago that he somewhat reluctantly entered the world at the University of Alberta Hospital in Edmonton, with Glen Sather making repeated calls to say "he's how big?"

He's in for an interesting winter -- more on that another day.

I won't embarrass him with long stories. I'll just say 16 is a big milestone and by anyone's standard he's a great kid and son who has done nothing but make us proud. Most days.

Happy birthday, Pad.

The Keg has been alerted to be ready.

- - -

When historians research the sports history of this era, one of the most common sentences they are likely to kind is one that will say: "Roger Federer and Tiger Woods both won on Sunday."

And, they did, yesterday.

They are probably the two most remarkable athletes in the world right now in any sport (and yes, I consider Tiger an athlete.)

Federer has one more match left at the US Open where he chases history, once again.

- - -

Speaking of Federer, yesterday he hit what he called the greatest shot of his career. And when you're as successful as Federer, well, that's saying something.

Below is the video of Federer's remarkable on-the-run, between-the-leg cross-court winner to break the spirit of Djokovic.

- - -

Still with tennis, it was late Saturday night when we caught Serena's Williams's little meltdown during her semi-final with Kim Clijsters (who last night won the US Open.)

Serena's outburst was remarkable to me in that it was a woman doing the yelling. Boorish, over-the-top rudeness is nothing new in men's tennis, but Serena's threat to shove a ball down the line judge's throat set new standards on the women's side of the draw.

And, bonus points for doing it on match point, which meant Clijsters won the match by standing quietly watching Serena blow apart like an over-inflated ego balloon.

Classy.

I'm not going to bother posting the YouTube video of that.

- - -

And because it's Monday . . . click here for a picture of Megan Fox at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Sept 11, 2009

We had the IP kickoff meeting last night at the MOHA office and there were no fights or shouting matches. The coaches seem motivated, the program looks well organized for launch and it's full steam ahead for evaluations on Sept 20.

While hanging around prior to the meeting, I was looking at the trophy case in the meeting room, filled with, um, trophies.

But one of the shelves also had an old MOHA crest -- the type that would be added to a jersey or team jacket.

I forget exactly what it said, but it was something to the effect of, "MOHA -- 1970. Celebrating 10 years."

Not wanting to entirely trust my math, I nudged Dave and pointed him to the patch.

If 1970 was ten years, then would that make 2010 . . . 50 years?"

I got it right.

Regardless of blood feuds, tribal warfare and other key components of minor hockey's administrative layer -- and I can assure you, it's fairly common in many minor hockey associations in Canada (the story of my hockey-playing youth is cratered from artillery fire of minor hockey wars) -- just as in marriage, 50 years is an anniversary worth marking.

At the very least, a commemorative patch on all the jerseys, rep and house league, would be appropriate. It's about the kids, so make the kids aware they are part of a long tradition.

Some other ideas? Stay with a theme of kids and tradition. Use history to inspire the current and future participants.

What about instituting a wall of fame at one of the rinks, honouring players from MOHA who distinguished themselves in amateur or professional ranks? Have a section for coaches, conveners and others who have personified the ideals of minor hockey. And for sure, have a section to honour executives, administrators and sponsors who have contributed to the success of the association over half a century.

Yeah I know.

The politics around creating and populating such a thing might doom it to stillbirth, but take small steps. There are people who did extraordinary things to keep minor hockey alive in hockey during some dark times years and years ago. Recognize them. Celebrate them.

Solicit the community for MOHA pictures from the last 50 years.

I'd love to see stuff like that; create a gallery on the walls of the meeting room at the MOHA office. A wall of champions -- team photos, in one place, of all OMHA and OHF champions from MOHA. The pictures exist. Put 'em up. Lots of house league teams, especially the little guys, use the MOHA office for pizza parties on weekends. Immerse them in the history of the place. Maybe even inspire them.

Put a gallery on the web, too.

Launch a tournament for white and blue-level house league. MOHA has terrific tournaments for rep and red house league. But there are more kids playing house league white and blue than play red. Get something off the ground for them, too.

An anniversary scholarship for a worthy student athlete?

Have all the surviving current and former members of the executive stand on the stage at the Oakville Centre, lock arms and sing Kumbaya?

Signed plaques/portraits in a rink of NHLers past and present from MOHA?

Assemble a history of MOHA. Ask some of the longest serving members of the association to commit their recollections to paper. Create an archive of the material. In the right hands, it could be assembled into a pamphlet, section of the web site, or simply a binder kept at the hockey office but also filed with the provincial archives. If you don't think the history of volunteer associations like MOHA are of significance, you're dead wrong. They are integral to the story of the communities themselves.

Ask players and coaches to post their best MOHA memories on a web site (moderated, of course.) A big win or heartbreaking loss. The little kid who finally broke through. Getting storm-stayed in a blizzard at a tournament in Welland. There are great stories out there. Share 300 words of a great memory with everyone.

