In it, I am wearing a costume that is clearly racist and offensive.

This picture was taken from a Christmas Assembly at Lisgar Collegiate in Ottawa, Ontario, and I was performing a rap as an “urban Santa.” Although I was not in black face as some have asserted, my family and I had just returned from a vacation in Hawaii and I had a very uncharacteristic tan. I am deeply apologetic for that triggering tan, the privilege that implies, and for my blatant cultural appropriation.

It is also true that I wrote, “I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A CRAZY CRUSH ON YOU!! in Marie-Therese Vitzhum’s yearbook in 1983. I am deeply embarrassed by my insensitivity to my brothers and sisters who struggle with mental illness. After finishing in the bottom third of the standings in a fantasy hockey league two years ago, I, too, fell into a depression, so I need you to know you have an ally in Michael Murray, not an enemy.

I love you.
I hear you.
And I am listening.

These past behaviours of mine are not in keeping with who I am today or the values I have fought for throughout my career as Commissioner of the Dirty Pigeon Fantasy Hockey League. I want to offer my sincerest apology, and to state my absolute commitment to living up to the expectations the Dirty Pigeon Fantasy Hockey Community set for me when you elected me Commissioner. I understand why your faith in me has been shaken, and I recognize that it will take time and serious effort to heal the damage this conduct has caused.

I am ready to do that important work.

Humbled and grateful for this teachable moment.

Your fantasy hockey Commissioner,

Michael Murray

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/toronto-tunnel-dug-by-2-men-as-man-cave-police-say-1.2978109

Ever since I was asked to leave my UFO Watchers club and Fantasy Hockey League, I’ve been kind of lost and having a really hard time filling my days. My wife Rachelle suggested that instead of just lying around watching Friends on Netflix all day, I get a hobby, and so I did.

Tunnel Diary: Day 1

The best thing about my Hobby Tunnel is that it really puts me in touch with nature. It’s really going to be more of a “Fun-nel” than a tunnel! It’s so nice being alone in the forest with my shovel. The trees are my friends and I think digging a hole in the middle of the woods is an absolutely great hobby! I mean, it’s fantastic exercise and inexpensive! And I’m not scared, cold or lonely at all. Nope, my mind never wanders to worst-case scenarios, and I doubt very much that the curious assemblage of twigs, branches, dismembered dolls and a candle over there has anything to do with satanic ritual. The wind probably just blew it there like that so it’s reaching out to me like a message, not an accident. Nature sure is funny!

Tomorrow I will bring my iPod.

Reminder: Make digging play list.

Tunnel Diary: Day 2

Bringing the dog with me as company and protection was an excellent idea. It’s nice to be able to spend some quality time with her and watch her do something that she really loves. It’s true, Dachshunds are amazing diggers and she’s scared away at least two squirrels! Good dog, Heidi, good dog!

It’s funny though, whenever she goes near the dead doll shrine at the big oak she starts to whimper. Actually, looks like there’s a new disfigured doll over there today, one with a little pet dog doll.

Reminder: Research satanic rituals and voodoo.

Tunnel Diary: Day 9

All I think about is the tunnel, about how when it’s done it will be exactly like a long, narrow grave for many squirrels. How many squirrels? That’s a good question. Maybe 300, but it depends on the squirrels.

The trees have voices. My iPod cannot drown out the tree voices. Some trees like to share bad thoughts.

Tunnel Diary: Day 18

Today I killed a squirrel that strayed too far into our territory. It was a cleansing. I suffocated it with a zip lock baggie I had left over after my snack. (All the shoveling and tunneling really works up an appetite) In the wild you must learn to use anything you can to defend yourself and complete your mission. My grave tunnel will fit 666 of such purified squirrels, the exact number the trees require, and then the mission shall come to darkness.

Reminder: Remember to pick up tetra pack of white wine for tonight’s Game’s Night.

Day 1:

I am grateful that we are wealthy enough to hire a house cleaner.

