Hockey, endgame

There's no hockey tonight, so I have some free time on my hands for once. And a 6 pack. So, I might as well just finish up the hockey story. For any of you showing up anytime soon and finding this, scroll down and read part 4 first. DO IT NOW. If you're reading this sentence, you better understand part 4...there's a pop quiz at the end. DO IT NOW. By the way, if you're wondering why the hell we went to Sarnia....Milo's dad lives there. It seemed like a good, quiet ending to the trip. This turned out to be true...and we had a lot of fun there too.

So, after singing terrible songs and escaping Michigan, we arrived in Sarnia at 1am or so. We bought a trunkload of beer at the duty free, so we were set. Pete and Sue (Milo's dad and stepmom) greeted us all with open arms, and we sat up drinking for a couple hours. I had met Pete before, but not Sue. They're both awesome, in their own way. Pete's a grumpy old bastard who's very set in his ways, but it's impossible not to like the guy. His grumpiness is hilarious, and he doesn't take himself too seriously. Sue is just straight up awesome. I can't say enough good things about her. She had beds set up for all of us, and made us feel right at home. I was lucky to score the attic, since my snoring woulda kept everyone up. Thanks for letting me crash up there all 3 days, guys.

After a great nights sleep, I was refreshed and ready to binge drink. Milo took me out to the other side of the city, where Mike Weir is from. We had a beer in his bar, and checked out a few other things. Sarnia's actually really nice. Honestly, it is. I'm not drunk. I'm telling the truth. After kicking about and consuming some wobbly pops, we went down to an OHL game. Pete and Sue were nice enough to score us tickets to a Sarnia Sting game...for those not in the know, the Sting are a junior team, who had the top-rated prospect in all of hockey on their team...Steven Stamkos. Milo's friend Mike came with us, and laid out the rules for me...well, the only rule. Never, EVER order a beer from the runner, who brings it to your seat...ALWAYS go up to the bar and get it yourself. They always bring you terrible beer, no matter what you order. Simple enough to follow, right?

Yea right. I'm a lazy bastard. Start of the 2nd period, I order a Stella from the runner. Sure enough, the thing tastes like paint thinner. I have no idea how they could get beer to taste this bad, but it was terrible. Why don't I just listen sometimes? Anyways, we spent most of the game heckling the other team and their fans, which apparently isn't how Sting fans usually act...oops. Everyone was pretty shocked at our antics...except Pete, who started yelling right along with us. Sue took it all pretty well. We almost made a 16 year old hockey player cry. It ruled. Stamkos played awesome, for those of you that care.

Next up, we went to the only good bar in the city. Seriously, this is what we were told. This was the only bar that any remotely attractive women went to, apparently. Uh, sure. The bar had a cool layout, and was pretty big...but the only thing I found "cool" about it was that the upstairs had a bunch of crazy metal bands playing in a corner, one after the other. Other than that, it was...just your average terrible club. Sans attractive women. I got bored after a while, but I didn't wanna drag the boys away from the ghetto poon they were working on...so I took a cab back to Pete and Sue's. About 1:30am. I just expected the front door to be open.

Nope.

Did I mention it was -20 outside? And I had no jacket?

It took about 4 seconds before I officially freaked the fuck out and rang the doorbell 562 times.

No response. Ohhhh no.

I decided the best thing to do was to try the back door...yea, that'll be open, right? After climbing their gate like a drunk spider monkey (and totally looking like a hungry burglar to everyone who coulda seen me), I got to the back door.

Nada.

Fuck it, I thought....I pounded on Pete and Sue's window till Sue woke up and let me in. I nearly gave her a heart attack, but at least I was warm! She filled me in on the fact that she gave Paul the key before we left. Thanks for telling me guys! The funny part is that she gave it to Paul instead of her own stepson, cuz she knew Milo would lose it. Ha. After I got inside and got warm, I laughed at that for a while and drank Miller Lite till the crew got back. Poonless, of course. I almost disappeared to London, but Kelly was goin through some shit. Next time.