Anyway, I'm sure others could come up with more and/or better ideas. Obviously, you don't do them all -- pick a couple and do them well.

But 50 years is, warts and all, quite an achievement. And it may be that the association already has big plans to mark the anniversary and the dimmer bulbs in the association (like me) just don't know about it. And the actual anniversary date (was the first season 1959-60, or 1960-61?) is no doubt subject to interpretation -- I'm basing my analysis of what constitutes 50 years on a single crest spotted in a trophy case while a room filled up with dads anxious to get their five and six year olds on the ice -- which is minor hockey at its core.

I do hope something is planned.

One obstacle would not be money. MOHA has a seven-figure bank account so the modest sums attached to any of these ideas would not tax the system, especially with the right people approaching the community for corporate funding to help out.

Neither would be finding people to do the work -- MOHA has one of the largest boards in the western hemisphere. Assign people to some committees.

What do you think?

- - -

Today is Sept 11. Hard to believe it's been eight years.

- - -

I was going to say that this weekend will be the last hockey-free weekend I expect to have until like, April or something. But that applies only insofar as IP and Chris's house league action go.

Pad is on the ice tonight. And tomorrow night. And Sunday night. And . . .

No complaints. We're all anxious to get back to it and see faces of friends, new and old alike.

If your weekend takes you to a rink, drive safe and enjoy the experience. It's amazing how fast the time can fly by, whether it's a decade watching kids chase a dream, or half a century in the life of a community.

As always, don't forget to hug the kids. We'll need them to run things for the next 50 years.

Sept 10, 2009

Stephen Brunt of the Globe has a first-class column today on the Bettman-Balsillie thing. If you're following this story -- and living in Canada and particularly southern Ontario, it's a hard story to avoid -- then you may be interested.

You can find it here.

A ruling on the matter -- the first of a few, I suspect -- is expected today.

- - -

My walk from Union Station up to King and Yonge usually takes me past a certain shoe store. I've never stepped inside but judging by the customers going in and out, I'd guess the inventory of the store is something like 98 per cent to two per cent, in favour of women's fashions. And that two per cent is probably the shoes on the feet of the guy who works there.

And that's fine with me. I think most men are like me and regard shoes as those things we have to wear on our feet and our wives yell at us until we get the right combination of colour that -- on good days -- matches our socks and suits.

Again, I'm fine with that. I'd rather be thinking about other things. So I have two pairs of black dress shoes -- one lace up, one loafer. I have one pair of brown. I have a pair of sandals (a gift) and a pair of sneakers. As the French say, c'est tout.

Among the adults in my house, this would rank me second in a field of two. A very distant second.

And yet again, I'm fine with that.

Because to many women -- for reasons completely and utterly lost on me, and I'm not just saying that for comic effect -- shoes seem in most instances to be a zealous fascination.

I won't do an inventory of my lovely wife's footwear, simply because I have no idea. I know she has more shoes than me; I know they are all quite fashionable and functional; I know they all look smashing on her; and most importantly, I know they make her happy.

And with that, I am really fine. I like her when she's happy and I encourage her to smile often.

Anyway, this circuitous dialogue leads back to that shoe store I pass every working day on my walk from Union Station.

And just about every other day, the manager puts a "SALE" sign up in the window and the effect is truly magical.

Other stores put up sale signs, but I have yet to see the masses converge upon their wares the way the female commuters, like ants on jam at a picnic, swarm into this store, pawing the inventory in search of an apparent backless Holy Grail with a low heel, in chocolate brown. Size seven. Maybe an eight.

I have come to the conclusion that if this store manager put up his sale sign and replaced the shoes on the sale table with a selection of fruits and vegetables, it would make no difference to the crowd sifting the inventory. Inevitably someone would hold up a banana and ask if it's available in black, a size seven. Maybe an eight.

My pace always quickens a bit as I pass this store. It's a curiosity to me, for sure, but such detailed explorations are best left to those of sturdier mettle: astronauts, perhaps, or BASE jumpers.

In the meantime, I'm quite happy to leave the female fascination with shoes on my personal list of unsolved mysteries, with the Caramilk bar and understanding the snow plowing priorities of the Town of Oakville.

- - -

If there were big headlines out the MOHA volunteer meeting last night, they were not passed on to me.

As reported elsewhere in the blogosphere, there are lots of perplexed coaches looking at house league player lists that include evaluations for players but don't apparently tell you what level the player competed at the year before.

In practical terms, it's probably less of an issue since most of the coaches are the same and they know the kids in their cohort well.

I'm told there was a very good explanation laid out for dealing with the single biggest issue facing the world today -- putting sponsor names on jerseys. And it wasn't so much that it's new or revolutionary, it's more that it was explained to people what an unmitigated disaster it is for teams to have to bring their jerseys back AFTER the season starts to have the sponsor bars added. Trust me, it can be ugly. REALLY ugly. Get a sponsor early. Get their names on your jerseys now. Avoid the heartache.

