by Nic Olson
Sunday. Grice-Mullen dropped the ball. Jim lifted his eyes from his New York Times Sunday crossword and asked rhetorically, ‘What the hell was that?’ I responded by pulling my jersey over my head and sighing in relief that Freeman landed on the ball. Louie snickered and said something about how the Alouettes are amazing. I shook my head. We won the game. We will win the game.
Nic versus Louie, Saskatchewan versus Montreal, Good versus Evil, next Sunday. Revenge: Part 3, coming soon.
Saturday. A dream since I was a child. Habs vs Leafs in Montreal on a Saturday night. Knowing he was in the building, I could hear Bob Cole in my head, frantically manipulating the language to make an exciting game even more exciting. Couldn’t have gone much better than it did. Dreams do come true. And sometimes they fit in better than you thought they could.
We woke up thinking crepes were a good idea. They were. We walked the entire day, seeing Habitat 67, river surfing, and things that should be seen.
Friday. Got to Montreal at 6pm on Friday night from a day at a house in Kanata, just in time to run home, get the tickets to the Tim Barry, Cavaliers, Northcote show, and just in time to have an impromptu street meet with two Gouds and a slice of pizza. The show was perfect.
Thursday. Left school at 12:45 and went to play soccer. Scored a goal. Left soccer early to catch a bus. Arrived in Ottawa for Tim Barry, Cavaliers, Northcote. Perfect show. Great talks. New things.
This weekend was too good. I can never complain again.