Category: Sports

Quel weekend

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Oooh, that was nice. Every weekend should be a 4-day long weekend. I know, I know, then they wouldn’t seem as special, but think of the bar sales!

Wednesday night we picked up two bottles of Rosewood Estates wine (the 2008 Semillon and 2008 Süssreserve Riesling) and some Cumbrae’s steaks by way of provisions, before kicking off our long weekend at Beerbistro (too crowded inside, too cold outside) and Duggan’s (just right). Not a long night, though…we were pacing ourselves.

I’ve already talked about Thursday — Canada Day — over here.

By Friday the weather was really picking up…good timing, as we’d decided to take the day off work. We began the day watching the orange jerseys parade along King Street toward Betty’s for the Netherlands-Brazil match before finding a less crowded seat at the Jason George from which to watch. Holland won and King Street went mad; we did a little furniture & art shopping, raided St. Lawrence Market, cleaned up our place (finally!), went for a run, made some ploughman’s lunch and drank a bottle of Firesteed Pinot Noir from Oregon.

Saturday started much like Friday: back to the Jason George to watch the Germany-Argentina match before hitting the farmer’s market and taking a stroll to the Distillery District. I needed a walk, Nellie needed wine glasses, and we both wanted to check out some art. Naturally we ended up sitting in the Mill Street brew pub, watching the excellent second half of the Spain-Paraguay match. When we arrived home Nellie completed her preparations for barbecued ribs, which were a tad on the spicy side…by which I mean they tasted like Satan had pissed hellfire in the sauce. Tasty, but they hurt my ever-so-delicate mouth.

Somewhere in there, between enjoying the outdoors at ground- or balcony-level, we watched a bunch of mediocre movies: My Best Friend’s Girl (imdb | rotten tomatoes), Green Zone (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and Thirst (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Actually, My Best Friend’s Girl was shit, but it was free, so I feel less bad about watching it.

Sunday was, sadly, the beginning of our return to reality. While we had fun taking pictures of all the hubbub of the Queen’s visit to our neighbourhood cathedral and relaxing on our balcony for the morning, it was back to work for me in the afternoon.

Father's day

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As you might remember, the Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup ten days ago. This made me happy for several reasons, but it made gave Nellie an extra reason to celebrate. Her dad was a Blackhawks fan all his life, right up until his death twelve years ago.

After he died she always said that if the Hawks won the cup, she’d take the picture from the newspaper, frame it and have it placed on his grave.

And so:

Enjoy it, sir.

Oh look, a pumpkin

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The Philadelphia Flyers have just defeated my Montreal Canadiens 4-2, thus eliminating them from the playoffs and moving on to play Chicago for the Stanley Cup. It was an improbable run by the Habs, barely squeaking into the playoffs and yet knocking off the #1 regular season team (Washington) in the first round, and last year’s Cup champion (Pittsburgh) in the second. Philly manhandled them, though, shutting them out three times.

It might have been that Montreal was just exhausted after slogging their way through two consecutive 7-game series. Jaroslav Halak stopped over 500 shots in the playoffs. Their best defenseman, and maybe best player overall — Andrei Markov — was hurt in the first game of round 2, and his absence showed in the anemic power play. Ultimately, though, the Flyers did what Washington and Pittsburgh didn’t: they adjusted. The Capitals and Penguins seemed convinced that if they just kept playing the same way they had all year, their talent would come through and win the day. That played right into the Habs’ strategy, but the Flyers had none of it. They crashed the net, unlike the Caps and Pens who just talked about doing it, and Montreal coach Jacques Martin seemed unwilling to use Ryan O’Byrne on D, the one player big and strong enough to clear the crease. The Philly defense cut off the entry pass and punished the Canadiens’ small, skilled players along the wall. Mike Leighton may have recorded the shutouts, but apart from game 2 he was little better than average. The Flyers just choked the life out of the Montreal forwards.