The IP meeting goes tonight, and I'm assured it will be a rollicking good time. And Tim Horton's is, thankfully, the sponsor.

Everyone -- go to Tim's, now.

- - -

Rep tryouts are all but over. The major midget squads have yet to be finalized but the last tryouts will be tonight, Saturday and Sunday.

More on all that and what adventures lie ahead for my midget kid (and us) a little later. It's been a long summer.

Good luck to everyone still chasing a spot.

- - -

And to end today, a laugh or two.

BBC news presenter Jonathon Charles might want to reacquaint himself with the comma, or semi colon, or even an old-fashioned, sentenced-ending period. At the very least, a small pause?

Here's what happens when you read faster than the teleprompter, leaving the impression that you, personally, have had quite the trauma for 20 years.

- - -

Also, if you missed it the other night at the US Open tennis tournament, Novak Djokovic did an impersonation of John McEnroe, which resulted in the 50-plus McEnroe coming down from the broadcast booth to hit some balls with Djokovic, prior which he mocked Djokovic's pre-serve routine. He even took a point on him with a 70s-era serve and volley.

It was a fun moment.

Sept 9, 2009

The MOHA volunteers meeting goes tonight at town hall -- except for us IP types, who will do our own thing tomorrow night.

Everyone knows I love a meeting -- especially the long ones, with multiple speakers and droning presentations.

But in minor hockey, they are a necessary evil.

- - -

So, Balsillie has increased his bid for the Predators to some $240 million US, which effectively knocked out one of the three parties interested in the team, leaving Jim and the NHL at the table. The NHL offer is about $100 million less than the Balsillie bid. Sadly, that's no predictor of success in this case.

For me, though, the more interesting news in the last week had nothing to do with Phoenix.

First, as previously noted, the co-owner of the Tampa Bay Lightning, Len Barrie, was on the ugly end of a scathing audit of a project he's heading with the money of a lot of current and former NHL players. Read more here.

Second, the owner of the Nashville Predators, Bill "Boots"  Del Biaggio III, was sentenced to eight years in prison yesterday for bilking investors and banks out of tens of millions of dollars, which he used to buy the hockey team. Boots has already filed for bankruptcy and the Preds will be among his assets sold off to repay some of the money back.

But . . .

My point here is simple: remember, it was the NHL board of governors that voted 26-0 (with three abstentions) to the effect that Balsillie -- Harvard MBA, co-founder of RIM, member of the Order of Canada -- is not fit to be an NHL owner.

Hmmmmm.

- - -

Everything old is new again today as The Beatles remarkable body of work is re-released with new, digitally re-mastered versions of everything and then some.

For $300 you get more than 200 songs plus a bunch of other stuff like a DVD with mini-documentaries.

I like The Beatles a lot, but I won't be lining up for this offering. I have virtually every song they released already and frankly, I'm not sure my ear is sophisticated enough to hear the difference between the old versions and new.

But it says something about the state of the music industry in 2009 that the two biggest stories of the year are a death -- of 50-year-old Michael Jackson -- and a resurrection: The Beatles.

I'm sure lots of people will buy The Beatles collection and Sir Paul and Ringo, as well as the estates of John and George -- will get richer and richer.

But as much as I like classic rock, I still get a bigger kick out of discovering new bands and artists through my kids or on my own.

But it's 09-09-09 and The Beatles are new again. Go nuts.

Read more here.

- - -

Oh yeah -- The Beatles are also being featured in a new version of the faux guitar game, Rock Band. Chris is a big fan of Rock Band and Guitar Hero, which if nothing else have served as a generational musical bridge that travels from old to young.

I would no sooner sit in front of a video game for two hours than I would run for President. But my kids do and when they do, they are challenged to match the chords of Aerosmith and Santana and Van Halen and The Rolling Stones and many other bands from earlier days of my life.

And so it will be with The Beatles, I have no doubt.

Read more here.

- - -

On Saturday when I was out with Chris buying skates, a saw several other dads I know doing the same thing.

One of them asked me why there was no MOHA MOMS skate sale this year. The MOHA MOMS skate sale was a ritual and people came from all over the GTA to paw through used equipment and find deals.

The fact is that the MOMs could soon be finished as an organization. The MOMS, as an association, kind of withered away.

It takes a tremendous amount of work to do something like the skate and equipment sale, or even bigger, hosting the house league awards week games. I mean, you need dozens of volunteers and it's hard to muster that sort of commitment from people, year in and year out.

As far as I can tell the MOMs had two heydays, and I had a ringside seat on the second one when smart, diligent hockey moms like . . . well, I won't name names for fear of leaving someone out. But they put in hours and hours on the skate sale and awards week and did a great job on behalf of the kids and coaches in between those two annual events.

