Go Pro With Allison Stokke


It’s been quite sometime since I’ve posted anything in regards to internet sensation Allison Stokke and as a result I’ve neglected and have done a disservice to my adopted favourite sport of Pole Vaulting.  I would like to remedy this situation as I know one of my loyal readers (who hails from North East, Pennsylvania) relies on me to be his hub for all of his Pole Vaulting news.

As an offer of peace I would like to extend an olive branch and submit Allison Stokke’s new commercial for GO PRO for your perusal.

(Sorry King and you are welcome)


I was watching the morning highlights with my young sons (The Association and The Merger) the other morning when I came across DeJuan Blair destroying Brian Roberts on a massive screen.  Blair’s screen immediately floored me (weak pun intended) with memories of the hard-nosed brand of basketball that my friends and I played in the McMaster “C” division intramurals “circa the year 2000″.

Our intramural squad was a uniquely talented group of doormen from the campus pub where we all worked. The pub was aptly named The Downstairs John (due to its placement in the basement of Wentworth house and for the smells that emanated from it).  As doormen of the DSJ we called ourselves “GOONS” due to the gentle nature in which we would escort patrons from the premises when problems would occur.

On the basketball court we played the game with the same vigour as we approached our jobs as “GOONS”.  Thus as the sight a  DeJuan Blair like screen or a Bill Laimbeer elbow was commonplace anytime the “GOONS” were on the court.  Whether we were playing such intramural all-stars like SOCS McDonald Or Mutt 69 the “GOONS” made sure that anyone that stepped on the court knew who they were playing.

We often reminded the other squads that we were allowed to foul them 5 times each and that we carried 12 men on the roster.  If that wasn’t enough to entice them not to put the ball in the hoop we would then remind them that we controlled whether we they got into the pub that night (or any night for that matter).  I suspect the latter reason is the reason we were able to garner that FINALIST ribbon instead of the participant ribbon we most assuredly deserved.

Yesterday was the city of Boston feted the New England Patriots Super Bowl victory with  a duck boat parade.  Patriots tight end Rob Gronkowski was in full Gronk mode downing beers that were tossed to him by fans in the crowd (which in essence is the opposite of any parade I’ve ever attended where the people in the parade throw candy and things to you.)


Gronk inspired this young Patriots fan to emulate his beverage pouring skills.  Fantastic stuff!



The Cincinnati Cyclones of the ECHL (East Coast Hockey League for those not in the know) recently held a 1 dollar beer night promotion.  This picture would suggest it was a successful campaign.  It would also appear that these fine fans had their fill of Pabst Blue Ribbon and Miller High Life (the champagne of beers) and were using their play based learning of structures and shapes for their culminating task (that last part is a tip of the cap to you Kindergarten teachers).

This particular picture makes me chuckle and reflect on some of the fans I’ve encountered while playing in the Niagara Junior C hockey loop back in the mid 90’s.  I always went out of my way to engage the fans when I had the opportunity (truth be told I had plenty of opportunities as on most nights I was commonly found in the penalty box, press box or at the end of the bench awaiting a chance).

Let me transport your mind to a cold evening in the lovely town of Woodstock, Ontario.  I was playing for the Simcoe Storm and as often was the case I had found my way into the penalty box early in the game. I can’t remember the exact infraction but it was likely not my fault or I was wrongly accused.  In any event I found myself in the small box of shame counting down each second of my punishment.

While I was there a fan behind me was chirping me pretty good.  The fan in question was hitting me with some amateur hour barbs about my weight.  I engaged the fella with a few hand gestures as he kept sqwaking at me.  Finally the time passed by and I let go from the box and back into gen pop (aka back into the game).

This particular fan (who was an adult compared to my 18 years of age at the time) was a pro heckler. He came prepared with treats for my next visit to the box later in the game.   On this occasion I found myself sharing the penalty spa (it’s normally a refreshing experience) with a teammate named Jack “The Bear” Ronson.  The Bear was a massive man (a carbon copy of Paul Bunyan would be an apt comparison).  Sharing the box with him left little room for rest and relaxation, however it was pure delight for the heckling fan.  The fan was so enamored with The Bear’s size that he heckled him with the Jim Shoenfield “GO HAVE ANOTHER DONUT ROUTINE“.  The Bear loved this and told the fan that he would love to have a donut with him after the game, perhaps in the parking lot. At this point the fan tossed a boston cream donut into the box.  Undaunted The Bear put down his gloves, took off his helmet and picked up the boston cream.

The Bear than devoured the donut.  Stone cold serial killer like, The Bear destroyed that donut.  Seconds after dusting off the donut we both left the box and returned to the bench.

Such a classic random memory to have.





I’m not a bad guy and I’m most likely not as benevolent as I probably should be.  So it was quite easy for me to support Bell Let’s Talk Day. It’s the least I can do and as luck would have I’m pretty proficient at doing the least in many situations that I face.

If you are not aware Bell is donating 5 cents to help support mental health initiatives in Canada with every tweet and retweet of #BellLetsTalk



Way To Go Paul!!!


Overzealous hockey parents are always a tad gauche in my opinion (Note to others: Don’t become one).  Irate parents who think their little Johnny’s or little Suzie’s are going on to play in the NHL or represent their country at the Olympics have been around forever.  Losing their minds at coaches, referees, other players and at other fans these parents are often seen doing many irrational things.

I can recall seeing a few fans during my playing days who are probably pretty happy that their antics weren’t captured with the latest wave in technology (good thing the old Camcorder wasn’t rolling in the Port Dover arena, right Mom?”)  I’m pretty certain the gentleman on the following clip feels wishes his craziness happened in another era. “Way To Go Paul!” is going to live on in infamy.  Solid pro move Paul!




Tonight is a dark night in the NHL (for most Leaf fans that is most nights but I digress) and the only stick and puck game worthy of typing about is the CHL prospects game.  This game will allow those who tune in (and the many scouts in attendance) another chance to see Connor McDavid scoot around the ice while others try their best (often in vain) to catch him.

This year’s game will also feature a defenceman named Matt Spencer of the Peterborough Petes.  I’ve been fortunate enough to play hockey with the aforementioned Spencer’s father for the past few winters. Luckily for Matt it would appear that his high hockey acumen has come from his mother, as I can routinely be seen blowing by his father off the wing every Sunday morning (would I lie?).

Other than having a friend’s son play in this game (providing yet more evidence of me getting older and older) this all in prospect format is usually much better  hockey than the high-end shinny hockey that NHL all-star game that will be played later on this weekend.  The players play with a high intensity and unlike the NHL’s version there is plenty of hitting and from time to time a dust-up or two.

Case in point the 2003 game in which Dion Phaneuf dropped the gloves with Paul “Biznasty” Bissonnette. Enjoy!




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