Jun 10 2013

Talking Out My Five Hole With Dawn Authier – Episode Two

"The first time" or "Attack of the Broads"

OK, before I begin, I want to make sure I set the right mood for this.

Let me see if I have everything:

Candles. Check.

Barry White on the stereo. Check

Noticable obscene bulge protruding from my groin area? Check a doodle doo.

Its just padding. Sheesh!

Anyway, I am here to talk of the first time I finally got to play in goal for the View Askew Girls.

And what team did we face that would pop our cherries like a giggly girl on prom night?

Vulgarians? Nope.

Zombies? No, save them for later.

One of the new expansion teams? Nyet.

Reapers? No.

Who do we face first? Oh, just some team called Puck U.

You know, that team that everyone at the tournament comes to see because it was formed by some guy named Kevin Smith.

You know, no pressure.

I remember talking to Ming Chen the night before. He asked if I was ready.

My answer?

"Fuck no."

I believe in being honest and direct.

I did let slip to him one bit of strategy that may help them out. I mentioned that Katie Morgan might be a bit of a distraction running towards me in goal.

I'm human. Sue me.

Anyway, I get into the rink and waddle on towards the net I will be defending. Behind me are quite a few spectators and all I could think of is, "Aw shit. They are going to see how big my ass is." Little did I realize through the course of the first half, they would nit pick of other things.

Mostly about how I sucked at goaltending.

Anyway, back to the story.

So I stand in goal and watch Puck U enter the rink. Everyone applauding Kevin and his team. It was all I could do not to throw up from nerves. I spot Kevin at the opposite end and wave. He gave a wave back and then it was on like Donkey Kong.

Well, kinda.

Within one minute of play, Mosier broke one of the girls' stick. I wasn't sure if this was a bad sign or not but with no salt to toss over my shoulder and not a four-leaf clover in sight, I just had to put the bad juju in the back of my mind.

Now, I would like to say that I played like a champ and blocked shots standing on my head. I would like to say that. However, the reality was, I was letting most of them shots bounce off of me while trying to figure out where the defense was.

*I am not taking my team to task here. It was the first time any of us played hockey and, my fellow goalies will back me up on this, we (goalies) always wonder where our defense is.*

Those fifteen minutes were the most brutal 15 minutes I have ever gone through. I could not catch a break to save my life. It seemed everytime I looked up, I had three Puck U players storming in my general direction.

Including Katie Morgan.

I will be honest, I can't remember if she scored on me or not. At that point, I didn't really fucking care. I was enjoying watching her run.

Sue me.

That and I think I was running out of gas by the time the sound went off indicating a five minute rest period. Five minutes?? Are you nucking futs!?! I was dyin, barely could talk and they expected me to get my shit together in five minutes???

Right.

So, I go to the bench, downing water and having Jen Schwalbach put ice cubes down my jersey when my savior came to our bench.

All of a sudden, standing next to me, is the man himself: Kevin Smith.

Normally, I get kind of tongue-tied when it comes to meeting someone whom I consider a hero. This time, way too fucking tired. You could have told me Alyson Hannigan was standing next to me and wanted me to play "find the flute" with her and I would have asked for water and a nap first.

Where was I? Oh yeah.

Anyway, Kevin comes up to us and says (not a direct quote as I have had twenty concussions in my life and this was over three years ago. You guys should be happy I remember to zip up my pants!), "I have been down here reading, writing my next script and doing macrame. How about you tend goal for Puck U and I'll give you a break and defend for the VAG."

I wasn't sure if he was taking pity on me or kind of saying our team sucked. Too tired to care. So I agreed. Both him and Jen told me to feel free to let a few go in.

Yes, you heard me. They told me to let a few goals go in intentionally.

So I go back to the net, grab my stuff and head towards Puck U's net. About midway, I met Kevin and said the following:

"You will not hear this from a lesbian everyday but for giving me a break, sir, I will suck your dick."

I quickly walked away as I heard him laugh. I was glad he didn't take me seriously.

So, I get settled in and watched the game. There were a few moments where my team mates were coming close to my goal and I was more than ready to step aside and do as I was instructed. Only Mosier kept taking the puck away. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Or stick.

As Mosier and Addie (I think it was Addie) fought for the ball against the boards, I stuck in behind them, took my stick between Mosiers legs (kinky bitch that I am) and fished the ball (NOT THAT ONE) from between them and put it into my net.

Score for the V.A.G.

I heard some folks laughing and I shrugged, "What?"

I allowed two more in not too long after that." Jim Jackman jokingly asked if the

clouds were in my eyes. I wanted to say his wife was distracting me but he probably heard that a million times already.

