Me: Feeling good today, very confident!

Me: You’re right, my Mindful Meditation session did go really well!

Me: Meditated the shit out of it! I was fucking Deerpark Chopra!

Me: No, I think it is Deerpark.

Me: Really?

Me: Deepak? That doesn’t sound like a name at all, more like a company that makes boxes or something.

Me: I don’t believe you.

Me: I’m going to look it up.

Me: Okay.

Me: Yes.

Me: I guess it is kind of amusing that I could get the last name right but still butcher the first name in such a “child-like” and “ challenged” way.

Me: I’m still going to call him Deerpark though.

Me: No, not stubborn, whimsical and playful. Like an otter.

Me: I also went to my first lymphatic massage session!

Me: Well, they tap your face.

Me: And yeah, that drains your lymph glands. Yes, by tapping.

Me: $200

Me: No, they didn’t wear diamond-encrusted gloves while doing the tapping.

Me: No, it wasn’t a topless lymphatic massage, either.

Me: Well, the happy ending is that my lymph glands are draining!

Me: I thought your insurance covered it!

Me: Fuck.

Me: Well, there are only 7 more sessions.

Me: Look, having drained lymph glands is important.

Me: At least as important as your “Power Skating” classes with Pierre. I mean, 3 times a week??

Me: I don’t trust Pierre, don’t believe he played in the NHL.

Me: Also don’t like the way you laugh around him.

Me: No, of course I trust you, my love.

Me: I’m at the Dark Horse Café now.

Me: Decaffeinated green tea, gangster style.

Me: Nowhere to sit in here.

Me: Woman says she’s holding last chair for a friend.

Me: Says she will be there in 5 minutes.

Me: Dazzling smile. Entirely distracting. Have forgotten why I was talking to her.

Me: I wish she did lymphatic massage.

Me: I’ll send you a picture.

Me: Really? Creepy and inappropriate?

Me:  On every level? Really?

Me: You’re really weird, you know that?

Me: Okay, 12 minutes have passed now and her friend still hasn’t shown up. I’m going to say something.

Me: I wonder if she’s a model?

Me: Okay, it’s been over 20 minutes! I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!

Me: Her beauty doesn’t entitle her to anything!

Me: You’re right, she is exactly like that Leprechaun guy on the TTC!!

Me: Only radiant and if the Leprechaun were made out of sunlight.

Me: Like Pierre, you said he’s made of light, and what did you say, “thigh muscles,” didn’t you?

Me: I WILL SAY SOMETHING!

Me: I AM NOT A SLAVE TO BEAUTY!

Me: (Except yours, my love)

Me: Ok, here I go.

Me: Losing my resolve. Think it’s melting. Standing with tea is fine.

Me: Hemingway wrote standing up.

Me: Her laptop bag deserves seat in crowded coffee shop.

Me: Laptop bag like a holy relic.

Me: Friend just floated in like a beautiful perfume.

Me: Think Pierre emerging from a spray of ice chips.

Me: Such beauty, should be a cover charge here.

Me: They are now talking together, as angels do.

Me: All is sunlight.

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.

1. Chances that an American athlete would break down a door in the Olympic Village 7-1.

I considered this bet to be easy money. We all know that athletes are competitive, and none more so than entitled, overfunded American ones who really like to get their party on. Combining this personality type with the decrepit state of Russian infrastructure and the rage associated with steroids and steroid-masking technologies, it was almost a guarantee that a door would be smashed in. I bet $700 on this, and when Johnny Quinn, an American bobsledder and ex NFL player, broke naked through his poorly functioning bathroom door in the athlete’s village, I was a winner.

Result= +$4900

2. Who would win the gold medal at men’s skeleton in Sochi?

I was on the Lisgar Collegiate Institute boys’ skeleton team in high school, and I can tell you participation in that sport is an insane death wish—you fly face-first down an ice cliff on a bladed Krazy Karpet using your toes to steer. (It should go without saying that high school was a VERY difficult time for me, a time made even more painful by the ceaseless bombardment of snowballs I endured whenever I took sliding to the track.) Gambling on this sport is like playing the lottery, as none of the martyr/athletes really has any influence on the outcome. That being said, it would have been wise to pick a Russian, as it’s common for officials to heat the track to make it slow and sluggish after the Russians have competed. However, the odds on handsome Spaniard Amber Mirambell (300-1!!) proved too enticing and I bet $500 on him for gold.

Result= – $500

3. Over/under for deaths in short-track speed skating (including relay): 7

I felt very compromised betting on this as I abhor the idea of rooting for anybody’s misfortune, but it seems clear that there would be way more than seven deaths in this sport. Honestly, I think there could be seven deaths in just one race. It’s Roller Derby with knives, practically a Slasher film. I bet $1300 on the over.

Result= – $1300

4. Olympic Sex Tape

Given that the matchmaking app Tinder was the breakout star of the Sochi games, it was speculated that it would be the first Olympics that featured a leaked sex tape.