There has been a posting on the MOHA web site for some time, calling for a new team of five moms to step up and take over the MOMS. If nothing surfaces, the MOMS will be folded into MOHA at the end of the month.

If that happens, MOHA teams -- especially in house league -- will still have team moms who will help out organizing parties, helping getting the kids' names on the jerseys, and helping in other ways too numerous to mention. And I have no doubt that many of those people will be central volunteers around awards week and other MOHA activities.

But they won't have an organization of their own anymore.

Anyway, if you're a hockey mom and are interested in taking over the MOMs, information on who to contact is on the MOHA site.

Sept 8, 2009

The day after Labour Day is, to me at least, more of New Year's Day than the actual New Year's Day itself.

A new school year.

A new hockey season coming up fast.

A change of seasons is at hand,

It feels more like a time for resolve, if not actual resolutions, on home improvement, self improvement, or whatever, than it does on Jan 1, when it is cold, gray, miserable, and dark.

Fall has always been my favourite time of year. As a kid, I never minded going back to school.

So, bring on the fall and the new school year and hockey and all of that. I'm ready.

- - -

It was not so simple for GO Transit today as I sit pecking in close quarters on a cramped train. There was an incident involving a pedestrian at Bronte and I suspect it had tragic consequences given the turmoil in the train schedules this morning. Suffice to say, there was no schedule. Get on a train. Any train. Good luck.

But safe to say if you're reading this, then someone had a worse morning than you.

- - -

Laura and I spent Labour Day weekend completing the overhaul of Chris's room from "little boy/dinosaur" to "young teen" (which he isn't quite yet but will be in a few weeks.)

There was a lot of blue paint involved, several trips to RONA and one visit to IKEA, which only served to remind me why I never shop at IKEA.

We weren't going to paint on Friday evening but it was a bright evening so we had at it and made a good dent in the project. So good, in fact, that all the painting was done -- primer and two coats -- by early afternoon Saturday.

Chris was able to move back into the room for Saturday night and the paint fumes ensured he slept deeply and doctors advise us that the brain damage is probably minimal.

So, on Sunday we moved on to phase 2 -- IKEA shelves.

I was first dispatched to the grocery store, where I observed the west-bound QEW was at a near standstill -- a quick traffic check on 680AM confirmed what I saw (traffic moving very slowly from Dixie Road all the way to Hamilton) but we didn't let that deter us.

The 407 empties almost literally into the parking lot of the Burlington IKEA, so off we went.

Now, I'm no expert in this sort of thing but my guess is that with the possible exception of Boxing Day, Labour Day weekend has to be the WORST possible time to go to IKEA.

Every college and university student in southern Ontario, along with their parents and two or three siblings -- were at IKEA on Sunday, ostensibly to buy cheap, stylish, easy-to-assemble Swedish furniture but in fact to do nothing more than get in my way and slow down what I fruitlessly hoped would be a quick stop.

Laura had smartly done a list of the three shelf items we wanted and even had the aisle and bin numbers. She then not-so-smartly left the list in the kitchen.

But we are (relatively) clever and managed to locate the appropriate aisle for the needed goods and set about finding the units we wanted in blue -- to match all that blue paint. An online check of the inventory showed they had plenty of blue.

We found it in white. We found it in red. And black. Maple. Maple Walnut. Birch. Beech. Yes, it seemed to be available in a veritable forest of colours other than blue.

So, then we double checked, parading up and down the warehouse aisle.

Still no blue.

Then Laura checked again, on her own.

Then I did. Ditto.

Finally, we saw someone who looked like they worked for IKEA and Laura cornered him.

Long story short: oh yes -- we have lots of blue. But not here. You have to go through the special order help desk. They will give you a slip of paper. Take the slip of paper to the checkout. Pay. You'll be given a secret password. Stand near the payphone on the yellow wall. When it rings, answer it. Ask for Sven. Give him the password. Proceed to the special order desk and they will get the blue bookcase.

I think that's how it went.

We loaded the stuff in the car, fighting for position in the loading area with every college and university student in southern Ontario, along with their parents and two or three siblings.

We then raced home, where fit young son Patrick was enlisted to move this stuff upstairs.

Laura and Pad then departed for clothes shopping and Chris and I assembled the stylish, easy-to-assemble Swedish furniture.

Among the IKEA outing, the trip to Oakville Place and a stop that Chris and I made at a sports store on Saturday, we were hemorrhaging money. I figure we moved the GDP up a point, all on our own.

Mark Carney can send me a thank-you note.

- - -

The trip to the sports store was the best fun of the weekend.

First, because it was a sports store and Chris and I could hang out there all day and not have a bored moment.

Second, because it was a big day for Chris.

Having an older brother  means a lot of things but one thing for sure it has always meant is that Chris gets hand-me-down skates. Always.