For the record, he is married to Katie Morgan. You know, in case you don't know how to google.

After the game, even though we lost 8-3, I received the biggest honor I have ever received.

Most of my team surrounded me and patted me on the helmet (some really hard…..LAURA!!!) and cheered me.

I was very confused as to why they were treating me like some sort of conquering hero when I gave up four goals in the first half (and many more to follow in games after) but it felt really good.

I would of accepted a group rub down but you take what you can get right?

It was at that moment, I felt like I truly earned my jersey.

I will take that feeling with me to the grave.

Later.

 

Oh, shit, one last thing. It was revealed to me later during that first tournament for us that many thought we were porn stars, since you know, Katie Morgan was there playing on Kevin's team and we were all girls.

Yep. They figured it out. Only, I only am a stunt cunt.

If you have seen Orgazmo, you get the reference.

Until we meet again,which will be after the 2013 tournament…..

Jun 07 2013

Episode 18 – VASHL Podcast – Captain’s Log

Featuring:
Mark Bell (Monroeville Zombies)
Katie Seavy (View Askew Girls)
Chris Fenos (Funployees)
Mike McCutcheon (View Askew Vulgarians)
Dave Mader (Eden Prairie Mallrats)
Mike Crandall (Leonardo Reapers)
Darryl Clarke (Commissioner)

2013 logo

Jun 03 2013

He shoots! Charity scores!

Congrats to VASHL for being featured on the front page of the Brantford Expositor for the tournament. Thanks for your support!

The Expositor

Gerry McRaeYou’re entitled to a bit of special treatment if a ball hockey team is named in your honour.

So Sam Loslo discovered on Saturday when Team Loslo held its game for more than a few minutes while their namesake participated in the opening ceremony at the Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament at the Steve Brown Sports Complex at Lions Park.

The 15-year-old North Park Collegiate student stood beside Gretzky to drop the ball that officially opened the seventh annual tourney.

“Ball hockey lets me forget about everything else and just have fun,” said Loslo, who was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia in February 2011.

Last year, Sam, who is in Grade 10, and a group of his friends put together a team that raised more than $1,500 for the Children’s Wish Foundation.

Sam is doing well following 25 months of chemotherapy but will still require a couple of surgeries, said his mother Trudy.

“Ball hockey lifts his spirits,” she said.

Team Loslo was among 163 teams and more than 2,000 participants in the two-day Gretzky tournament that raises funds for the Lung Association. This year’s goal is $30,000.

From sun-up to sundown, players of all ages and divisions held games on 15 rinks set up in the parking lot, and on tennis and basketball courts in Lions Park.

“It’s an amazing event,” said Sandy Lee, fund development co-ordinator with the Lung Association. “A lot of us didn’t have organized sports, but in every neighbourhood somebody had a hockey net and tennis ball.”

“But, really, the major draw is Wally.”

The affable Walter Gretzky spent hours talking and joking with players and spectators, and posing for endless snapshots.

Several players on the Go Shelf team were thrilled to have all of their bright orange jerseys signed by the world’s most famous hockey dad.

“He is awesome,” said Owen Houley, a 14-year-old Grade 8 student at St. Theresa’s School. “This isn’t Wayne’s town, it’s Walter’s town.”

Players came from all over the province for the event. Six teams, including one each from Chicago and New Jersey and four from New York, call themselves View Askew, in tribute to View Askew Productions, an American film and television production company founded by Kevin Smith and Scott Mosier in 1994.

Smith is a huge Walter Gretzky fan and has been an enthusiastic supporter of the tournament.
Dave TillyOutrageous attire has become a tradition for the Smith group. Dave Tilly of Orillia waited for the start of his first game on Saturday wearing a tartan skirt, welding goggles and T-shirt that said Funployee, in reference to a term used in Smith’s movie Clerks 2.

It was Tilly’s third year at the tournament.

“The first year I was kind of drafted,” he said. “I had just come to watch but they said, ‘Here’s your jersey and stick. You’re playing.’

“We love Walter and we get a bit of face time with him every year.”

 

 

 
Sean McKenna and Stu GillandersLee said money raised by the event will go toward research. More than three million Canadians cope with one of five serious respiratory diseases – asthma, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, lung cancer, tuberculosis, and cystic fibrosis.

The local Lung Association has an annual fundraising goal of slightly more than $150,000 for research at nearby health facilities, said Lee.

“I get to raise the money, write the cheque and see the results.”

George Habib, president and CEO of the Ontario Lung Association, said “ball hockey is a wonderful demonstration of the need for healthy lungs.”

