ScatterShot

 

Yesterday I took my filled-out forms and old Canadian passport to UPS, and planned to ship it to renewal headquarters in Quebec to get a new one (please no riots, please no riots).  After a healthy wait in line, the guy had me filling out forms like I was filing for citizenship, not just sending documents for proof of it.  And then this:

Yeah, there’s a lot of paperwork, man.  The Canadian border people can be a little facetious.

Still struggling to imagine what he thinks “facetious” means.

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Aside from the Hockey Greats Fantasy Camp that my Dad, brother and I run (which is partly for charity, partly for us to hemmorhage ungodly amounts of money into), I have another event to promote:

For those of you in Kelowna, BC (my hometown), my brother is putting on a beer and burger charity event (100% of money is donated) for Spinal Cord Research, through the Rick Hansen Foundation.

Last year, Josh Gorges and his buddies were a part of it, and will be again this year.  It’s $20, which gets you a burger and two beers, there’s an auction with some sports memorabilia, and it’s at Sturgeon Hall Pub June 12th.  Last year Ryan Cuthbert bought a cherry pie for $150, just so you know what you’re getting into.  There’s already not many tickets left, so hit him up at jeff.bourne@gmail.com if you want some. 

 Tell him I sent you…. and you’ll get absolutely nothing free, cause it’s for charity, tightwad

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Today’s links: My column for Puck Daddy on what PLAYING IN A GAME SEVEN is like.  It’ll probably run around 4 EST.  There should be a second one later in the evening if you care to check back then,  I just need to create that one still.

My column for Hockey Primetime on WHY THE TIME A GAME STARTS AT MATTERS, which is an odd topic, but I just loved playing day games.

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I’ve decided Brian Burke is “Kenneth, the bad-ass mail clerk with the heart of gold” from Family Guy.  Not sure if you remember him (couldn’t find video), but here’s the transcript of his brief cameo:

Peter: Yeah. The new owners gave everyone raises. Even Kenneth, the bad-ass mail clerk with the heart of gold.
[cut to mail room]
Peter: Hi, Kenneth. Hey, did I get any mail?
Kenneth: No! And if you come any closer, I’ll cut you!
Peter: Okay! Okay! Man, what a bad-ass!
Man: Yeah? Well that bad-ass just gave half his paycheck to orphans. Orphans with diseases!
[cue sentimental instrumental music]

They’re over.  They’re just so utterly over.

I hate being “that guy” before the fat lady sings, but what am I supposed to say?  I just can’t see either team – Montreal or San Jose – winning four of the next five games against their (more talented) opponents.  They could steal a game or two, sure, but I just can’t fathom a way in which they could climb all the way out of the well.

You know what’s an effed up, crazy, please-don’t-ever-let-this-happen possibilty? 

We see three straight sweeps, and never see a team push back in a series.  Both teams sweep their way to the finals, and Chicago sweeps Philly.  It would be pretty ridiculous, but too many upsets on one side throws things all outta whack. 

Here’s to hoping for Montreal and San Jose wins tonight.

Thanks for your patience!  Too many outlets, not enough time these days!

Go Thursday.

Jeff Bourne: 2010 Sledge Hockey Preview

 

For those of you who’ve been long-time blog readers, you know my brother Jeff is one of those people you’re blessed to get to know.

A number of months ago, Jeff was accepted to be one of Canada’s hosts for the Paralympic games – it took an interview process, and he was picked based on the pure fact that he’s so likable you want to punch him in the face (which I’ve often wanted to do for my own brotherly reasons).  Sadly, Jeff when through a tough time after visiting me here in Phoenix, and had an extended stay in the hospital.

Since “Jeff’s Ordeal” as the blog I wrote was titled, they found the root of the problem – a major surgery, endless staples to the head and chest, and a few weeks of recouping later, and the dude is good as new.  It’s not like he was a pretty canvas to disfigure anyway, if you get what I’m saying   {Kidding bro, kidding. …ish}

Anyways, what he is doing, is covering the Paralympic Sledge Hockey Tournament at his personal website.  If you’re remotely interested in sledge hockey (if you aren’t, you should be.  Check out the video I posted halfway down this blog for a convincer), Jeff will fill you in on everything you need to know as a tournament warm-up.