I am grateful that Albina, our house cleaner, always changes from her street clothes into her work clothes in the living room. It’s provocative and edgy. It doesn’t matter what she looks like, it just shakes up the day, you know?

I am grateful for sharks, as they have starred in a lot of cool movies and television programming.

Day 2:

I am grateful that it is now socially acceptable for a man to carry a “murse” and not have to sit on his wallet all day. Sitting on a wallet is like having to sit on a Club Sandwich all day.

I am grateful that I am very athletic and am not a nerd.

I am grateful for the invention of yoga pants.

Day 3:

I am grateful for the TV show Nashville, which is fucking awesome.

I am grateful that I don’t have to read very much for my job.

I am grateful that we don’t live with a ghost in our apartment, that would really dampen the quality of our life, I think.

Day 4:

I am grateful that I am wealthy enough to buy prestigious clothes and look really good when I go out.

I am grateful that I am really, really popular, as I was in high school.

I am grateful for the good governance and fiscal responsibility that guides Canada as a nation.

Day 5:

I am grateful for the beautiful autumn leaves.

I am grateful that BB King is my uncle. I have learned a lot from him.

I am grateful for heating pads.

Day 6:

I am grateful for unexpected Scratch N’ Win victories!

I am grateful that the LCBO is just down the street.

I am grateful that none of my erotic selfies have been leaked to the public.

Day 7:

All praise and love to Jesus, our LORD and SAVIOUR! I am grateful to him for the abundant gifts he has given me. PRAISE!!

I am grateful for celebrities.

I am grateful for peanuts, particularly dry roasted peanuts.

It’s long been a dream of mine to play professional hockey, and this is a goal I’ve worked very hard to achieve. Unfortunately, I’ve never been quite good enough to make the grade, and as the years pass by my chances of making the NHL are rapidly diminishing. In an effort to remind the NHL GM’s and coaches who might still be looking for a character guy in the locker room, of just how committed I am to this dream, I am providing a short list of some of the things I’m willing to do to fulfill my dream of playing in the NHL.

I am perfectly willing to serve as a shutdown, 4^th line centre, instead of the natural, 1^st line scorer I am, if it gets me into the NHL faster.

I will continue with my figure skating lessons, trying to improve my balance and explosiveness on the ice in order to make me a better team player.

I would not hesitate to drop the gloves.

I will cut back on my shifts at David’s Tea in order to train more.

I would consent to wearing a suit and tie to and from the rink for every game.

I would kill a bird with a rock.

I would be willing to relocate.

If necessary, I would subordinate my natural leadership skills in order to better serve the team.

I will say no to hanging out with friends and going out to parties because I know I have to be up early the next morning to train.

I would have sex with Tom Hardy– even though I’m not gay or even remotely curious about what being gay might feel like– in order to prove how serious I am about playing in the NHL.

I would also have sex with Tom Hardy and Daniel Craig– even though I’m not gay or even remotely curious to know what it might feel like to be gay with two other stunning and sexy men– in order to prove how serious I am about playing in the NHL.

I would give up my participation in fantasy hockey in order to protect the integrity of the NHL and the great game of hockey.

I would take up hunting in order to better fit in with my peers.

I would consider giving up gluten.

I would also consider giving up Choir! Choir! Choir! in order to more fully dedicate myself to my dream of playing in the NHL.

“In 1986 I lived in Montreal for my first year at university, and I listened to every single Canadiens games on the radio. They weren’t really a great team, but they won the cup that year, largely because of Patrick Roy, who was unbeatable. But my favourite player was Chris Nilan, the goon on the team. Nobody wanted to win more and he would do anything, absolutely anything for the team. And when he was on the ice you knew it was going to be okay. Even if you lost, you still knew it was going to be okay, that somehow you still won. It reassuring, a defiantly optimistic kind of feeling and it gave me confidence, something I probably really needed being away from home for the first time.“

“My wife recently got into hockey and one night a week she would play shinny with a bunch of other women at an outdoor rink. Sometimes I took the dog out to play fetch and watch. I remember how beautiful and quiet it was out there. The acoustics in the winter are so soft and different, almost as if isolated and then put in slow motion. There was nothing but the sound of the game—the blades on the ice, the sticks on the puck and the players breathing, shouting to one another… The spirit of the games were so gentle and cooperative, too, everybody actually on the same side, sharing with one another something they loved. And I would be there off in the distance, the dog running after the ball, so happy to be bounding through the snow, and it all just felt so pure and lovely. Those moments were poems.”

