Go The Dubs!

I am a bit of a sports (sport, as they say where I am) nut. I can hold my own discussing any of the big 4 North American sports. Hockey of course, is my one true love, I am Canadian, as Canadian can be, eh. All this said, I am glad to say that my love for sports, for sports sake was reaffirmed by watching a Gaelic Football match. The sport itself would be done a great disservice if I were to describe it in North American terms. I'd be willing to compare it too lacrosse, at least in that it is a traditional 'hard nosed' match, bare boned, mano et mano. There are none of the things that one comes to expect from a typical North American sport, like high priced equipment, flashy half time shows, huge midfield scoreboards; music does not blare during every intermission, there is no sign of a beer or hot dog vendor in the stands. The entertainment is the match, this is actually sport, not sports entertainment, there is little need for the pomp and circumstance. The Irish live and breath for this stuff, its a point of national, civic, and county pride. The athletes that compete, and at an elite level I should add are not paid, this is purely an amateur sport, played by men that have lives outside the pitch, and yet they are national heroes. It takes everything I have learned as sports fan in North America and turned it on its ass. Gaelic football players are the real sports heroes, not the guys with 50 million dollar contracts, the super model girlfriends, and who may or may not be a roid heads, these guys are real flesh and blood blokes, who play the sport for the love of the game and community, its refreshing in its honesty.

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Euro Trip

I have been in Europe for about 36 hours, and it feels about right. It is late January, the armpit of all that is wrong as far as climate, winter-wise if you are a Canadian, however, in Ireland at the right proper hour of 1:45 a.m. it is comfortable enough to go outside and have a ciggy in a tee-shirt...mad I tell ya.

As for my voyage, it was a haul, but it all ran smoothly. London Heathrow is a ridiculously large airport, it has 3 separate terminals, none of this whole one large hub thing that is the rage across the lake. I lucked out, Air Canada doles out free headphones so that you can watch the in flight movies. The thing is that the headphones that they give you have 2 prongs, not one,and the audio outlet on this particular jet was a one pronger. I struggled with this dilemma, and noticed that the fella beside me was also perplexed. We both got to the point where we were ah fuck, shag it, when I realized that you could flick one of the headphone prongs down, thus turning a 2 prong set into a one prong set. I was stoked, I choose my movie, Super Bad, and was content to sit and be pandered to. That was when I thought, buddy next to me had gone through the same frustration as I had, with those God forsaken head phones, and a good bloke would give him the heads up, right? And so I did. Its funny how karma works. That was the full extent of the communication we had had on the plane, but he was a brilliant bit of help in London. The two of us, both severely craving a smoke, after close to 10 hours without, both ran to the nearest exit upon arriving at Heathrow. I was a bit standoffish at, tis the Canadian way, we have problems approaching strangers (something about a black van, I think), anyway, I could tell by his accent (while snooping in when he chatted with the stewardess) that he was a Brit. Long story short, I asked him if he knew the cheapest, fasted way to Euston Station and thus Holyhead, and he did, oh and just for the cherry on the top, and to further prove that the world is a tiny spot, he worked at the Holyhead Ferry Terminal, which is exactly where I wanted to be. The morale of the story is to help a brother out, because in the end they will reciprocate, even if your problem seem larger than their's.

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Let Britney Be!

Is anybody else bothered by the way the paparazzi are harassing one Britney Spears? Question her sanity all you want, but how could any normal person cope with the near constant bombardment of flashbulbs, and the insistent Britney smile, Britney where you going, Britney how are your babies, Britney are you crazy??? Britney can't have a bowel movement without having it being shown and heard on Perez Hilton. The fact that this girl hasn't blown her brains, or the someone else's brains out, is a testament to her patience and strength.

Now don't get me wrong, it is hard to feel sorry for the girl who had it all. I think she shares a large part of the blame, she is a media whore, her erratic behavior only makes her all that more of an attractive paparazzi target. Its like the whole which came first, the chicken or the egg? Right now both sides are feeding off each other, but Britney is losing the fight, she is simply out matched. Britney is going to have to get away, a long way away, and stay away, become mundane, stop being the queen paparazzi target. The paparazzi will survive, there is always Paris, Pam, or Lindsey to fall back on.

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