For those of you too lazy to click the link to his blog, grow up and CLICK THE LINK TO HIS BLOG.  Also, comment on it and contact the guy.  He’s just a fun person to get to know.  Learning Jeff-speak is like learning a whole inside-joke-laden language.  You won’t regret it.

Now, for those of you who were to lazy to click it, here’s what the Bourne’s newest blogger wrote.  ….But seriously, go read it on his site.  I don’t need any halfway committed sledge fans peeking in.  You’re in or you’re out:

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2010 Vancouver Paralympic Sledge Hockey Tournament Preview

-by Jeff Bourne

(Note – before you read this, check out HOCKEY MONKEY COUPONS.)

As the 2010 Oylmpic winter games come to a close, we now look ahead to the 2010 Paralympic games.

The Paralympics doesn’t have quite as of a rich history as the Oylmpic games, but still, it is a valid evolution of the acceptance of disabled people.

Here’s a Brief history of the Paralympic Games for those of you that aren’t as informed:

The games were started in Stoke, Mandeville, England in 1948, as a way to get soldiers returning from the 2^nd World War up and moving again. The current winter paralympics did not start until 1980 in Geilo, Norway. There was only 3 events during the 1^st winter Paralympics which where: Alpine Skiing, Ice sledge speed racing and cross country skiing.

Today the winter paralympics consists of five sports which include: Wheelchair curling, Cross country skiing, Alpine skiing, Biathlon and Ice sledge hockey.

I myself have been playing Sledge hockey for 7 years now, and have grown to love the sport.

For those of you that do not know what sledge hockey is, sledge hockey is pretty much exactly like regular hockey except it is played in “sledges”.  Sledges consist of a bucket seat with runners to hold your legs out straight and ice hockey blades on the bottom of the sledge.  Players use two smaller sticks with ice picks on the bottom to propel themselves around the ice.

During the 2010 paralympics there will be 8 National teams competing for the gold medal.  Pool A will consist of: The Czech Republic, Japan, South Korea and The USA.  Pool B consists of: Canada, Italy, Norway and Sweden.

In my pre-paralympic predictions. I am going to take the USA coming out of pool A on top followed by Japan in second place followed by South Korea and the Czech Republic. You may be wondering why I predict the Czech’s to finish in last place in pool A?  The Czech republic has only recently begun to play the game of sledge hockey, and South Korea’s world ranking before the paralympics was 5^th.

Pool B is going to be a more exciting pool to watch, especially for Canadian fans. I am going to predict that Canada with it’s home ice advantage will come out of pool B on top followed very closely by Norway,with Sweden and Italy rounding out the pool.

Some of the players to watch for in pool B are Norway’s Eskil Hagen as well as fellow Norwegians, Helge Bjornstad, Rolf Einer Pedersen, Tommy Rovelstad, and Norway’s goaltender Roger Johansen. As for the Canadian national team, be on the look out for players such as Billy Bridges who has been dubbed the Sidney Crosby of sledge hockey. Also, Bradley Bowden is a player who I would compare to Crosby’s teammate Evgeni Malkin. In goal for Canada is Paul Rosen, who is one of the top two goalies in the world today.

In Pool A, watch out for the USA’S Steve Cash and Taylor chance, who have a really good chance of being in the top five in scoring when the tournament is all over. For the Japanese team, be on the look out for Takayuki Endo and goalie Shinobu Fukushima.

My final predictions for the Gold, Silver and Bronze medal would have to be Canada winning gold — I’m not trying to be bias here, I just think that because it is in Canada I will give them the edge. As for the silver medal I would think Norway has a great chance as finishing 2^nd with the USA rounding out the top three.

Well paralympic fans, i hope you enjoy the next 10 days of paralympic competition, I know I will!!

******

Justin again …Fine, here’s the video:

 

D-Baggery Transcends Race, Gender, Sexual Preference

 

Yayyyyy, it’s my birthday week!

….you don’t get a whole week?  Eff that you don’t.  Gotta find something to celebrate.

So, I was born on 12/12 at 12:12.  Hence, I wore #12 everywhere it was available.