He is calling on the government to adopt a “lung health action plan” similar to those in place for cancer, diabetes and heart and stroke.

michelle.ruby@sunmedia.ca

twitter.com/EXPMichelle

via www.brantfordexpositor.ca

Jun 03 2013

MALLRATS WIN!

Mallrats Win

May 29 2013

WGSHT Schedule 2013

Game # 1775830
Eden Prairie Mallrats  @ Monroeville Zombies
Date: Fri May 31, 2013 @ 5:00 pm – 5:45 pm
Location:
Rink 1 (BHi Brantford)

Game # 1775831
View Askew Vulgarians  @ Leonardo Reapers
Date: Fri May 31, 2013 @ 5:45 pm – 6:30 pm
Location:
Rink 1 (BHi Brantford)

Game # 1775832
Funployees  @ View Askew Girls
Date: Fri May 31, 2013 @ 6:30 pm – 7:15 pm
Location:
Rink 1 (BHi Brantford)

Game # 1775836
View Askew Vulgarians  @ View Askew Girls
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 10:15 am – 11:00 am
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1775837
Monroeville Zombies  @ Funployees
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 11:00 am – 11:45 am
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1775838
Leonardo Reapers  @ Eden Prairie Mallrats
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 11:45 am – 12:30 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1775839
Monroeville Zombies  @ View Askew Vulgarians
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 2:00 pm – 2:45 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1775840
Funployees  @ Leonardo Reapers
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 2:45 pm – 3:30 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1775841
Eden Prairie Mallrats  @ View Askew Girls
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 3:30 pm – 4:15 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)

Game # 1776903
TBA  @ TBA
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 6:30 pm – 7:15 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)
Details: Semi Final 1: 1 vs 4

Game # 1776905
TBA  @ TBA
Date: Sat Jun 01, 2013 @ 7:15 pm – 8:00 pm
Location: Rink 9 (Parking Lot)
Details: Semi Final 2: 2 vs 3

Game # 1777792
TBA  @ TBA
Date: Sun Jun 02, 2013 @ 2:00 pm – 2:45 pm
Location:
Rink 1 (BHi Brantford)
Details: Championship Game

Via bhitourney.goalline.ca

May 22 2013

You’re All That I Wanted

By Dave Mader

You're all that I wantedFor me, the VASHL functions as an enduring oasis of acceptance and alternative family. I have made lifelong friends and fulfilled dreams through this group of amazing, talented people. My only regret about this whole experience is that I wasn’t part of it sooner. But I’m absolutely glad that I am now and I wanted to use this blogging platform to tell my story on how I got here.

I am, and will always be, a huge fan of Kevin Smith. The movies are what made him famous but it’s his message that I’ve always really dug. My career is in marketing and I promote the philosophy to my clients that people don’t buy what you do. They buy why you do it. What you do merely serves to prove why you do it. Essentially meaning that people will believe in you IF you believe in yourself first.

And that’s how I feel about Kevin. His movies are among my all-time favourites but they merely serve as vehicle to get his particular message across. What he liked and what spoke to him was very much the same for me. A few of those things included Degrassi, comic books and hockey but those were merely the tangible items. The morality tales themed around friendship and love is what has really made an impact and stuck with me.

Kevin (and his subject matter) has been described as having a filthy mind with a heart of gold. Like many other great figures, I think that he attracts a certain type of follower. In this case, someone who understands that a little dirty joke is inconsequential to standing up for ideals like friendship and equality. Why do you need to be vulgar to get that across? Well, it’s less fucking fun and not nearly as entertaining.

Since I was thirteen, I’ve been hooked on Kevin’s material. This included everything from movies, DVD interviews, comic books and more.  It started with Chasing Amy and Mallrats in
one night in Montreal when we rented them on VHS. To this day, most of my family has no clue who Kevin really is and when I try to explain it, I get a lot of glazed over looks –
particularly from my Dad. Then Kevin and Scott Mosier started SModcast and it was a game changer. After listening to hundreds of hours of hilarious content I realized this felt like the longest one-way conversation of my life. None of my friends listened to the show and I’m someone who really thrives on discussing content of my favourite things with people. How can I explain a joke about Malcolm Ingram if nobody I know even knows who he is? It was definitely a hole in my heart that I wanted to fill. I had signed up for Kevin’s online message board but found it difficult to assimilate with the crew so I didn’t stick with it.