Until this year. And the trip to the store on Saturday, just me and him (yes John, after the stop at EB Games where Chris pre-ordered the new Halo) was all about skates.

He was excited. I was excited for him. And yes, we got skates.

Great, big Mission skates, wide enough for his foot and soon to be intimidating to the opposing players, I'm sure. And, they were on sale.

As Chris said: "New skates. It's a good day."

It sure was.

- - -

So, that was my weekend.

I did a lot of cleaning of things in the garage yesterday and ate a lot and now promise to train like hell so as to be offered a spot on Team Canada as the 7th defenceman for the Olympics.

I'm faster than you think for a big man, and my rock-solid, stay-at-home defensive credentials  . . . well, they're here somewhere.

And I can be the character guy in the room -- someone the younger players can turn to when life is cruel, or someone to fill their skates with shaving cream.

If you're listening Stevie Y, I'm in the book. Be bold. Make the call.

Sept 4, 2009

Michael Jackson was finally given a funeral yesterday, a mere two and half months after his passing.

I mention this only because I found a partial list of who attended the service as a little, um, eclectic. To be polite.

Perhaps the group pulled up at Los Angeles's Forest Lawn Cemetery in a Volkswagen and piled out, one after another like something from a vaudeville act. It would not have been out of place.

Among the attendees: Lisa Marie Presley. Al Sharpton. Barry Bonds. Corey Feldman. Macaulay Caulkin. Elizabeth Taylor. Gladys Knight (no Pips.) Chris Tucker.

Was Carrot Top busy?

Read more here, if you care at all, which honestly, I don't blame you if you don't.

- - -

As a parent, one of the great things about having active kids in sports is that like it or not, you get to meet all kinds of people. Not the kinds of people that would be likely to turn up at a dead, drug-addled pop-star funeral, necessarily, but lots of people nonetheless.

In my own case, it's safe to say that if it were not for my kids I'd have virtually no social life at all beyond my weekly ice dancing lessons with Hans and Fritz and my quarterly outings to show my hair brush collection at scrapbooking conventions.

I could name names, but frankly the litigation would be immense and time consuming (you honour, I reject any suggestion that I know him) so I won't.

But I -- we -- have forged some wonderful and enduring friendships with people we -- I -- met while drinking beer in a hallway at a Motel 8 in London in any given February over the last decade.

In some respects, it's kind of a Stockholm Syndrome thing, especially at rep levels where you had better get comfortable looking at the parental group because you're going to see a lot of one another. And you do.

You make friends, you become close with some of the parents and depending on circumstances, it plays out over years and you share the triumphs and heartbreaks -- deeply -- of not just your own kid, but everyone else's too.

I remember a dinner a couple of seasons ago in Lake Placid with a group of rep parents and the dads started piecing together where everyone played in paperweight and novice, trading stories and playing "remember when?"

I laughed so hard for two hours I could barely eat my meal.

The stuff that happens on the ice is all about the kids for sure, but the parental eco-system is a pretty important part of a great team dynamic and looking back, I have to say I've been lucky to be a part of some good ones.

Anyway, that's a really long-winded way to point you to a story in today's paper that says that having your kids play sports is good for the parents, too.

I think we knew that. But you can still read the story here.

- - -

ESPN fans will already know that columnist Bill Simmons is one of the funniest sports writers around. Well informed and armed with a terrific wit and turn-of-phrase, he's always a fun read.

Bill and his pals recently did a trip to Vegas to mark some milestone birthdays and well . . . did you see the summer movie The Hangover?

His trip was a lot like that.

When I was younger and more single, I would occasionally participate in such boys' weekends.

My new life motto -- "Nothing Good Can Come of This" followed by a smile-and-nod -- now happily pre-empts not only my participation in such things, but also my desire to do so. Before settling down I did my fair share of such things and I can tell you that standing penniless on a street in Boston's Combat Zone at 4a isn't really as much fun as it sounds, although one does learn to become resourceful in such situations.

As Dean Wormer famously said to John Belushi in the movie Animal House, "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son."

(Just as an aside, the old motto in those days was basically, How do you know you're having fun? If your mother would cry if she could see you, you're probably having fun.")

Anyway, Bill Simmons had quite a weekend in Vegas. And he wrote colourfully about it -- right here. It's a long read. Get a coffee.

- - -

It's the Friday before a long weekend. I don't have dancing Swedish twins for you today, but I do have something silly.

It's a web site growing fast in popularity and it's called People of Wal-Mart -- as in, some of the people you might meet at Wal-Mart.

Since I'm one of the people you might meet at Wal-Mart, I'm happy to laugh at the joke.

Others may be more politically correct, but that's their problem. The site is photos of various Wal-Mart shoppers. The odd American ones, mostly.

You can click here to visit the site.