So now the Flyers will play the Blackhawks for the finals. I will be cheering for the latter, almost as enthusiastically as I would have cheered for Montreal had they made it to the finals. Here’s why:

  1. I have come to hate the Flyers as much as the Bruins and almost as much as the Leafs
  2. I have come to hate the Flyers’ fans even more than the Flyers
  3. I like a lot of Chicago players (especially Toews) and the way they play the game
  4. Chicago has always been Nellie’s team, but she cheers for Montreal for my sake. It’s only fair I return the favour
  5. If Chicago wins, the Maple Leafs will be the team who has gone the longest without winning the Stanley Cup. My excitement at this prospect should not be underestimated

So…I’ll take a few days to recover from this heartbreak, and then…go Hawks go.

Paddles up

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I went dragon boating today. First time, probably last time. It was actually kind of fun, even if I did end up wearing more of Lake Ontario than I would have liked. Couldn’t have picked a better day though…sunny, hot and water like a pane of glass.

Not much question whether I’ll be sore tomorrow. If my shoulders could give me a look both quizzical and annoyed, they would.

Why yes, I had a nice weekend, thank you. And you?

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Beerbistro patio: Weihenstephaner, Anchor Steam, Maudite. St. Louis Wings (!): 10 original buffalo and a sneak preview of Montreal’s next opponent. Slight hangover. Vet appointment: (reasonably) clean bill of health. Kittens. St. Lawrence Market. Practically the entire first season of Veronica Mars. A bottle of Southbrook Cabernet rosé. California trip planning. Cumbrae’s steaks and a bottle of 2007 Thirty Bench Cabernet Franc (the Johnny Cash wine) and Ontario strawberries. The Informant! (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Up early. Starbucks, so help me. A little work. Bier Markt: patio seats and Blanche de Chambly and two Weihenstephaner (seriously, when summer hits I just cannot pass up this beer) and lots of wurst. The dramatic conclusion of Veronica Mars season one. Desperate need for — and frustrating inability to — nap.

Now, game one of the NHL’s Eastern Conference semifinals. Be still, my yawning and yet overly nervous heart.

[     Rut     ] –> Me

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Wow. What a game. Tense. Awesome, but tense.

This past week was frenetic; I’ve definitely earned my day off tomorrow. We’re headed out for a wine excursion in Niagara-On-The-Lake, the first time we’ve left the city since we went to France last fall. The weather is supposed to be shit but I don’t care. I need this. And I need some good food. And I need some fresh air. And I need a comfy hotel bed.

And I need to be back for game five.

It could be much, much worse. Right, Leafs fans?

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Jeez, could my teams look any more awkward stumbling toward the playoffs? My Habs slumped at the end of the year, barely locking down the #8 spot and staring at the President’s Cup-winning Washington Capitals in the first round. The Raptors, meanwhile, have lost too many good players to injury and, following today’s loss to the Bulls, have slipped out of the playoffs.

Methinks I’ll get to enjoy the spring weather outdoors this year, rather than spending very many evenings in front of the TV. Too bad I didn’t care about baseball a little more; the Jays are off to a pretty good start.

"Someone's ear is in danger of having hair brushed over it…"

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I learned something this weekend: that there are three indispensable ingredients of a great weekend. These are, in no particular order: beautiful weather, ample time and people with which to share it.

On Friday I did have to go to the office, but it was nice enough outside that I could walk there, and I didn’t stay long. By noon I was home, fed and ready to enjoy the unseasonably warm day. Nellie and I strolled down to the Bier Markt patio for sunshine and beer (me: Erdinger weiss, Weihenstephan weiss, Spaten lager and Delirium Tremens; she: KLB Raspberry Wheat, Big Rock Grasshopper, Okanagan Spring pale and Koningshoeven Tripel) on a lazy Friday afternoon. Nellie had an urge for an Urthel Hop-It so we wandered up to the Beerbistro in search of one; alas, they had none. So we availed ourselves of the rest of their collection (me: Maudite and Trois Pistoles; she: Durham Hop Addict and Koningshoeven Quadrupel) while making dinner reservations at nearby Harlem. We’d been there once last year and liked it and it felt like the right fit on a lazy Good Friday. One ill-advised cocktail later and were into the starter (catfish Lafayette…yum!) and then our mains. My pork hocks were okay, but Nellie wisely got the fried chicken. I didn’t mind that I missed on some of the flavour. The relaxation was tasting delicious enough.

