On Wednesday night, The Jesus Cobras lost by a score of 8 to 7, to The Enforcers, a team full of guys who buy celebrity sex tapes and listen to Nickleback. This was the second game of our floor hockey season, and it was a bitter disappointment to me that our team lost. First of all, it was clear that several of The Enforcers were not “beginners,” as the Toronto Central Sport and Social Club Co-Ed league rules stipulates. Our team is made up of Asian designers, screechy gay men, UFO enthusiasts and a food critic, whereas the dude in the New Jersey Devils jersey on the Enforcers came with his own floor hockey stick, which he screwed together, like a pool cue.
Second of all, I did not have my best game. Normally, The Jesus Cobras have come to expect a high level of leadership and play from me, but I was off my game on Wednesday. Yes, I ACCIDENTALY scored 3 ½ goals ( the last one went in off Rachelle’s ankle) on our own net in the last five minutes, but this was simply a matter of our defensemen and goaltender not being alert and in position to accept a good, crisp pass.
I know that there’s been some mumbling that maybe I meant to score those goals on our own net, and yes, I have incurred some rather large gambling debts after a making a few wagers on the Super Bowl. However, in no way did my gambling debt influence the effort I gave on the floor on Wednesday night. I blocked THREE shots, and have the bruises to prove it. (By the way, I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you who’ve allowed me a little bit of extra time in paying off my gambling debt to you, in order to address the more pressing issue of paying off my bookie, Goran. You’re classy people, and if I’m ever in the position to return the favour for you, well, I certainly will, if the situation permits.).
Look, I know that Keo took a few grainy cell phone photos of me in the parking lot of Scarborough High, after the game, taking money from some teens. This was not because I had standing bets with them about the outcome of our match with The Enforcers, and then “threw” the game. That would be absurd, and the suggestion is insulting. I was simply selling them some weed. At any rate, I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to put this talk to rest. I want to assure you that I am, and will always be, your leader and rock on defense. Even though we lost on Wednesday night, we should be proud of ourselves.
We were fucking Spartans.