- - -

The weather is supposed to be Tee-riffic this weekend, so I hope you get to enjoy it. I'll be painting Chris's room (the dinosaur motif had to go) but that won't take a lot of time. We already stripped wallpaper, did the crack filling and applied the primer, so we're halfway home and we didn't fight or argue even once (remember the motto -- Nothing Good Can Come of This, then smile and nod.)

I hope a lot of good comes your way this weekend. Stay safe. Have fun. Hug the kids.

Sept 3, 2009

I'm fairly sure I've told this story before, but when September arrives and the evening air turns crisp, I generally can't help recalling my first year as a minor hockey coach. It's what aging guys with scarred knees do.

It was a long time ago -- the fall of 1980 in the Nova Scotia port of Yarmouth, where I toiled for the Halifax Chronicle-Herald, mostly chronicling the ups and downs of the fishing industry.

Single and restless, I volunteered to coach minor hockey and was given a team of nine year olds. It's scary to think those kids are pushing 40 now, but life is funny.

Anyway, they were a game bunch and we laughed a lot.

That particular corner of Nova Scotia is heavily Acadian -- lots and lots of D'Eons and D'Entremonts and Doucets and Doucettes and . . .you get the idea. (If someone had the misfortune to ask for directions to the Acadian community of Pubnico, they would be subjected to an inquisition of geographic detail -- East Pubnico? West Pubnico? Lower East? Lower West? Upper? Good God man, I need more detail!!!")

Anyway, I digress.

Because of the Acadian communities, there were lots of francophone kids on my team.

And they all wore the same jersey to that first practice -- Montreal Canadiens, number 10, Guy Lafleur.

These were the days before minor hockey was the shark to which the remora of merchandising latched on to. There were no practice jerseys. No gear bags with team logos. No team jackets. No Oakville Ranger licence plate holders or pillow cases and dust ruffles.

So anyway, I'm standing in the middle of a small dressing room in a rink so old that it made venerable Oakville Arena look like the ACC in comparison. Hockey season couldn't start in Yarmouth until the outside temperature got low enough to give the artificial ice equipment some help.

The kids are nattering and excited. I'm shaking hands with parents and more than a little anxious, having never done this before. There were no coaching courses or mentoring programs in 1980. Just a vague instruction to show up at the rink at the appointed hour and Team Six was mine.

Then, one by one the kids peeled off their jackets and revealed the ugly truth of those Hab jerseys.

I was still wearing my own jacket and I clearly remember telling the boys "we have a problem."

They stopped nattering and looked at me, and I took off my coat, revealing my Toronto Maple Leafs jersey.

One little guy, whose face I remember quite vividly, looked at me and broke the silence, muttering "Ma goddam!"

That's a favourite Acadian exclamation of astonishment.

And then, everyone laughed.

My devotion to the Leafs was -- still is, actually -- a source of great personal torment, and fodder for those who like to torment me. They are legion in number.

The season unfolded without anything remarkable happening. Like I said, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

There were no house league tournaments to travel to, and Boston Pizza didn't exist (Yarmouth didn't even have a McDonald's then) so the team-building aspects around the game were not what they are now.

But still, we had fun.

And somewhere out there are a bunch of kids now pushing 40, hopefully getting excited about a new hockey season and heading to the rink with their sons and daughters. And maybe one or two of them still dine out on the story about the young guy from Halifax who dared wear a Leaf jersey in a room full of Guy Lafleurs.

I hope their kids laugh too, after someone explains who Guy Lafleur was.

- - -

Almost 17 years later, in Ottawa, I got my first taste of the OMHA's Initiation Program.

My first son was not yet four but desperately -- I mean, truly desperately -- wanted to play hockey. He did a year of "learn to skate" the previous winter. The Ottawa District Minor Hockey Association told me he was too young for them, but they said try Canterbury, on the city's east side. We did, and they said bring him out.

And on a very sunny September day in 1997, the day before his 4th birthday while his dad was in Toronto at a meeting, Pad hit the ice with a bunch of five and six year olds for an evaluation skate, where he was firmly in the middle of the pack. His mom took the camcorder and we still have the tape, which includes footage of the big guy asleep in the backseat of the car after the drive home.

Canterbury's IP program was basically the same in curriculum as the one MOHA introduced a few years later, but it had a major difference.

There were no teams, per se.

Each instructor (I was an assistant) was assigned a dozen or 14 skaters. Each skater was given a Timbits jersey -- our squad (and every other squad) had players with red, yellow, blue, black, green, etc. There was no single colour for each instructor's squad.

And every Saturday we'd take our squad to the small studio ice pad at a local rink and go through the drills. And every Sunday we'd hit the bigger ice and share a workout with another squad (or two, I can't remember) including scrimmages.

And then, three times during the year -- actual games. All the kids with blue jerseys would play together, all the kids with yellow, the same. On and on.

It was kind of neat. We'd spend a day playing mini games in a mini tournament structure and then the next week, the kids all returned to their Heinz 57 workout squads. I think I like the fixed-team structure better, but fun comes in all shapes and sizes.