My birthday is now also the anniversary of a less awesome event.  This Saturday marks the one year anniversary of the slapshot that hit my face, which I may have mentioned, was about as fun as hanging out in the laundry room with “the sisters” in Shawshank.

So, I’m gonna have my “year-in-review” up on Friday - a recap of my journey to becoming an engaged blogumnist living in Arizona (Friday, because on my actual b’day, I’ll be cutting and pasting magazine letters into a vaguely threatening sentence to send to the guy who shot the puck), with some pictures.

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Follow me closely here: Some people are dicks.  All disabled people are people.  Therefore, some disabled people are bound to be dicks.  I’ll do a Venn diagram later.

I explained it like that because the sentence “some disabled people are dicks” seemed a little harsh to lead with, but it’s true.

Similarly, during the course of the “lay off the gay slurs in hockey” stuff, I realized something.  Some gay people, like straight ones, are entirely capable of being assholes too.

The less-than-desireables, of course, don’t take away from the fact that everybody deserves equality, regardless of our differences, but lets face it - in every group, there’s some people who’d rather trip you for a laugh than give you a stick of gum.

I found that little tidbit out playing disabled sports with my brother.  Here’s equal rights at it’s finest: It’s equally possible that this parapalegic deserves a face-punch as much as ’ol walkey-pants over there.  When you get to the point that you can say “go eff yourself, a-hole”, because a disabled guy is an a-hole, you’re really seeing past the wheelchair.

I’d show up to the court for wheelchair basketball all excited.  Just daydreaming… So cool that these athletes exercise as-much or more than most able-bodied people.  So cool that that these people are making the best out of their abilities.  So cool that – “Dude, you just ran over my toe again”.  “Well then get outta the f***in’ way”.

“…Dick.”

Which brings me to some of my favourite stories of “true equality”.

(In my defense of the following, when Jeff, the bigger, stronger brother, got a hold of me, I was generally a pretzel before I could say “a-salt”.  I had about as much chance of out-muscling him as my kitten has of paving the driveway)  (….okay, fine, booooo salt joke).

1) When we were kids, we sat across from each other at the kitchen table.  My side was against the wall, and Jeff’s side had stairs (going down) behind it.  When I was pissed at him, I’d push the table into him so he’d roll backwards towards the stairs.  He started setting his brakes at dinner.  High comedy.

2) We had an elevator in our house, from the deck to the downstairs, where our rooms were.  The outdoor elevator had a sensor on the bottom, so when we were fighting, I’d chuck a basketball under there so it couldn’t go all the way down.

Picking on each other and fighting is part of what being brothers is about.  Jeff routinely shot tennis balls at my junk, because it’s really funny when any dude gets hit in the junk with a tennis ball, and I couldn’t move fast enough to avoid it.  Well played, sir.

He’s just about the nicest, kindest dude in the world, and the guy has played his metaphorical two – seven off-suit like he’s holding aces.  And of course, on the rare occasions he was being a dick, I told him so.  And vice versa.

My point with all this?  I’ve learned from my experiences with the disabled community that it’s okay to say this:  Some of the member of the gay community have been epic-level assholes towards me throughout my attempt at minimizing gay slurs.  Lighten up.  Just because I wanted a major publication to correct an article they wrote that misrepresented me as gay, doesn’t mean I hate gays, and doesn’t mean I don’t get to point out when you’re being d-bags, just like everyone else.  Cause you know what?  A few of you are d-bags, again, just like every other group of people on the planet.

Can’t we all just get along?

*****

And for the rest of you that’ve been ever-so kind and polite towards me…

It’s my birthday week yaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Unwanted Puck Bunnies

 

First and very foremost today, HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY to my old balls brother, who a couple weeks ago wasn’t sure if he’d make it to today.  Well he did, bringing his total to 10,950 days of not dying in a row.  A pretty nice streak to put together.  Very consistent.  Love ya bro.

*****

I’ve been asked what I’d like my intro music to be for my weekly spot on XM’s fantasy hockey show.  Yes, I’m still giving advice on fantasy hockey despite being below .500 in my own league.  Hey, Butch Harmon can’t break 90, take a hike.  Any suggestions?  It’s gotta be something badass – after much cogitation, I’m thinking of using the ten-second-in point of “Hip Hop” by Dead Prez:

 

Wow, that sounds a little tinny on the computer.  I swear that baseline is cool in my car.