In early 2009, I got laid off from my job and (to say the least), I was devastated. Luckily, I had received tickets to Kevin’s show at Roy Thompson Hall in Toronto for Christmas. It was the first time I had ever seen him in the flesh. As he spoke, it quickly became clear that he was going through his own battle with depression. His recent film, Zack & Miri Make a Porno, had underperformed at the box office and it had really bummed him out. I loved the movie but couldn’t say that I was surprised with the results as I was literally the only person my theatre on opening night. Kevin began to speak about dealing with the blues, finding marijuana and embracing Wayne Gretzky and hockey. As a lifelong Calgary Flames fan, it’s hard to get excited about anything to do with the Oilers but as he spoke at Roy Thompson Hall that night, he described how he was coping with his problems. In a weird way, he helped me through mine – at least a bit. A few weeks later, I was lucky enough to see him do another Q&A at the Bloor Cinema after screenings of Dogma and Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back. He spoke to a lot of the same things that he did before but in a much more personal way. All of this had a profound effect on me.

Everything what Kevin had shared with us in Toronto eventually came up on SModcast. Then he dropped the news that he would be playing in the Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament in Brantford, Ontario – a place that is only a mere half hour from my home. I was thrilled by the idea of being part of it. Actually getting to play in a ball hockey game against one of my heroes? The
problem was, I had no idea where to start. Kevin mentioned recruiting message board members to some of the teams. I knew I wanted to play. In the meantime, I had found a new job where I was too busy to work out the logistics of getting there that week. If I could go back in time, I would have just forgotten work and gone by myself. I let that June weekend slip away but I swore that I’d find a way to participate in some way.

By the following year, Kevin had spoken at length about the incredible time he had at the 2009 tournament. He began his quest to break the Guinness record of most teams at tournament and I knew I couldn’t let anything get in my way. So I reached out to a faceless Twitter universe with a plea to find a team for the tournament. I found two people, Angela Robson and Gillian
Frederick. Together the three of us would form the team known as The Laffs. I recruited Steve Vasey and my brother, Jeff Mader. A few weeks later I got the opportunity to meet a crew of VASHL members for the first time at an outdoor practice. We didn’t compete in the VASHL division that year but I did get the chance to meet even more great VASHL people in Brantford during that weekend. I particularly remember a Saturday evening on Gavin’s balcony nearly passing out from all of the fun just to turn around and play our next hockey game. Kevin was also there, of course, and I wanted to continue to pursue the dream of playing a street hockey game with him.

A year later, I somehow managed to convince some of folks at the VASHL to take me and some of my friends into the league. I’ll always be
grateful to people like Darryl Clarke for making that happen. It was this year that I first met two of my best friends, Jim Edelston and Gerry McRae – who along with Jeff now consist of the leadership among our team. When it came time to finally play in my first tournament, to say that I was excited would be a monumental understatement. I felt incredibly proud to be donning the Red State Raiders jersey. I had finally made it to the league, at least formally, and after a two year journey I was there. I had been around other Kevin Smith fans at Q&A events and even the first time I attended the Brantford tournament. I think I found what I had been looking for since I was thirteen – a group of amazing and equally obsessed super-fans who thought very much as I did. It was in this community that I found a family where I was truly accepted and embraced – and that’s how I feel about the entire group.

I make no secret of the fact that I’m a competitive guy. That’s saying something considering I’m not much of a hockey player. It’s the way my brothers and I were raised. You go out and you do your absolute best no matter what the results are. I really relate with the character of Buddy in the song Hit Somebody – a guy who loves hockey but totally sucks at it. That’s one of the enduring thoughts that keeps me motivated each time I hit courts in the VASHL. I intend to bring my usual brand of intensity back this year. Losing in last year’s final was a bummer. Even so, I was and still am really happy for all members of that Leonardo Reapers team who did win. They sure earned it.

This will be the first time that I’ll be leading the Mallrats solo – without my mentor, Darryl Clarke. In fact, this will be the first year we’re actually going by the Eden Prairie Mallrats name. I thought it was fitting of our group and important to make sure that our team has an identity that speaks to Kevin Smith and how he brought us together in this View Askew Street Hockey League. I’m excited to lead this team to a championship.

More than that, I’m really excited to see all of you. What I was looking for all along wasn’t Kevin himself, but rather other like-minded people who subscribe to his philosophy as I do. I think that rings true for all of us who come back every year despite the celebrity factor now being absent.

People don’t buy what you do. They buy why you do it. What do you do merely serves to prove why you do it. With you good folks, I certainly know why I’m hooked. You’re all that I wanted all along.

Anyway, that’s enough strange metaphors for now. See you fuckers in a week!

Go Mallrats!

