TASTE THE EXCELLENCE: GILMOUR

If this were a blog about conspiracy theories about Elvis, I might write something like: Elvis is alive and well and lives in Tweed, Ontario. If it were a blog about poker, I might lie and tell you that Daniel Nagraneau and I went to the same high school and that he was a snob. More likely I would write that I once saw him go all in when he’d hit for trip 8’s on fifth street but still got beaten by a belly-buster straight draw gut shot that Brunson had been checking on all game.

If I were 19 years old, tall, Dutch, had bad acne, loved Japanese Noise Rock, played left handed bass and lived on a houseboat in Rotterdam, you'd be reading how de muziek van The Boredoms betekent alles aan me en hun album Pop Tartari van 1992 is een meesterwerk en waarschijnlijk enige redden. I doden zelf toen ik 16. And that my favorite quote attributed to the band was said on their Anal to Anal tour and although generally attributed to Yamantaka Eye, sounds more like something Yoshikawa Toyohito would have said, ‘Het geluid is overal. Het is om het even wat. En wat wij denken is interessant, geluid, beginnen wij aan collage met het samen…...maar neem niet zo ernstig wat wij `aangaande het doen.’

With a few more drinks in me I may even tell you how as the only one of my friends who didn't wait in line for 5 hours (with their mums) at Honest Ed's to meet Mr. T that cold November day in 1983, (he being there to sign autographs of his book, "Be Somebody or Be Somebody's Fool") I was ostracized over it the rest of the school year.

But as a blog about hockey, I firmly believe that it should be about hockey. My wife, who I have mentioned before is a stone cold fox and therefore has had run ins with NHLers before
- once told me a story that I would like to relate to you. I haven’t written about it already because it does somewhat besmirch a former Leaf Captain, and truth be told it’s not much of a story. In fact it might even be kinda crap and no matter how much tissue I stuff into it (see opening paragraph) my tits still look small in this bra, you know. Regardless – it’s the dog days, and what do you want – another story about Sundin?

My wife is a straight shooter so I believe her about this but I also know that she takes glee in insulting the Leafs - so buyer beware.
She was watching our nephew once in 2002 while shopping at Sherway Gardens. The very same mall I met Tomas Kaberle and Gary Roberts (the 2nd time). Her nephew, being the good Toronto boy he is, happened to be wearing a Leafs jersey that day, and not just any Leafs jersey but a Doug Gilmour Leafs jersey. Imagine their surprise when who happens to walk past them at the mall but Dougie Gilmour. Now you have to understand, this is new millennium Dougie: it's suits Dougie. Not mullett-with-his-teeth-out-trying-to-make-some-dying-children-laugh-at-Sick-Kids-and-makes-the-cover-of-the-Sun-Dougie. This is future Leaf GM Dougie Gilmour. He is groomed.

My wife approached him and called out his name. He ignored her. This left my nephew wondering why one of his Leaf heroes was treating him like a bitch, so he called his name. Again, Gilmour ignored them. My wife called his name a third time, Dougie finally looked at her with what could only be described as the stink eye (see above). It was the 4th time when he turned again and asked her (and our 8 year old nephew) what her problem was.

My wife, who would take on Wolverine if he pissed her off, said back, "You're my problem." If she were wearing gloves she woulda dropped them.

Dougie, and this is the part that you can choose to believe or not, stood there for a moment - looking at her, then down at our nephew and his jersey then back up at her, a Mexican-Canadian standoff if you will. Eventually Dougie called my wife a bitch and walked away. What saved Dougie from the severe beating my wife would have put to him, besides the crack Sherway Gardens security staff ("What do you mean I can't skateboard in the food court?")was that our nephew was there.

Moral of the story: Don't take drugs or jaywalk.