Odds that a sex tape will surface: 3-1

Odds that the Russian men’s ice hockey team will be involved in the sex tape: 1-1

Odds that the Jamaican bobsled team will be in the sex tape: 9-1

Odds that the sex tape will be of a homosexual nature: 50-1

Odds that the sex tape will include any of the mascots from the Opening Ceremonies: 50-1

Odds that an ice-dance duo will be in the sex tape: 200-1

I bet $3000 that there will be a sex tape and placed $250 on each of the sub-options. Fingers crossed.

Result= – $4500

6. Odds that there will be a biathlon shooting accident involving a homosexual: 25-1

I could see that getting certified proof that the accident victim was an actual homosexual was going to be a bureaucratic nightmare, so I just avoided this bet altogether.

Result= Even

7. Odds that America, in the corporate form of Sports Illustrated, would attempt to upstage the Olympics by featuring Kate Upton in a bikini, floating about in a zero-gravity plane, as their feature story instead of, say, sports: 7-1

You simply cannot bet against America being America, and so I wagered $200 on the model in a zero gravity plane.

Result= + $1400.00

Total= Even

The statue should distill the essence of the Toronto Maple Leafs and their relationship to their fans. Here are some suggestions:

1.  Fans in Maple Leaf jerseys with brown paper bags over their heads, as was the custom in the rink during the years when Harold Ballard owned the team.

2. Like the famous pop art LOVE statue in New York City, the words:

“APPALING INSULTING TRADES”

would stand like an unfixable reminder  outside of the arena.

3. Toronto Mayor Rob Ford, drunk and wearing a Maple Leaf jersey, being thrown-out of a game by security after he told a woman sitting behind him that she should “ Go to Iran and get raped and shot.” (This story would be engraved on the base of the statue.) The mayor, who is off-balance and holding up a  “We’re number one,” foam finger on his hand, would have a proud and defiant look on his face, while behind him stands a stern, no-fun looking woman (very plain) wearing a Hajib as security drags him out.

4. Beloved Leaf goon Tie Domi, with a homicidal look on his face, holding his hockey stick above his head as if a chainsaw that he’s about to use to cut through the flesh of his opponent. (Probably cowering European victim)

5. A really long-line up to the washroom, with the faces of the people waiting expressing irritation, desperation and sadness.

6. Another pop art rendering, this would be a statue of Lanny Macdonald’s mustache from his glory days in the 70’s.

7. The Muskoka 5—This was the name given to a group of veteran players  (Mats Sundin, Tomas Kaberle, Darcy Tucker, Bryan McCabe and Pavel Kubina) who would not waive their no trade clauses, the theory being that they were too comfortable and would rather play out the season without fighting for the play-offs, and then spending the off-season at their luxury cottages in the Muskoka region. These players would be honoured with statues, one on a Jet Ski, one smiling on the golf course, two drinking beer on a dock together and the final one with his arm around a sexy woman in a bikini who is not his wife.

8. Brian Burke, cantankerous former President and GM of the Toronto Maple Leafs, screaming at members of a cowering media.

9. Eric Lindros looking vulnerable, confused and beaten.

10. A number of fans, of the Bro variety, many without shirts and painted blue, with expressions of despair, disbelief and profound sorrow as the Leafs coughed up a three goal lead to the Boston Bruins in the 7^th game of the play-off series with only a few minutes left to go.

With a proven track record stretching over millennia, He can show you how to make money! All you have to do is subscribe to His Twitter feed @TheLordIsAMoneyMaker and you will receive up to the date financial advice from the undisputed leader in the industry.

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@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Your death is certain! It is best you get your finances in order now!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: There is but one true God! And he knows money!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: The name of the game: To reap where you did not sow and gather where you scattered no seed.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Do not tip your slaves with cash or jewelry, and always remember your tithe.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: “D” is for discipline in spending, not debt! The fires will consume those in debt!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: The Lord himself created the real estate bubble and cannot recommend it to the first time buyer.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Looking for a rock solid investment? http://ow.ly/rS30v

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Shopify’s naked ambition displeases the Lord almighty! They fly too high! Sell!!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Avoid investing in companies that make contraceptives, conduct embryonic stem-cell research or contribute corporate funds to Planned Parenthood, for I will smite them!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Give portions to seven, yes to eight, for you do not know what disaster may come upon the land.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: The Lord is displeased with China, invest in America, for she is the favourite amongst my nation children!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Bearish on Bitcoins. Sign of the End Times. Proceed with caution.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Grow your emergency funds. Prepare don’t predict. Soon fire and pestilence will cover the lands!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: My son did many great things with his life, but financial planning was not one of them. Don’t you make the same mistakes he did!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Take the New York Rangers over the Winnipeg Jets by two.

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker:  Waste not thy fortune on harlots and drink!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Sufficient nutrition will soon be scarce, Hormel Food Corp will prove an appetizing investment!

@TheLordIsAMoneyMaker: Worship no other God but I, for I am THE money maker.

