I took the train yesterday afternoon from Ottawa to Toronto. It was a pretty nice ride. The seats were comfy and I had nobody sitting beside me for most of the trip, that's always a good thing. The views of the passing cities were nice, but nothing to fancy. Lots of grass fields... I think I saw a duck. The weird part was how fast we were going. I just assumed the train would putt along at 50-70k. But at one point we were beside the highway (the 416?) and we were passing cars and trucks. It seemed like they were going so slow. I saw a Max 90kph and realized that we were hauling ass. Good times.
The NHL Draft:
It was an awesome event. I touched the Stanley Cup, saw all of the player trophies, and nearly got arrested. I left my room about 2pm, even though the draft didn't start till 7pm. I wanted to get there in lots of time, and i still needed to get a ticket don't forget! So I get to the main bus stop a few blocks from my hotel. I really don't know if it is indeed a main stop, but there were homeless people begging for change, so i figured it had to be a pretty big stop. I asked a bus driver, who is actually getting off the bus for a shift change, about how I should get to Scotiabank place. He says follow me, and starts walking and talking about how the arena is in a shitty area, and they have special buses running to and from Kanata (the city where the arena is in) starting at 5pm. Anyways, he's yapping and telling me all this info, and I'm just trying to remember half the shit he says cause he keeps talking and talking. He tells me the that I'm crazy for going so early, tells me that i should have already purchased a ticket, tells me that Wade Redden, a d-man for the Sens does blow on a regular basis, tells me that the Leafs suck, tells me the Sens suck, and tells me to catch the 96 from McKenzie bridge and get off at Terry Fox Way. (last stop) As he finishes his crazy speech, I think I see a man by the name of Bradley Hamar. I went to school with him, and hadn't seen him in probably three or four years at least. HAMAR I yell across the mall. Nothing. Now, I was pretty sure it was him. After high school, he started getting lots of tattoos and pircings, so he was fairly recognizable. Again, and for the last time because i don't want to be that crazy dude who yells at people in the mall, I cry HAMAR. He turns around. Looks at me. Confused. Smiles. Brad! We laugh at the extreme randomness of meeting in Ottawa in a mall. He was on his way to work, so we agree to meet up later in the night when I get back to town after the draft. I catch my bus, and get all the way to Terry Fox Way, which takes about 35 minutes. Once out of the downtown core, Ottawa looks less like Victoria, and more like Ontario. The streets are all shitty, due to extreme weather. The houses are all shitty, due to extreme weather. The ride is shitty, due to the fact I'm on a bus. Outside my stop, there is a giant box store mall. Costcos and Staples and Canadian tire (Oh, My). Its about 3pm, and want to grab a bite to eat before I get to ScotiaBank because I don't want to eat pretzels and shitty hot dogs for lunch. I sit down at Montana's, which was right besides Kelsey's. I order a chicken club wrap. It was alright. I get a giant 56oz mug of Beer. It was fucking glorious. I finish up, and ask my server to call a cab. There were no buses that ran to the arena, and apparently it was only a 5 minute drive away. I sit outside, and wait for my cab, which my server tells me will be here 'very shortly' I wait, wait wait..... half an hour goes by. Still waiting. Its now just after 4, and i wanted to be there by 4 and my plans are not going as planned. I go inside, ask my server about the cab, and she says, oh my they should have been here by now. She phones and asked how long, and she tells me, shortly. How did I go from VERY shortly thirty minutes ago, to now just shortly. I say fuck you cab and I start walking. Now, I could see the arena from the parking lot. It looked about 15-25 minutes away at a medium paced walk. Off I go. I cut across this road, another. I walk down a dirt path, that I have no idea where it will go. I can see the highway. It is in my way of the arena. I keep walking. 15, 20 minutes go by. I am near the highway, and the arena. I can smell the hot dogs, pizza, and expensive beer. I can see the highway. How the fuck am i going to cut across a 6 lane highway at almost 5pm on a Friday. Well, my solution was to walk along side the highway, until I get to an exit, or catch a break in traffic. Easier said then done. There is a five foot fence preventing me and anyone else from attempting the ultimate J walk. I see up the road that the fence it missing. I cut across a grass field, across some property that is some sort of school for expecting mothers, and get to my best possible spot for hopping onto the highway. One problem. There is about five or six feet and VERY tall grass, taller then almost two feet I'm in already. I can see water. It is a ditch filled with water and tall tall grass. I cant jump, i cant fly, I cant go back. I stand there for five minutes. I hear a voice, angry. HEY, THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY! Perfect, just what i needed. I look back, some old pregnant bitch is yelling from across the field I just cut through. I decide I cant jump, I have no idea how deep the water is, and don't have a change of clothes for shoes with me. I wave the prego and start walking back the way I came. It is now 5:30, and have to walk back 20 minutes into town. I finally get back to a real building. It's Canadian Tire. I call a cab from inside, and I get picked up 30 minutes later. I get to the draft at 6:30. It starts at 7:15. I don't have a ticket. I start looking and listening for scalpers. Nothing. So i start looking for ways to sneak in. There is a door that is unattended, so I walk through with a group of others. Presto. I'm inside. Beautiful arena. There are two large stair cases to my left a right, and ticket windows in front. I decide to try the ticket window, as there are people scanning tickets up the stairs. I ask, even though I am 99 percent positive they are sold out, the lady for a ticket. She says... Just one? Yes, just one. She turns around, grabs a ticket, places it on the counter and says enjoy the draft. Just like that. No money, no worries. I got myself a ticket. I turn around and say to myself Well, that was easy. I walk to my seat, see all the trophies and the cup along the way and had a great rest of the night at the draft. All kinds of craziness. I know all the hockey fans read about everything already, and i know all the non hockey fans don't give a rats ass. I had a riot.
Meeting Drew:
I am on Drews couch right now. We met up last night for a few drinks and such. Good times. I have a lot i could keep writing about, but my fingers hurt from the above stories. I think ill write a blog all about Burlington, where Drew lives, in a few days. Until then.
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