May 21 2013

1750 Words to Say Thanks! Dehydration Love!

Dehydration Love

By VASHL Champion Reaper Goalie

Mike Hoffman

Go ReapersWhen I came to, I was being told to stay still.  My legs and back were cramping from the dehydration, and the room was still spinning, just slower now.  I couldn’t sit still and wait for an ambulance.  Where am I?  Canada. . . . I could tell because everyone was so nice and concerned.  Why am I on the floor bleeding?  Tougher question with a throbbing head from apparently hitting the wall . . . but I think it was because I either drank too little or too much, depending on your perspective and your choice of fluids to judge.  Coming more clearly into focus at that point was the realization that I had let my teammates down through my own stupidity.

Once in the ambulance, I feared concussion from the fall, but I knew what caused the fall.  This Vaso-Vagal response is one I had experienced before, in much more embarrassing circumstances.  Passing out (presumed drunk) in a bar was much easier to explain than passing out naked in the shower at the YMCA.  But I did that twice, because I dehydrated.  But I had a lot to drink tonight.   Yeah, I had A LOT to drink tonight.  Shit.  The alcohol was dehydrating my stomach and the rest of me, just like I learned freshman year in New Orleans.  Lots of fluids with your alcohol and you stand a chance of enjoying the good parts of intoxication without those nasty side effects. 

Remembering it all clearly as the ambulance pulled away.  3 hours sleep between two 10+ hour driving shifts to get to Brantford from New Jersey by way of Chicago (don’t ask!), to suit up in hot goalie gear (with no water bottle – IDIOT) and play continuously for 2 hours in a practice game.  Then shower and try to recover.  Tylenol. . . . Canadian Tylenol.  Yeah, that stuff works if you are sore.  But in this case, terrible mistake, as it made me not feel my body’s signals that it was suffering.  Moonshine Cherries.  Mistakes abounding and compounding.  Pink Vex. . . . wow, tasty, but very alcoholic  . . . I am hugging really cool lesbians!!!  I must have a shot with them!  Mistakes ROCK!  How much BETTER could things possibly get?!?!?!  The room is spinning, I love that feeling.  Spinning too much, let’s get up and head to the bar.  WHOA!  I should take a  . . . . . . stay still, don’t get up, the ambulance is coming.

The hospital had me sit in a hallway on a gurney for almost 6 hours with two, now lifelong, friends, who thought enough to call my wife on her cell and tell her what kind of idiot her husband is.  The substandard treatment of the medical staff was only counteracted by the . . . I will call it what it was. . . love of my friends there with me.  I was cleared to leave and play hockey at the crack of dawn (no not THAT Dawn!) and we made our way back to the hotel, exhausted and relieved. 

With a marker and a hotel hand towel, mimicking our founder Kevin Smith’s,  announcement to the world, I posted a sign on my door.  “Yes, I assure you, I am fine!”  I knew everyone was worried, and might knock to see if I was there.  I really needed some restful sleep.  And I got it.  When I woke up, the tournament truly began.  My roommate, whom I had agreed to let stay in my room, was gone before I got back.  Apparently after Dylan puked near him, and I was wheeled out on a stretcher, he decided that Brantford became Mos Isely and we were the scum and villains to avoid.  But he didn’t stop there.  His message to us was heard loud and clear.  Hydrate.  Be Excellent to One Another.  And. . . . Stop Partying On Dudes!  In his defense, he cared for all of us, me especially, but it was received mostly as a joke. 

I grabbed my goalie gear and headed for the rink in a fairly heavy rainstorm.  Are we actually going to play in this.  Once we were there for a few minutes, my question was answered.  Um. . . . fuck yeah!?!  Soaked, I donned my newly painted mask, bearing my own motto for the tournament, becoming the Reaper . . . in the words made famous by Robert Oppenheimer “Now I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds.”  I was ready to play.  And we won.

And the next day, we won again.  And then, we lost.  As I was still feeling the love of my friends taking care of me after my fall.  It ground at me and fueled inside me to play harder and better, and we did.  By the end of that night, we had won our semi-final matchup and were scheduled to play in the finals the next day.  Better yet, our assistant captain, playing for another team, scored the most unlikely and unexpected shootout goal in VASHL history.  Gavin . . . . a stay at home defenseman and self-defined “funbassador” lined up to take his penalty shot . . . and scored on the crazy clown himself, Artist Jim.  And thus the Ever-Aging Vulgarians were out.  Off the most unlikely of sticks.  In the most unlikely of circumstances.  And I knew we could win.  The other team was tough and stacked and they were truly a team. 