Saturday rolls around. We all wake up, suprisingly un-hungover. What's on the agenda today? Strippers and UFC, that's what! After a few morning/afternoon brews, we went with Sue to her local pub for a bit, and got some "recommendations" on peeler bars from a guy with a grey front tooth. You'd think that shoulda been a warning that he didn't have good taste. Or a good dental plan.

There are 2 strip clubs in Sarnia...greytooth told us the other sucks, and to go to the "good one". We walk in, and see a table with a few women sitting at it. The first thing we hear is "Aww, does dis mean we gotta dance or sumtin?" What? There is NO ONE ELSE in the place. We are served a beer, music starts, and a black girl gets up on stage. Does she dance? Nope. Does she strip? Nope. She walks around the poles for a song, flashes us her tits, and leaves. We tried not to laugh, but we were unsuccessful. After a few more minutes of weirdness, another black girl comes out. Much better looking. She actually dances. Cool. She actually takes her clothes off. Sweet. The best part was the end though. After she finished up, she got off the stage, walked over to us...and proceeded to hug, kiss and thank all of us. 1 by 1. It was fucking odd. At least she smelled good.

We laughed the whole way to the next club, which was...a real strip club. It wasn't that busy, but there were actual people there. And an actual DJ (a midget, if I remember correctly...there was a midget somewhere!)...and actual dancers. I musta had a few beers by then, cuz I don't remember all the details. Like who the fucking midget was!

After chillin back at the house for a bit, we went over to Mike's to watch the UFC. There was also a Roy Jones fight that night that people wanted to watch...so Mike came up with the best of both worlds. He borrowed his friends cable box, threw a 2nd TV in the living room, and we were able to watch both at the same time! Mike fucking rules. Next time you're out here, I owe you a few beers buddy. After that, it was a semi-early night, cuz we had a long ass trip home the next day.

Nothing really eventful happened on the way home...except it was looong. 1.5 hr drive to Detroit...3 hour flight to Denver. Connect to 3 hour flight to Seattle. And 3 hour drive home. 3 states, 2 provinces, 1 day. Ugh.

In closing, I just wanna thank Pete and Sue for their wonderful hospitality. You're both awesome people, and Rob's lucky to have you. Hopefully we can come visit again soon. Mike, thanks for hooking us up in Sarnia, and it was great meeting you, the wife, and the kiddo. All the canucks fans we met along the way, thanks for being as drunk and retarded as we were. Hefty girl in St Louis, thanks for the boobie hat. Bouncers at every bar we were in, thanks for not kicking my ass. Most of all, I wanna thank Milo, Jeff, and Pauly for a kickass trip.

Pauly, thanks for always being upbeat and positive, and never getting frustrated with all the retarded things Milo and I did. And thanks again for driving the Langley/Seattle legs. I'm glad you got the travel bug, bro. It never goes away.

Jeff...you're a fucking funny guy. Thanks for making me laugh the whole time, and many times since then. You're the only guy I know that can go as hard as I can and still be standing and functional. I wish I could type out a Milo impression, but it's not quite the same. Oh, and thanks for threatening to kick the shit outta Milo when he stuck his hand in your suitcase...I laughed just now, thinking about that.

Milo, thanks for putting up with my snoring. Dude, you were fucking hilarious the whole time, whether you intended it or not. You definitely had the best lines of the trip.

Waitress: "How are y'all doin today?"

Paul/Tim/Jeff: "Fine, thanks".

Milo: "Actually lady, I feel like a big bag of shit!"

Or...

"These are the worst ribs I've ever had!"

5 minutes later...."These aren't too bad!"

Another 5 minutes... "These are the best ribs I've ever had!"

Priceless stuff. I hope we can all do it again sometime, if you bastards can put up with me once more.



Cities we checked out - 6

Hockey games - 4

Pucks in my beer - 1

Other canucks fans we met - Lots!

Times Jeff and I impersonated Milo - over a hundred

Women any of us got with - Nada. Ashtray don't count.