“I don’t have any association with it. I never played as a kid because we were too poor, and now, after the car accident, I’m never going to have the chance. I live on the street now. My body’s been ruined, look at this, I’m in constant pain and I can’t work. My shoulder dislocates when I’m sleeping and I wake up screaming. I don’t know if I’m crazy or not, you know? And whadda ya the doctors give me for the pain? Methadone. And you know what it does for me? It makes my dick soft, so no, I don’t think nothing when you say hockey.”

“When I was ten my father would do up my skates before each game. He laced them tighter than I ever could, and it felt like getting tucked into bed, only a kind of opposite. And then after the game he would buy me an Orange Fanta and to this day whenever I have one I am instantly transported back in time, to the smell of that rink and the permanence of my father’s understated love.”

As many of you know, Rob and I were enrolled at Carleton University in Ottawa at the same time, and it was at a local pub—Tiddlers—where we became last call drinking acquaintances.  We’ve stayed in a weird contact over the years, frequently messaging one another when up late and partying alone. This is my most recent correspondence with the mayor, which took place sometime after two in the morning on Wednesday.

Rob: FORD NATION KNOCKING!!!

Me: Rob!!

Rob: BRAIN ON FIRE! All sorts of ideas!! Need quick feedback!!

Me:  You always make me feel like I’m on a game show, love it!

Rob: The Quebec charter of values thing, you know, where the French people say you’re not allowed to wear the jew hat and stuff? I like it.

Me: If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything!

Rob: Damn straight! I’m free market, not going to tell people what they can’t do, but if you live in Ford Nation, you’re going to have to walk the walk, get it? If you have to be a weirdo and ride a bicycle, then you have to wear an Argo’s jersey when you do it.

Me: It’s brilliant, Rob, it can’t miss! What happens if you’re culturally un-Ford Nation and exploit a public resource like a library?

Rob: You got to see Iron Man III and eat a Cronut burger.

Me: And then wear the t-shirt, “ I survived the Cronut Burger! Ford For Mayor 2014!”

Rob: Yeah!! Ford Nation: Not as diverse as you’d think.

Me: How about, Ford Nation: Strength in Unity?

Rob: Love it!!! Man, you really GET the heart of Ford Nation! I miss having these late night jam sessions in person!

Me: Me, too, big guy, me, too.

Rob: Know what else I miss?

Me: Tiddlers!

Rob: Tiddlers RULZ!!!!! But dude, I miss Frosh Week. I could fucken live in Frosh Week. I would take my vacations there if I could. Fuck Florida!!

Me: Frosh Week was awesome. But look, what happens to vegans? They’re not Ford Nation at all.

Rob: If you want to be vegan and live in Ford Nation, then you have to be a stripper once a week, too. Don’t care about their religion. Chicks only, tho.

Me: What if somebody isn’t a man of the people? You know, not the type to go to visit people in public housing and put campaign stickers on their door frames?

Rob: Oh! Just got another idea!

Me: Great!

Rob: My fantasy hockey team?

Me: Yeah?

Rob: Gonna call it, Everybody’s Twerking For The Weekend! After the Loverboy song!

Me: Genius.

Rob: Honest, I think it’s the best thing I ever thought of.

Me: Me, too.

Rob: Hey, you see those pictures of that bear chasing the bison down the highway?

Me: Yeah.

Rob: You the bear or the bison?

Me: Not sure. You?

Rob: Both, little buddy, both.