And it was great fun -- hard to say if it was more fun for the kids or the coaches.

The guy I coached with then was the son of 67s coach Brian Kilrea, and Killer would come out to watch his twin grandsons play every Sunday morning. He never came in the dressing room, he just sat in the stands and watched.

We had a lot of fun that winter, and the next. We played in Canterbury until I transferred to Toronto the next fall.

Pad played his last game in Canterbury on the morning of Nov 1, 1998. After the game, we got in the car and drove to Oakville, where thanks to the hard work of people in the hockey office, a spot was waiting for him on a Paperweight Red house league team with a bunch of kids who were a year older than Pad, who had just turned five. (Paperweight was the forerunner to MOHA's IP program.)

A player on that team was moving away, and a vacancy was available for Patrick. MOHA moved heaven and Earth to get him a jersey (the departing boy took his with him, signed by all his teammates.)

If I live to be 100, I will never forget Coach Henry and how welcome he made Patrick feel on that Oakville team.

It was from Henry that I appropriated my now long-running player-of-the-game trophy (more another day on that trophy, know as The Festarini.)

And when Patrick eventually won Henry's award (everyone won it; every kid on the team got at least one week with the trophy) it was if he won Olympic gold.

"Dad, I always dreamed about getting that trophy but I never thought I would," he told me that night at bedtime.

And that's about as much reality check as any minor hockey parent needs. I learned a lot in a barn of a rink in Yarmouth, and in Canterbury with some wonderful people, and then in Oakville that first season with Henry. I like to think I continued to learn in the decade since on benches in Oakville.

Let the kids dream and have fun. And never underestimate either the size of those dreams or your own ability to help them come true. It's not IP to them; to them, it's a step away from the NHL.

Sept 20 is coming soon!

- - -

Sept 2, 2009

The sad, tragic Michael Bryant saga continues to unfold. You can find the story yourself -- it's hard to miss.

Others have made the comparison, but my brilliant and literate wife will tell you I said it first.

In our house, at least.

And that is, this whole thing rings a bit of Tom Wolfe's novel Bonfire of the Vanities.

Good book. It was fiction.

Sadly, this mess is all too real.

- - -

Meanwhile, you have to think the folks at OLG -- Ontario's gaming corporation -- are glad everyone is talking about something else.

The fascination this week with the provincial Crown corp's senior leadership's expenses had turned into blood sport.

Here's what I don't get, though.

The opposition and government, too, are getting their Hansards in a knot over things like a $300 health club membership which would, I can only surmise, be a bare minimum in terms of a perk to attract top talent from the private sector to a Crown corporation.

Or what about the guy who was reimbursed $1000 for a vacation deposit because his boss cancelled his vacation. To me, that only seems fair. Maybe I'm nuts.

Now, there are plenty of dumb things too -- babysitting charges, penny-ante crap like 75 cent parking receipts, and other day-to-day incidentals which in my view have no place on an expense account. I chew gum in downtown Toronto. If I travel on business and chew gum in Ottawa, I don't bill my employer for it.

Apparently, a lot of OLG folks do.

My moral barometer for this sort of thing -- again, my wife -- expressed her exasperation with the coverage even before I raised it with her.

Another sounding board -- with 20 years of experience around Bay Street and political corridors of power -- validated my feeling that it's not the health club fees people get annoyed with, it's the small stuff that will kill you every time. Like billing taxpayers for chocolate bars.

The eHealth debacle was one thing. This is really quite another.

But you know what sharks do when there's blood in the water.

Anyway, a Star columnist took a more rationale (in my view) approach to the OLG thing. Read more here. It's quite enlightening.

- - -

Because it's Wednesday and the long weekend still feels a long way off, a treat today for you..

Swedish twins, dancing in front of a room full of men..

Yeah, yeah. Give me grief.

But I can tell from the traffic patterns how much you love those links to Jennifer Aniston and Megan Fox.

So Swedish twins? Save the tut-tutting for the convener's meeting. You know you waaaaaant it.

Click here to watch the twins at the stag party.

And enjoy the rest of your day!

Sept 1, 2009

Heading back to work on Monday was a culture shock. On the one hand, I was more than ready to return -- I felt rested, fresh, and my head was clear.

On the other hand, it is very difficult to recalibrate your brain to King and Yonge when a few days ago you were on a deserted beach in one of the most clean and beautiful spots on Earth.

But, without the culture shock of Toronto, Ingonish wouldn't have anything to contrast itself against. It's why darkness needs the light, and vice versa.

The boys are still sleeping late -- one back at the gym and working hard at pre-season hockey training, the other just enjoying the waning days of summer vacation and the sense of freedom that only 12 year olds can truly know.

Mom and I are back at work. The grim headlines remind us were back in Toronto.