Bars/restaurants we drank in - Seattle 1, St Louis 10, Columbus 3 (for me, the rest of them, probably 8-10), Chicago 3 (other guys 4), Detroit 2, Sarnia 5, Denver 1. So 25 for me, 31-33 for them. In 10 days.

Beers bought for pre/postgaming at hotels/houses - 132. I think. And at least 30 on planes. And probably 40 more at the hockey games. This is for all 4 of us by the way, before you drive over and take me to an AA meeting.

Cabs - 12, plus a caddy, plus Oscar

Videos Paul has on his camera - 50?

Number of those videos Paul can't show to the general public, due to comments containing some sort of racism/sexism/pedophilia/beastiality/homophobia/etc...47?

Number of those videos where it's Tim doing making the controversial comments - 45?

Here's a few pics...just cuz.



All of us with the kickass flight attendants (left to right: Paul, Jeff, me, Milo)




Pauly and Milo, before the St Louis game




Me, Paul, Jeff - Savvis Center bar, St Louis




Me, Milo, Pauly - Savvis Center bar, St Louis




Warm ups, Savvis Center, St Louis




Me, Pauly, Milo - Ohio Stadium, Columbus




Pauly, Jeff, Milo and Me - Jordan Statue, United Center, Chicago. It was f'n cold.




The view Pauly and I had from our stolen seats, Joe Louis Arena, Detroit




Waiting for the shuttle in Detroit, with some crazies. I'm very far in the background




Milo, Pauly, Me - Detroit Airport. Not sure what Pauly's doing here. Jeff surprised me with the stupid camera




This has nothing to do with the trip, but my friend did this to her cat, and it makes me laugh. Enjoy.

Hockey Trip, Part 4

This has taken me waaay too long to finish. Shut up, I'm lazy. Deal with it. This will cover Chicago/Detroit. I'll finish up the story with Sarnia and misc. stuff in a separate blog. Game on.

There's something about Chicago...I really think the city hates me. I've gone out of my way to go there twice now, and both times I've been prevented from actually checking out much of the city. Last time, it was cuz I tried to take a quick nap at 6pm, and woke up 14 hours later. This time? I still wasn't feeling too hot. How the fuck do I get sick on a trip? I never get sick!

The hotel was awesome. Right on Michigan Av, across from Grant Park. Cool doorman, beautiful lobby, flat screen in the room (only ours though, for some reason), and a store inside that sold a shitload of meds. I told the guys I was gonna get super high on meds and take a nap, and they went exploring...but not before Rob told me a story about someone with my symptoms being left alone, only for his family to come back later and have to rush him to the hospital cuz he had almost died from pneumonia. Thanks, Milo. I didn't think about that at all as I was falling asleep. Bastard.

The guys went to Wrigley and did some other stuff, and eventually came back and got me after dark. Thankfully, I was feeling much better. After some food at the ESPN Zone (my 3rd out of 8), and a couple of beers at some preppy dueling piano bar, we called it quits early. The next day was gonna be a long one. Incidentally, it was the only night Paul and Jeff didn't drink till 3am. Those guys are fucking warriors. I'm still jealous.

I was sick, and snored a lot apparently. Milo got virtually no sleep. He was not a happy Milo...he even tried sleeping in the bathtub, to no avail (Sorry bud). We again decided on a cab, since it was just easier. Our cool doorman hooked us up though...he got us a ride in a pimp cadillac, with a stop at the United Center included, for the same price as a cab. Pics in front of the Jordan statue, and onto...Motown. I'm not gonna lie, I was nervous. I had heard some things about this place...

The Detroit airport was suitably ghetto. Getting the rental car was easy...then we ventured into the city. Rob accidentally popped the hood release at 110 kph on the highway and screamed, which was pretty hilarious. He had to pull over and open and shut the thing.

