It was Aristotle who uttered the famous words, “Everything in moderation.” Which is all well and good–except that Aristotle never spent a weekend in Toronto which featured both a Battle of Ontario game (for which he could get good, legal tickets) and an all-male Super Bowl party where the guest of honour was an Autofry.
I now have–and let me assure you, under these conditions, moderation is not only a physical impossibility, it’s also the very first thing to go (edging my dignity by a hair). And now that I’m spending an entire day recovering from the weekend’s excesses, here’s how it went.
Firstly, re: the Battle of Ontario: prior to Saturday’s game, a 4-2 Toronto win over a strangely listless Ottawa side, I’d never seen the Leafs beat the Senators in Toronto. Five times I’d attended BoO (aside: boo!) games at the Air Canada Centre–and five times the Senators had won, even if three of the games required overtime/the first-ever shootout in NHL history. In fact, Saturday’s game was also the very first time I’d ever seen Ottawa fail to collect at least a point against Toronto. It took me nine tries; that’s not too bad, right?
ANYWAY: I went to the game with KDM, a.k.a. the world’s biggest/most beligerant Ottawa Senators fan. Goals from Dominic Moore (the game’s first star!), Jiri Tlusty (Lusty Tlusty!), Carlo Colaiacovo (our newest glasshead!) and Jason Blake (you have got to be joking) shut him up…but not before he almost threw me into the 100 level during a goal celebration, wasted an entire intermission trying to photograph an Elmo balloon stuck in the rafters and did his Jason Spezza impersonation at least two dozen times. He also got a great new nickname for his team’s former #1 goaltender, Ray Emery, who got fined $14,000 last week for showing up late for practice. The nickname? Flava Flav. Start spreading the news, sportsfans.
Yesterday, meanwhile, was the Super Bowl. You probably knew this, even if you didn’t watch a single down of NFL football this year. That’s because the Super Bowl, for whatever reason, has become a major event on the annual social calendar; even if you’ve got nothing whatsoever invested in the outcome (which I didn’t, although I did want to see Randy Moss win a ring), you’ll probably end up watching it regardless. This, indirectly, explains how I ended up at an all-male party eating nothing but freshly deep fried food and drinking two litres of homebrew. I was fine until the deep-friend Twinkies came out; within minutes of ingesting a second one of them, I was rushing downstairs to return the offering back to the porcelain gods (so to speak). Today, I’m feeling worse than I’ve felt in years; I’ve got cooking oil seeping out of every single one of my body’s pores, and I’m also nursing an absolute bollocking headache. God bless Super Bowl Sunday!
Anyway: I’m in Toronto for another week, doing the occasional school visit (at least three, and possibly four between now and Thursday) but otherwise enjoying what is, in my mind anyway, a well-deserved break. Tomorrow, meanwhile, I’m hitting another Leaf game. I’ve got nothing but respect for Aristotle’s wisdom…but when you’re living on the other side of the country, you’ve gotta support your team as often as you can. Moderation be damned–this week, more than ever.