What about something from my favourite band, Jimmy Eat World?  A little Pain?

 

If you don’t like that song, you can stop reading here and go back to Rick Reilly.

*****

Frank (the Tank) from Alaska has fired me a few topics over the past couple weeks, and they seem like good ones to address.  I’ll start with a fun one today.

Unwanted attention from “puck bunnies” (simply to be known as “pucks” from here out.  That’s how they’re known in the locker room anyway.  It’s been minimized to ”she’s a puck” due to the ridiculous amount of words that follow “puck”).

I’m in the midst of writing a column on the not-so-elusive puck bunny.  Her natural habitat is in the arena, and her modus operandi involves being ever-so-slightly underdressed and ever-so-boldly overmakeuped.  Yes, overmakedup is a word, just ask any middle school teacher.  The player’s Moms hate them, though their Dads are less inclined to feel as negatively about their existence.

The best of the best can earn an unflattering team-nickname-related monikers.  In my day, the Vernon Vipers girls were known as ”Viper Pipers”.  Please note that I had a girlfriend for all those years, as I’m sure my Mom and un-puck-like fiance would encourage me to point out here. 

Moving on.

But Frank makes a good point.  What about the girls who seem to want to be pencilled into that category?  What’s goin on in their kitchens?  The ones who’re conviniently (and conspicuously) hanging around the right places – by the cars, the post-game meal restaurant, wherever – even though nobody wants anything to do with them (“them”, being the specific, uninvited type).  I want one of them to walk me through their thinking.

What’s worse is that it makes it look like we, as players, support the pseudo-stalking.  No, I didn’t invite her.  I don’t know why she’s here either.  Who knows her?  If we find out that someone invited this same girl that’s been hanging around for the last three months, its a fine.  And nobody ever gets fined.  Some how these girls just keep showing up at the right places, like the locker room is bugged.

 I assure you, that behaviour is not encouraged.  My family doesn’t want to see my name on a non-hockey-specific sign. When the attention is a completely unprompted anomaly, how do you explain it away?  Why does our reputation always seem to be on the hook when some girls out there are simply a skateblade short of the scene in Psycho?

As I may have mentioned in an article that drew some uh, feedback, the hockey culture is incredibly misogynistic.  And I occasionally make jokes about oh, I dunno, the WNBA and the like, so I’m aware I’m no saint.  Thus, at the risk of once again putting myself in the crosshairs, let me lay out the reasons women should be at men’s hockey games (editors keep correcting my use of “girls” to “women”. I wasn’t aware being termed a “girl” was derogatory, as has been recently discussed in a comments section. “Lets go boys” might be the most overused mid-game expression in our sport, and my feelings aren’t hurt.  But anyway.  Onto the reasons).

1. You like hockey.

Crazy concept, I know.  A lot of women love the game for the same reason a lot of men do: … it’s great.

2. Your husband/fiance is on the team.

Obviously.  You’re married (or to be married).  End of explanation.

3. Your boyfriend is on the team.

Ah, the puck bunny loophole.  “Boyfriend” means different things to different people.  Memorizing a guy’s bio, listening to his interviews and staring at his picture may make it feel like you’re together, but unless you know his family, save yourself the hour of pre-game prep (minimum?) and go play Farmville.  Whatever that is.

4. Your son is on the team.

That should be the number one reason to be there, actually.

5. ….um… anyone got a #5?

*****

The floor is yours people.  Keep the sexist slander to a minimum, if you don’t mind.

Jeff Update

 

Life is a crazy thing, isn’t it?

Two days ago (as his ordeal was happening), there was a note waiting in his inbox.  It was from the Canadian Olympic Committee – he’s been chosen to be one of Canada’s hosts at the 2010 winter Paralympics.

He’s currently learning to say hello in a bunch of languages so he can greet people.  I teared up again.  Ha.

Three Things On The Way Up

 

ONE -- Sledge Hockey: Murderball on ice.

I’ve played the majority of all wheelchair sports -- basketball, rugby, hockey, bowling, kayaking, football and cow-tipping - if it exists, I’ve tried it.  And, I’ve been pretty decent at most of it.