“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.”

At any rate, at this reading I brought a guest book and asked all of the attendees to please leave a comment critiquing my work so that I might work on improving  my performance.

These are the comments that were left:

1.You are easily the bravest person that I have ever met.

2.Funny??

3. I used to be very nervous speaking in public, too. When my friend Sandra was getting married and asked me to be Maid of Honour I was terrified. Honestly, I could not imagine standing up in front of all those people and speaking, so I really know how you must have been feeling! My heart went out to you, and that heckler, even though he did get off some good ones, was way out of line. So what if you look better in ladies jeans? It doesn’t mean you’re not a man! Anyway, what worked for me and might work for you is signing up with Toastmasters, it’s like a crash course in confidence! Anyhow, better luck next time!

4. Really appreciated the open bar, but why only from 8:00 to 8:30?

5. Your teeth are very distracting. I couldn’t stop looking at them and didn’t hear a word you said. You should really look into getting veneers.

6. Wasn’t expecting the Karaoke, never heard such a plaintive version of Working 9 to 5, so thanks for that, sort of. I thought you were pretty funny. I’m not sure exactly what it is you’re aiming for, but it’s a very disquieting stage presence you have. Interesting.

7. Jesus, Mike. Didn’t you learn your lesson at Mark and Julia’s wedding?

8. I couldn’t hear you. You have a thin and raspy voice and I think you might have asthma. You need to stand up straighter if you want to speak into the microphone.

9. Oh, Michael.

10. First of all, your fly was undone and you had what looked like (I hope) toothpaste stains on both your sweater and shoe. I know that people who get stage fright are told to imagine the audience in their underwear, but you went creepy overboard! I actually saw you licking your lips at one point when a college student bent down to pick-up some change she’d dropped. Gross!! Also, your feelings about the Olympics and 9/11 Conspiracy theories were not welcome– you were like the sleazy, drunk uncle at Thanksgiving dinner.

As I’m not much of a gambler, I was just standing around watching some low stakes cards at a poker table. It was more like an Ex for people with addictions than it was a James Bond film–mindlessly repetitive, ugly in an everyday way and tinged with a bit of desperation. I just stood there hoping not to look too conspicuously like an Out-Of-Towner-Who-Is-A-Little-Scared-Of-Your-City.

After a moment or two a black man in a flashy sweater approached me.

Man: I got to say, that hat really looks good on you.

Me: Thanks, I love it.

The man then shook his head and put his hands on his hips.

Man: No, I don’t much compliment men, so this doesn’t come easy to me, but you really own that hat, man!

Me: Well, I like your sweater!

As I was saying this I sent a text to Rachelle:

Text to Rachelle: The Detroit Brothers really dig my style.

Man: You got some confidence to dress like that, boss!

Me: Well, my wife picked it out for me. She’s a designer– good at hockey, too.

Man: Your lady plays hockey?

Me: She has a wicked shot, great power forward.

Man: You Canadians and you’re hockey, man!

Text from Rachelle: Who are the Detroit Brothers?

Text to Rachelle: Black people!!!

As fate would have it the wife of the guy who liked my hat was sitting at the table right in front of us. She was pulling crumpled ones and fives out of her purse and handing them to the dealer. She turned and faced her husband with a look of surprise on her face.

Wife: Where you been at? I haven’t seen you in 10 hours, don’t you think its right that you come and check on me, maybe be bring me a drink or something?”

Man: (Looking incredulous and spinning around to include me in the conversation.) Where have I been? Where have you been at?! If you’re asking me where I’ve been for the last ten hours, then shouldn’t I be asking you the same question? (Directly to me) Can you believe it?

Me: Don’t get me involved.

Text from Rachelle: What are you doing? Stop it!

Wife: You shouldn’t just be leaving me alone all night. You never know what’s going happen. I’m special.

Man: I can be damn sure you ain’t gonna win nothing.

Text to Rachelle: I’m mediating a domestic dispute at a poker table.

His wife gave her husband the finger and then she sucked it.

Text from Rachelle: Did you just say to them the truth isn’t two-sided, it’s round?

Text from Me: Yes, but I added nigga.’

Me: Well, as they say, the truth isn’t two-sided, it’s round.

Wife: (Looking directly at me in that way) Have you been hitting the pipe? You got crack teeth, I can see that, so you best be minding your own business. I’m trying to play here, understand?

Man: You see what she’s like?

Me: (To woman) My teeth are like this because of chemotherapy, not crack, okay?

Text from Rachelle: Pickle, I’d really like it if you left the casino now and came to the hotel room.

Wife: I don’t care what they from, they be NASTY.

Man: (Facing his wife) You know what’s nasty, you’re nasty!

She looked at him, put her cards down on the table and stood up.

Wife: Oh no you didn’t.

The man waved her off and walked away, and I decided, as Rachelle had suggested, to just return to the hotel room, where for reasons I still don’t quite understand, I told her that I had won $85.

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.