- - -

The saddest headline of the day may well be the case of an altercation between a Toronto driver and a cyclist. These stories come in waves and they never seem to end well.

I will confess that when I drive my car, I tend to loath cyclists. When on a bike, I tend to loath cars. As someone said on the radio this morning, I'd be what you'd call an equal-opportunity hater.

But I have trouble imagining a situation reaching the point where me or someone else ends up dead.

But that's what happened last night in downtown Toronto. A former provincial attorney general is in custody. It is all beyond comprehension.

One minute, you're running to the store for bread, or going to dinner, or taking a ride on a nice evening. Minutes later, something stupid happens, things are said, it escalates and someone dies. In a couple of minutes, lives are changed forever.

Read more here.

And let the other guy have the 10 feet of pavement in front of you if he wants it. Who cares?

- - -

There's so much going on in hockey boardrooms these days that perhaps TSN and Sportsnet will mercifully stop broadcasting poker and start carrying sports politics instead.

But I doubt it.

The NHL players union fires its top staffer.

The Leafs flex their considerable financial muscle, with the belief they have a veto over any team (AKA Jim from RIM) entering southern Ontario.

One of Tampa Bay's owners gets raked by an auditor over a business venture out west.

On and on.

Don't you love sports? This is why they play the games, right?

Right?

- - -

Closer to home, Team Ontario lost 11-7 in overtime to Team Iroquois in Brampton on Sunday in the final of the Canadian midget box lacrosse championship.

I wish I could have seen the game, both to cheer on our friend Tyler Albrecht and his Team Ontario teammates, and to simply see some very high-end lacrosse being played.

When I saw Johnny Powless was the tournament MVP I just smiled.

How many guys named Powless have played big in important lacrosse games in Ontario in the last 50 years?

A lot. That's how many.

Congratulations to both teams. It sounds like it was a barn burner.

- - -

I took Pad and Chris shopping for new sneakers on Sunday instead.

We called them sneakers when I was a kid. Now they are cross trainers and board shoes and . . . I dunno.

All I know is that it was a life draining experience. Too big. Too small. Wrong colour.

I think it would have gone faster if I'd have taken their grandmothers out for new shoes.

OK, OK. I kid. They hate shopping more than me but we all agreed to hold our noses and get through it.

And now it's done.

Honestly, I'm surprised Laura put me in charge of the project.

- - -

Minor hockey season is right around the corner and things are starting to get busy as my friend Adele has recruited me and Dave Santangeli to be development coordinators for the MOHA Initiation Program. Adele is the boss, we're her minions and our title actually means "guys who will spend a lot of time putting up and taking down the boards."

Those of you who have been through the IP experience will get the joke; those of you who will be new to it will stop smiling shortly.

Dave and I coached together in the inaugural MOHA IP season -- I think it was 2002? -- with the program under the very able guidance then of John Butler and Wayne Moorehead. We coached the legendary Big Blue Machine. I'm not sure how many games we won (we did actually win our division at the Erindale Pre-Atom Tournament that spring) but my notes say we led the league in fun.

I always joked to John that when my kids were big enough and ugly enough, I would come back and start over with IP, which honestly was so much fun it's hard to explain. That time has come.

For all the manuals and drills and guidelines and whatnot, which are all terrific, the overriding priority for us will be to make sure the kids have so much fun their faces will hurt from smiling.

And that's what we're looking for from the experience, too.

In a decade in and around hockey in Oakville, Dave and I have seen and learned a lot. We've seen rep. We've seen house league. We've won championship games. We've lost championship games. We've done tournaments in blizzards and stood outside locked rinks at 5:30a waiting for the guy with the keys who slept in. We've done carpools. We've done the paperwork and got the permits and jumped through the hoops. We've talked the irate parents down from the tree; we've dealt with the kid in the dressing room who didn't think he wanted to play. We've spent entire afternoons at Boston Pizza or similar between games. We've won and lost in overtime. We've won and lost shootouts. We can quote passages from the OMHA Manual of Operations. We've been coaches, assistant coaches, trainers, managers, holistic counselors, parent ombudsmen, and served on the United Nations Security Council.

But the only thing that will matter come Sept 20, when those kids hit the ice for their evaluations, is that we and the other volunteers make sure the kids have fun and learn, in that order.

I'm really looking forward to it.

The mind boggles at the blogging and photo opportunities.

- - -

One of the things I didn't miss while I was in Cape Breton was (three guesses?) GO Transit.

Periodically, I'd pick up my Blackberry from the table on the deck, the phone's little red light blinking as it does when a new message would come in.

More often than not, it was an automated email from GO Transit, alerting me to a train delay on the Lakeshore West line.

It got to be a joke and I wouldn't even look -- we'd see it blinking and someone would simply say "GO Train delay."

Usually, they were right. Below is but a small sample of that traffic.

But, it's still good to be back.