My brother Jeff however, is downright good.  From being a gold medalist at the BC Disabled Games, to  dominating the occasional game of Shoot-The-Tennis-Ball-At-Your-Brothers-Junk, he’s always been pretty successful.  In following the family rules, he was always especially good at floor hockey.  Once you master minor complications like “how to move while holding a stick”, the game gets a little easier.

But obviously, hockey could never quite be the same for disabled players as stand-up guys.   Until sledge hockey.

These athletes are about to take the international sports world by storm.

In an exciting move, CTV has committed to showing all of Canada’s games in the 2010 winter Olympics.  Have you seen these guys haul yet?  You’ll be floored, unless (heaven forbid) you get in the way of one of them, in which case you’ll be iced.

Here’s what you need to know to fully enjoy the sport when you watch it on tv (because you will watch it on tv):

The sleds are balanced on two legit skate blades, with a third little one at the front.  The national team studs have the blades nearly touching each other under their bucket seat, where you’d need them to function like training wheels.  Your first time out on a narrow-bladed sled is like trying to balance in a wheelbarrow on a unicycle… not that easy.

The sticks are nearly flat (like a super-obtuse angle in geometry class), and have picks on the back to pull the sled around.  Only it’s less of a pull, and more of a “holy-christ that human is a missle in a bucket”. 

In a sentence, it’s a well-organized car accident.

And of course, it’s hockey.  The goalie has picks on the bottom of the trapper and blocker for mobility, and also (I assume) because they figured the only way to make hockey more interesting was to make the goalie be a human Swiss-army knife.  Less snow-spraying, more “yessir, no sir, my fault sir”.

Sledge hockey’s popularity is rising, and it’s rising fast.  Like all new sports, its taken awhile to come into it’s own, but there’s some extremely elite players out there that’ll make you feel really bad for doing so little with your four limbs. 

So here it comes.  Just another reason to enjoy a good ol’ fashioned Canada/US on-ice suckerpunch festival.  To complete my sale, give me 45 seconds of your time.  Click!  Sold.

‘

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TWO -- The Crown Float: Tastes like liquified angels.

This, my American friends, is what’s known as a crown float.  It’s 50 percent Strongbow (dry cider), 50 percent Guiness, and 100% better than what you’re drinking right now.

 

The black and tan is nice (Guiness over Harp’s or Bass), but not nearly as refreshing.  And you know what?  It’s not alone in the ”strictly-in-Canada” category for popular drinks at our local watering holes.  Here, as you may know, it’s standard practice to drink your beer with Clamato juice.  Not V8, Clamato (yes, that’s clam and tomato).  I loathe it, but it’s everywhere, and, I’m told, is the hangover beverage of the pro’s (where the US cure is the Bloody Mary, Canada answers that as well with a slight variation in the Caesar).

I’m not trying to sell poutine here people.  I’m trying to help.  Strongbow and Clamato.  Call us and we’ll ship you some, it’ll be popular I swear.

*****

THREE -- My USA Today Blog: My voice to help save the US, one beer at a time.

And last, thanks to those of you who checked out and recommended my first posting on the USA Today website.  Down the left side of www.nhl.usatoday.com, is the “Bourne Blog” option.  The better reception it gets, the better for all of us, because hell, maybe they’ll send me to cover something cool one day.  I’ll start planning for my trip to the 2010 ESPY’s now, just in case.

 

 

 

Bethpunked

 

Great news hockey fans – the US Open starts tomorrow.

So… time to talk golf.

The US Open will be played at Bethpage Black this year, which just happens to be located 20 minutes from my lady friends place on Long Island, and provides the perfect opportunity to explain what getting punked by your father-in-law-to-be feels like.

I wake up after my very first night at the Gillies abode (I’d just started dating Bri), somehow with the idea that I’d be playing golf with Clark (a zero cap at the time) in the morning at a course with the above sign by the first teebox (this morning is/was a major point of contention between him and I, my contention being that he’d asked me if I’d like to play the night before. Hence the somehow).

Yeah, kind of a nice course.

