Perfect swing…

After the pre-game meal when he told me he was going to go for a walk,

I looked at him:

‘Really,

you’re going to go for a walk on the seawall with so many people outside???’

He’s like, ‘Yeah.’

I knew right there he had confidence.

I knew nothing was going to faze him.

— #14 on #1 in THE News

I remember when I was ten,

or eleven,

or maybe even thirteen,

and my best friend’s brother,

called us gonads,

and we weren’t even doing anything,

except maybe,

giggling…

I wanted to know,

What’s a gonad???

And as her mom was a nurse,

she knew exactly what to say,

and told me,

It’s a reproductive organ…

I didn’t get,

how,

that was something,

you’d want to call,

a girl…

And it made even less sense,

when I told my mother about it,

and she said,

Maybe he likes you,

given that I’ve always been one,

to bring along sandwiches,

or write a story,

for someone,

I really like…

Pre-game,

I was commenting,

over my back porch,

about how a leader,

creates space,

for others,

to shine,

rather than drawing,

all the attention,

to their own statistics…

I also reflected,

on how the incredible journey,

to a Stanley Cup,

does not,

in any way,

shape,

or form,

follow a straight line,

of prediction…

The Vancouver Canucks,

as I now know them,

are growing exponentially…

For the last sixty plus days,

and the regular season previous,

THIS team has been engaged,

in a series,

of situations,

they’ve never experienced before,

at a turnover,

that is occurring,

faster than,

Tim Thomas,

can take it,

outside the paint…

And with such efficiency,

the primacy,

of production,

falls away,

into something more,

through definitively less,

opportunity,

as evidenced,

by attending to,

extraordinary bounces…

After The Vancouver Canucks’,

game five,

shutout victory,

over the Boston Bruins,

I had a dream,

in which,

I was speaking with a Swedish woman,

who was wearing,

a Norwegian sweater…

I have no idea what it means,

but there was a tonne of grace,

dignity,

and purpose,

to our interaction,

that I could put,

my middle finger on,

and take directly into,

a wrap around,

go ahead,

double OT,

goal from the point,

that will make,

grown men,

and women,

cry,

like babies,

for Christ’s sake…

And if that doesn’t happen,

something else will,

because early,

this morning,

I woke up,

from a dream,

where I was,

inside Roberto’s house,

watching an electrician,

re-fusing,

his wiring…

And with the tuning,

out of my hands,

I anxiously,

splashed around,

in the choppy water,

of his bird bath,

chirping,

about how,

yesterday’s business,

needs to be,

felt completely,

before history,

will want,

to stop,

repeating itself…