Ondrej Pavlec

Goaltender, Winnipeg Jets

Ondrej:

Lay off the fucking booze and hookers!

Or at least wait until the off-season.

Christ, you couldn’t stop one of those giant Earth Ball things all year, and it was clear that you played every game over-sexed and hung-over. You might be able to get away with that sort of shit in Mother Russia, but not here. Got it, Ivan?

And stop hanging out with Mickey Rourke, he’s a bad influence.

Your owner,

Michael Murray

Adam Henrique

Center, New Jersey Devils

Adam:

It’s hard for me to imagine what a disappointment to your family you must be. You had 5 assists all season. I could get 5 assists in just one period, and I wear glasses. You’re a disgrace. You don’t belong on a Fantasy Team, you belong on a Nightmare Team.

Your owner,

Michael Murray

Zack Kassian

Right Wing, Vancouver Canucks

Zack:

You are such a douche.

You’ll probably whine, moaning that you’re still only 22, but your built like a fucking Bigfoot and if you don’t have the talent to play with real men, then you have to use your size and primitive, douche instincts to their greatest advantage! You have to intimidate and beat-up your opponents!! It’s called “making space” for your teammates. Stop being such a pussy. You don’t deserve the nickname “The Kassassian,” you deserve the nickname “The Kack Factor.”

Your owner,

Michael Murray

Ilya Kovalchuk

Left wing, New Jersey Devils

Ilya:

That was the worst season of your career.

Thanks a lot.

I hate you.

You are not welcome in the city of Toronto.

Your last name sounds like the noise I make while looking at your final numbers and throwing-up.

Your owner,

Michael Murray

Eric Cole

Left wing, Dallas Stars

Eric:

Why didn’t you retire?

Your performance was worse than useless all season long.

You’re ugly and I hope your post-career car dealership goes bankrupt.

Your owner,

Michael Murray

Dustin Brown:

I don’t really have, uh, words to explain how I’m feeling right now. Again, uh, you know, to be the first King to touch that cup is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life.”

Anze Kopitar:

It feels great to bring 20, 000 people to their feet just by lifting a silver jug over your head. It’s a very humbling feeling and pretty exciting, like getting drunk with your father for the first time. Good, dizzy feeling!

Jonathan Quick:

Unbelievable. I don’t think it’s kicked in yet. It’s just awesome. I don’t even think I can tell you in words. I don’t know, I guess it’s kind of like that feeling you get when you’re running away from the cops, you know, and at a certain point, after you’re really exhausted and you think you’re done and headed to jail, you realize you’ve lost ‘em and you’re free. Yeah, that’s it.

Drew Doughty:

It’s so weird, man, but it feels completely like being high. Oh man, like, I probably shouldn’t have said that but I’m from the west coast. Represent! But all these people screaming, it’s just a trip, a crazy, perfect trip!

Slava Voynov:

I remember as a young boy I was dared by some older boys to shoplift something from the corner store. I was very scared to do so, but I was also very scared to not do so, and so I knotted myself into courage and took some gum and slipped it in my pocket and walked out of the store. It was incredible feeling, like breaking pane of glass with rock! All the other boys now looked at me with respect and I felt like I had become a man, an Alpha, and that is what it feels like to win the cup! (And then he roared.)

Willie Mitchell:

How does it feel? It feels like being a king, like signing my first multi-year contract!!!

Rob Scuderi:

I don’t know what to say, I just feel so bad for the Devils, because I know that they really, really tried hard.  I just don’t feel much like celebrating. They must all feel so lonely, so lost…I’m sorry– I’m just feeling a little emotional right now.

Mike Richards:

This is incredible. You dream about it a million times, but then for it to finally happen, I mean, wow, just fucking wow.

Jarret Stoll:

It’s awesome, just awesome, like when the Vicodin sets in, you know?

Andrei Loktionov:

It’s like crazy Russian sex with tennis star. Like that one time, when we used the animal masks, before she got famous.