I crawled out of bed before six to get to Bethpage Black, a public course I’d seen on TV and dreamed of playing.  You have to get to Bethpage before the rooster is awake to have any hopes of getting on.  It was raining.

If the rain was a minor disappointment, the following was the cartoon anvil that fell and destroyed my day: I was informed by Clark that they suddenly had a full foursome (his contention being that they had one all along). 

Would I like to caddy?

Well no, I’d like to play, but I’m up, and I’ve never seen a US Open course, so sure. 

By the way, you’d have to carry two bags.

Really?  Shit.

Ah whatever, I’ll earn a little money.  Hey look, it’s still raining.

And so, this is how it came to be that on my very first day in Long Island while dating Clarks daughter, I carried two bags around a soaking wet 7,300 yard golf course at roughly 4 a.m. Kelowna time. 

Think Clark and his buddies have some laughs at my expense when they have a few gin and tonics?

In the interest of giving both sides equal time, I’ll tell you exactly what Clark says when he hears me bitch about that day.

His side?  I’m the worst caddy in history - and the only one to consistently hide under an umbrella while the players clubs get soaked.

Meh, they’re made of metal, and hey, do something bad enough the first time and you’ll never be asked to do it again.

At one point, it did stop raining…. just in time for him to tell me they were going to play 36 holes, the next 18 at Winged Foot.  That was the moment I realized it was all on purpose, and I was being hazed (though he still won’t admit that’s true).

All jokes aside, Clark paid me well and has taken me golfing a ton of times since, so my complaining has become mostly tongue-in-cheek — though I am seriously suspicious that the whole thing was a test.

In the end, who cares.  I learned this much:  I’m no Steve Williams, and you have to have a decent sense of humour to hang with the Gillies.

I’ve still never played the course.

Jeff "The Hammer" Bourne

 

Before I get to Jeff, let me ask, in Seinfeldian fashion: …what’s the deal with old people in check out lines?

Why, oh why, is exact change so crucial to the elderly?  What age is it that you realize that having extra change is the most burdensome thing to have to bear?  Plus, I swear on everything holy the lady ahead of me in line at the grocery store asked (after paying to the penny) “Oh, and one more thing dear… is there a fig section?  There used to be a fig section.”

I don’t want to be ageist, but come on with the fig line lady.

*****

Now, more importantly, I want to use my blog to mention something near and dear to my heart.  Sledge Hockey.

My brother Jeff is an avid player/coach/general enthusiast.  In fact, those of you who saw my Dad’s Islanders-Hall-Of-Fame induction may remember the Islanders bought Jeff a sled as a gift, which was a super-classy move.  Plus that sled ruled.

Whenever I play, he chucks me in some old Studebaker model, passes the puck into a corner, and blows me to pieces.  A quick explanation of Sledge for those of you who don’t know:

You sit in a bucket seat (with your legs straight out in front of you) which is on two skate blades.  You hold two Sledge sticks, which have a hockey blade on one side and a pick on the other to pull yourself.  You can really get cruisin’.  It’s full contact, and most of the players are better than you at it.  That’s really all you need to know for now.

Basically, I just wanted to spread the word about it, and if anybody is interested or involved, feel free to email myself or my brother Jeff at jeff.bourne@gmail.com.

Also, I vote everybody starts calling my brother “the Hammer”, because its the coolest sledge name ever, and he likes to hit.  Whiiich is a tad different from the Euro/Canadian hybrid style his younger brother attempted.

*****

On a totally different topic, yesterday I was listening to a rap radio station here in NY, as I tend to do, and I heard this exchange:

Guy: “I may be only 135 pounds, but I like them big girls.  140+”

Girl: “Boy don’tchu call me big.  I’m thick.  And I ain’t even big, I wear a size 19, I’m not even in double digits!”

Sigh… yes dear.  Yes you are in double digits.

*****

And lastly for today, thank you to Jay Cutler and the rest of the Denver Bronco’s for acting like 10 year olds, it looks like the Jets are in the running to pick him up.  Lord knows we need him.  J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets!  How do you think that affiliation is gonna hold up if I move to Boston?

 

Final note: If you’re into hockey, which you probably are since you’re on my blog, check out today’s articles on www.thehockeynews.com and www.maxhockey.com.

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