I looked around at the Reapers, at my guys, at my teammates, at my friends, and I knew what I had to do.  I had to do the best I could possibly do out there.  I had to fight every shot and make every effort for them, because they would do the same for me.  We had no quit.  But we did have humor.  On the way into the hotel, I turned to the defenseman for my opponent the next day and said right to his face “Verdone, you suck cock.”  And I smiled and he was either confused or amused, but either way, he got my point.  There was no HATE, only pleasant rivalry.

That night I sat down in a quiet empty hotel room with that new mask and I made two additions to its’ back.  First, on the back of the headguard, I wrote the names of my kids.  They would be there in my heart, helping me succeed in the face of adversity.  Under each of their names, I put their birthdates.  And second, at the top, I put the date 6/6/04.  My wedding anniversary.  Without love, without my wife’s support and encouragement, I am nothing and I know that.  She was behind me even when I was an idiot.  She supported me when I fell, and she was the hand that helped me back up, from 1000 miles away.  She has always been my angel.  And my wife and kids would be there, in that championship game, guiding me.

When Crandall brought our team together to discuss strategy, I asked for a minute to say something.  Everyone got quiet and looked at me.  “Gentlemen, it has been an honor and a privilege to play with each and every one of you.  I intend to go out there and leave nothing to chance.  I am going to play my hardest for each and every one of you, because I know you will do the same for me.  Lets win this!”  And there wasn’t a cheer.  Just a confident nod from each of them.  They were feeling the exact same way.    

The game was close throughout.  I let in some bad goals, but I stopped some amazing shots from my adversaries.  Down one goal late, our opponents were pushing hard.  Jeff, in particular, was playing his heart out.  I just happened to have his number all weekend.  With seconds to go, Crandall and Jeff took a spill into the corner and as the buzzer sounded, Crandall arose bleeding, and Jeff, well, didn’t get up.  He was writhing in pain and Crandall was over him making sure he was alright.  Both teams went to that corner, to my left, to check on Jeff.  His injuries (and Crandall’s bloody knee) capped off a hard fought battle, but a clear win for the Reapers. 

Once it was determined by all that Jeff would be alright, the celebration ensued.  Handshakes and hugs to every member of the other team.  I was crying and everyone saw it.  I didn’t care.  It was such an emotionally charged weekend.  Starting in the ER, ending holding up this cup.  I let the tears flow, took off my mask, and kissed each of my kids names and my anniversary date.  They were there with me.  In my heart.  They led us to victory.  We moved off the rink and continued celebrating.  While the vex on Thursdaynight was sweet, nothing will ever taste as glorious as that drink of pink champagne out of the VASHL cup. 

Through the battles, the friendship, the love, the alteration of minds and souls that occurred that weekend, I would always remember that you never give up.  Even when you think you have done something to destroy yourself and your team, get up, hydrate and believe in yourself and your teammates.  Believe in the love around you and the love inside you.  Remember that it is an honor and a privilege to battle and love with friends.  When the Reapers did that, we changed things, we did what no one (us included) would have ever expected.  A photo of me, after the win, standing beside the car, said everything that needed to be said about the tournament.  I was standing up, a champion, and my heart was full.  (A year later as I write this, my VASHL Cup continues to overflow – with love for these crazy folks.  See you soon!)

May 21 2013

What’s A Five-Year-Anniversary Mean to a Three-Year-Player?

By Dylan Gonzalez

Dylan GonzalezSummer, 2010.

What’s a summer bound college student, straight out of their freshman year, to do with one’s self?  I chose to largely sit on my ass.  Looking back on it, I can only recall one truly significant moment, during the month of August.  I made my way down very early on a Saturday morning to join up with a group of fellow Kevin Smith fans on the day of his 40th birthday.  We were partaking in an annual pilgrimage to Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash and then venturing on a tour of several local landmarks the filmmaker had used in his films.

I had no fucking inkling as to what I was getting myself into.

While at lunch with this ragtag group of fans, somebody (myself or otherwise) mentioned the Walter Gretsky Street Hockey Tournament. I knew it had occurred for the second time that year and it had certainly piqued my interest.  My soon-to-be VASHL mentor, Jaemeel Robinson, said something along the lines of “We’re getting old, you should play.”[1]  I wanted to go mostly for two reasons: 1. To see this amazing group of people again. 2. The drinking age was only 20.

I just never expected my parents to let me go to Canada with a bunch of people I barely knew to play hockey.  By that time, I was not much into sports, so my dad, who had coached soccer at my
elementary and high schools (including myself) and was an avid fan of all the major leagues, found it especially baffling.  Needless to say, when I ran it by them, they were still okay with it and
gave me the go ahead.

I took my first plane ride up to Toronto in 2011 and was soon on my way to Brantford after getting picked.