Hoooly shit. Detroit is the fucking HOOD! Everything you'd heard about the place is true. Times 10. Abandoned, derelict houses and buildings everywhere, the roads are all torn up...it was like a cold Baghdad. After White Castle, we went on a bit of a hood tour...hoooly crap. I thought we were gonna die. Thug Life, represent! I know I sound like a cornbread white guy from the burbs here...but eff off, that's exactly what we are! I was scurred, yo.

It got better though...there's like 3 or 4 blocks downtown that are actually nice. Comerica Park (baseball stadium) was fucking awesome. The 2 hockey bars we went to, Cheli's Chili Bar and Hockeytown, were sweet too. Especially Hockeytown. Was great hearing the story about the guy that busted in the front door and shot 3 people at Cheli's...that didn't scare me at all. I only peed a little bit.

We decided to park at Hockeytown and take their shuttle to the arena. Going down was great...coming back, not so much. Joe Louis Arena is the Pacific Coliseum people. 2 hour beer lines, 2 hour bathroom lines, and terrible facilities. The modern tech we missed out on was more than made up for by the people. This crowd was MEAN! It was awesome.

The usher told us we weren't allowed in the first 2 rows to watch the warmup, cuz that was season ticket holder territory. Yea, okay bud. We went right down, yelled some more. Willie Mitchell stared at us in disbelief. He was probably thinking "these retards AGAIN?!?" He busted out laughing, and fell down. That was all kinds of funny. A lot of the canucks were acknowledging us, which was pretty damn cool.

Right after that, the beer/puck incident I documented in part 1 went down. Fucking Matt Cooke. I still can't believe I didn't get one drop of beer on me. I sure got some everywhere else though...right when the "season ticket holder" showed up. HOLY MAFIA. Greased back hair, pimp clothes, whole deal. I was sure Luca Brasi here was gonna make sure I was sleeping with the fishes. I was done. Outta nowhere, 2 ushers come running down with towels and spray cleaner. They actually mopped up all the beer and wiped the guy's seat down for him while he waited. I apologized to Luca repeatedly and kissed his ring (not really, but it sounded good), but he waved me off..."It's okay-a kid, these-a guys are here to clean up. You mighta wanna take-a that shitty jersey off though". Who knew the dagos could be funny? Just jokes Luca, just jokes.

Game was incredible. JLA might be old, but it's got atmosphere. People booed us and our Canucks jerseys left and right. After the 2nd period, Pauly pointed at a couple of empty seats behind Detroit's net and said they had been vacant the whole game. We scooted down there, and watched the rest of the game in the 2nd row, bitches! We even got on Sportsnet finally! Canucks lost a shootout, but we had the best seats in the house for it. Thanks Pauly! The funniest part was that Milo, Jeff, and 2 of Milo's friends from Sarnia came down and tried to sit behind us...and got kicked out in like 30 seconds...while we yelled at them and called them seat stealers. HAHA!

We could NOT find our shuttle back to the bar. There were like 100 busses, all unlabeled. It was completely disorganized, yet totally defined Detroit. Pauly decided he was just gonna start filming people...he busts out his camera, and the first guy that sees the thing, 5 seconds later, walks up to us and says "You'll love this, guys!" He whips open his jacket, laughing, and he's wearing..a fucking CALGARY FLAMES jersey. I tried to boo him, but I couldn't stop laughing. No matter where you go, there's always one homo in the crowd!

We finally ended up taking a cab...and nearly died. The cabbie was CRAZY. Just pinned it the whole way...in between lanes, other side of the road, through lights, the whole deal. It was fucking intense! After we arrived and our heart rates dropped to normal levels, we found the car (and Pauly filmed me dry heaving in the parking lot...thanks buddy), and started the drive to Sarnia, which was about an hour and a half away. Milo drove, so he was sober...us 3, not so much. We sang Montell Jordan's "This Is How We Do It"...loud. And danced. And Paul filmed it. If he hasn't deleted that yet, I might have to pay him to do it. It's fucking painful to watch.

After some duty free hijinks, we crossed the border back into THE HOMELAND. The border guy said he was just happy we weren't leaf fans. This place was hard not to like!