Saturday was the first day in about two months that I haven’t had to go to work, so I celebrated by sleeping in. Despite it being another beautiful day we didn’t really get out and about that much as we were prepping for dinner with T-Bone and The Sof. Well…Nellie did the prepping, I just cleaned up and provided moral support. Anyway, after a great meal (baguette w/ honey, balsamic and goat cheese; sausage-stuffed pasta with pancetta and sage; steak from Cumbrae’s and three kinds of cheese) this is what our table looked like:

Just for the record, that’s:

  • Marie Stuart champagne (which we brought back from France last fall)
  • Nino Franco prosecco
  • Stratus Icewine
  • Z52 Zinfandel
  • Hidden Bench Fume Blanc
  • L’Acadie Alchemy
  • Noval 2001 Port
  • Blanche de Chambly
  • Christofel Nobel
  • Doppel-Hirsch Doppelbock

And yes, in case you’re wondering, Nellie does like to drink her beer from a wine glass toward the end of the evening.

Sunday was, blessedly, another lazy day. A good lie-in, brunch at the Jason George, a nice long talk with my mom who turned 60 (!) today and Zombieland (imdb | rotten tomatoes), which was excellent. Tomorrow it’s back to work, in spite of my best efforts to take a day off, but for the first time this year I feel like I really got my money’s worth out of a weekend.

Oh, and the other ingredient for a perfect weekend? Consecutive shutouts.

http://www.thebiermarkt.com/home.html

Vancouver 2010

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So, uh, that happened.

Sorry for the delayed editorial response, but it’s basically taken me a week to recover from the off-key shit show that was the closing ceremonies. With that cleansed from my memory (a simple what now?) I find myself looking back fondly at what were, for me anyway, the greatest winter games ever. Highlights for me:

  • Alex Bilodeau, naturally, winning the first Canadian gold medal on home soil
  • Ashleigh Macivor, who seemed to win gold and take to the spotlight like it was predetermined
  • The women’s hockey team, who steamrolled the field on their way to yet another gold medal. Bonus points for awesome celebrations and exposing the inherent sexism in expected athletic conduct
  • Maelle Ricker, on whom I have a Blackcomb-sized crush
  • Jasey-Jay Anderson, who we watched come from way behind in the final race to win gold, capping off a long, brilliant career
  • Clara Hughes winning yet another medal, cementing her position as the greatest all-around athlete this country has ever fielded
  • Multiple-medal wins by the speed skaters, but especially Charles Hamelin & Marianne St-Gelais. The video of St-Gelais watching her boyfriend finally win gold at these games was one of the purest, and most adorable, moments of excitement and joy I’ve ever seen.
  • Joannie Rochette. Full stop. Honestly, I give less than half a shit about figure skating and don’t care if I never watch it again, but c’mon…to compete just days after your mother dies, and to do so (nearly) flawlessly, as a tribute to her, and to top it all off to win an Olympic medal? Unreal. She’s my new hero.
  • And, of course, the cap-off memory from the games was the cap-off event: the men’s gold medal hockey game. We got to see a game that will go down as one of the all-time classics between Canada and their new chief rival, one that went to overtime to decide the gold medal after some last-second heroics by the US. And we got to see the new torchbearer of Canadian hockey score the golden goal. After that goal was scored Nellie and I ran out to the balcony, and we could hear the entire city erupt (just like Vancouver). We took to the streets to join the celebration, which wasn’t just about hockey. It was that oh-so-rare Canadian moment, an outpouring of patriotic pride…which typically just happen to be centered around hockey.

My one regret about these games was that we weren’t there in Vancouver to experience them. If I knew in 2003 what I know now I would have started buying tickets and booking flights immediately upon the games being awarded to Vancouver-Whistler. I’m not sure when Canada will ever have another games (Toronto seems to have used up its chances at landing the summer games and isn’t a viable venue for winter sports; Montreal, Calgary and Vancouver have all had their recent go. I suspect Quebec City is our only hope now.) and so I worry that I’ve missed my chance. But it’s become so commonplace to watch live events on TV that we sometimes forget how lucky we are to be able to witness such events in real time, along with two thirds of the country, and jump up and cheer and, in our case, run up the middle of the world’s longest street high-fiving strangers. That doesn’t happen every day.

Now, a week later, I miss that feeling terribly.

I hope I never stop.