It was a surreal situation to say the least. For the bulk of the VASHL, I was the new guy.  To me, I was the outsider.  Sure, it was a welcoming experience, but it was a totally new one at the same time. I had never done something like this.  On top of it all, I was the baby of the group (then 20, now 22 and still the baby), so who knew what kind of trouble I could have gotten into?  I had just broken up with my third girlfriend, finished my second year of college, so of course I was thinking about where my future lay.

What the fuck were my parents thinking?

In all seriousness, nothing happened that first, fateful trip to Brantford.  Well, nothing bad anyway.  Instead, I had a truly unforgettable time and became even closer with newly found hockey family.  When I stepped out of the airport and my mom picked me up, she asked me how the trip was.  My response was, “Can I go next year?”

Fast forward to now.  Since Brantford ’11, I have gone back for the 2012 tournament and played hockey in New Jersey four times.  I have just graduated college and despite all the unpacking, I know I have to pack up part of it again next week to get ready for Brantford 2013.  But this year’s tournament is a little special. The 2013 tournament marks the five-year-anniversary of the event.

So, what does that mean to somebody who has only been playing in it for three years?  Well, I can never claim the title of OG VASHL, that’s for sure.  But at the end of the day, I really don’t think it means a damn thing.  What really matters is the fact that I was offered the chance to join the ranks of one of the most committed groups of people that I have ever encountered.  I really don’t know of a group like the VASHL. Their dedication and integrity is unmatched and of course, they know how to have a good time.

Anniversary or not, I am gearing up for Brantford 2013 like it was any other time we were getting together to play hockey.  We always go for the hockey, but I always go for the people.

[1] Having now played for three years, age has little impact on the VASHL, when taking in account the ages of Darryl Clarke and Paul Saunders, whose combined ages total 4,958,393.

May 20 2013

Talking Out My Five Hole With Dawn Authier

Episode One: 

“A League Of Our Own” Or “It Dries On White And Crusty, eh?”

Out my five holeA long time ago, in a Canadian providence far, far away….

Did anyone else just hear an orchestra led by John Williams? Hmm…

Where was I? Oh yeah!

Back in March of 2009, Kevin Smith posted the following on his message baord at ViewAskew.com (do not go there now, it shut down years ago):

“Christmas comes early: I will sponsor any board teams. You pick your players, your names, your jerseys, I’ll pay your entrance fee.

I suggest putting together teams of 6 (four, a goalie, and an alt). The play is broken into two 15 minute periods, so one alternate should be fine. Don’t know if there’s even 18 eligible players on this board (and by “eligible”, I mean “willing to make the trip to Brantford”), but I’ll take care of up to three teams’ tournament entrance fees.

C’mon, motherfuckers: you know you wanna score on me.”

That post set off a chain of events that changed the lives of many people forever.

Myself included.

The teams that first year were Puck U (Kevin’s team), The Leonardo Reapers (Captained by Mark Diccico), The Monroeville Zombies (Captained by Mark Bell) and the Vulgarians (Captained by Michael McCutcheon and mentioned last because they always come in first…or so they like to boast).

Me? I saw the post but did not inquire on joining any of the teams. I was out of shape, never played on a team except for a game of pick up baseball or football and lastly, I’m a girl (I know. I am as shocked as you are). Other than Kevin’s team, it was a sausage fest and I myself prefer the fish.

So after my best friend (whom I also met through that same message board) asked if me and my girlfriend wanted to go up there to watch and root the teams on, I got our passports and packed our bags for our three hour trip to the motherland.

Brantford, Ontario Canada.

Birthplace of the telephone and The Great One.

Wayne Gretzky and an even greater one, his father Walter.

If you do not know who Walter Gretzky is, first of all, shame on you (though I never heard of him until 2009). Other than the late Ernie Harwell (google it fuckers), I have never met a more kind and generous man. He always made it a point to visit with every team, at every rink, and say hello to and thank as many people as possible for coming.

So Kt, Amanda and I traveled into Brantford and for three days, hung out with fellow boardies and watched them play hockey.

Then something happened:

I opened my big fat mouth.

I mentioned out loud to Kt that street hockey looked like fun. Then she turned and looked at me and said, “It does. We should totally start a girl’s team.”

Maybe she didn’t hear me right. I said, “It looked like fun.” Not, “Wow. All that dry heaving from running up and down the rink sure looks like something I want to do for 30 minutes at a time!! Golly geez whiz!”

No matter, within a day, we had the makings of what would be the all girls team for the VASHL. The View Askew Girls or The V.A.G. for short (one of the most popular jerseys I always find from the comments at the tournament as well as in your local lesbian bar).

On the last night we all decided to go to a local strip club called “Seductions.” A bar where, to quote Brian “Tennesee” Maxwell, “We should go there, kick open the door and yell “TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!”

Not an exact quote but work with me here.

In my car were Grace, Kt, Amanda, I think Brad (or Paul, not sure) and myself. Well, we got lost. So we see a casino and pop in thinking, someone here has to know where this fucking place is. We see a couple walking from the door and Grace rolls down her window and asks, “Excuse me. Do either of you know where we can find Seductions?”

To which the guy says, “Not right now.”

I never laughed so damn hard. I had tears coming from my eyes. Amazingly, we did not crash into anything. We saw a little old man on a tricycle but thought better than to ask.

It was at that club that I learned never, ever put a Canadian five dollar bill into my mouth ever again. If you do not know why, just get the mental image of the face huggers from “Alien” only replace them with Canadian beaver.

I also learned that, while the majority of the dancers were “natural” they needed to have a mesquito bite their chests a few more times. I was beginning to feel like any second, Chris Hanson from  “To catch a Predator” was going to come in and ask *why I was looking at underage kids dancing on a stage.

The highlight of the whole trip had to be Kt and her sunburn. She got a very lively sunburn on her chest and everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, remarked on it.

“That is one nasty burn you got there eh?”

The best was this little old Canadian couple in the supermarket across the street. The little old lady remarked on her burn and then offered the following home remedy:

“My doctor told me that when you get a bad sunburn, you should put Milk of Magnesia on it. Sure it dries on white and crusty but it soothes the burn.”

Considering the combination of the location of her burn and white and crusty, I was having a damn hard time not pissing myself from laughing.

Who knew a medicated “money shot” was good for sunburns?

Ron Jeremy maybe?

Anyway, long story short (too late), that weekend, many strangers got together. Some to play hockey. Others to watch and root them on.

All leaving as if they found family.

Granted, family some may fondle but family none the less.

Oh shit, is that Chris Hanson!?!

Until next time.

*I assure you, all the dancers were of legal age.

Jun 03 2012

Street hockey weekend a hit in the City of Brantford

Yeeaaahhh Jeff Mader & Sherman Barrington’s pic is in the paper!

J.P. Antonacci

BRANT NEWS
Jeff and ShermanSure-footed athletes and enthusiastic amateurs of all ages converged on the Steve Brown Sports Complex at Lions Park this weekend to raise money for The Lung Association by playing the game that put Brantford on the sporting map – hockey.

The sixth annual Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament drew 212 teams and umpteen players to Brantford, including a contingent of six colourfully-clad American teams.

“We love playing hockey, and it’s for a good cause,” said Mike Crandall of Rochester, New York, who returned for his fourth tournament. Crandall and his teammates were inspired to come to Brantford by American actor and director Kevin Smith, a past attendee and strong online booster of the event.

The Americans, who hail from across the northeastern United States, get together to play at several fundraising tournaments throughout the year.

“It’s a big, huge family, really,” Crandall said.

Each of the teams played several games and could partake in skills competitions and children’s activities, including a magic show, throughout the weekend.

But for many players, the highlight of the weekend was meeting Walter Gretzky himself, who unfailingly stopped to sign autographs and pose for pictures with awestruck fans.

Tournament organizer Sandy Lee worked with Gretzky at Bell Canada years ago, and organizes a golf tournament in honour of his wife Phyllis, who died of lung disease. When the Gretzky family asked Lee to take on the ball hockey tournament this year, she couldn’t refuse.

“They asked me, and I’d do anything for that family, so I immediately jumped right on it,” Lee said. “It’s been an amazing six-month journey.”

Funds raised from this year’s tournament support lung health research at McMaster University and The Firestone Institute of Respiratory Health.

The teams played through heavy rain on Friday, but enjoyed clear skies Saturday. The daylong sights and sounds of hockey being played at eight rinks simultaneously, with the excited players following hard upon each other to take their turn, left little doubt that even though numbers were slightly down from 2011′s record-breaking tally of 227 teams, the street hockey tournament is alive and well.

“Everybody’s having a wonderful time regardless of the rain. We’re a hockey town, and you take a look at all these people decked out in hockey gear, and they’re having a ball. That’s what it’s all about,” Lee said.

The players had fun channeling their inner Gretzky, but Brantford’s town crier David McKee reminded them what they were really playing for.

“You are here because you can breathe,” McKee said. “Today, you play to help the millions of Canadians for whom each breath is a challenge.”

via www.brantnews.com