First things first, as i write this (Nov. 20, 2010), the countdown to homecoming has officially begun … one more month ladies and gentlemen, one more month. Shout out to my Polish friend Adam who accounts for over half the views on the blog, keep making good sausages. It’s been an auspicious week for me, and also a hectic one. Let’s get to recapping it!
Wednesday morning: Now that I’m experiencing the Suite Life of Zack and Cody (living in a residence that’s formerly a hotel), what else is there to accomplish in life? The Suite Life on Deck of course! Coincidentally I walk past a poster advertising a semester on the sea. I’ll look into it to satisfy my unconditional love towards the show.
Wednesday night: Intramural dodgeball playoffs. As the saying goes when the times get tough, the tough get going. I’ve been struggling in the regular season, yet the team’s been coasting at a .500 record so I’m not complaining. Team Penthouse (top floor of our residence) received a lucky draw, we played a team consisting of elusive Asians who throw the ball like a frisbee, girls who can dodge and relied heavily on C.C. Sabathia (intimidatingly large black guy).
The games are best of three, in the first game we got slaughtered because we were over aggressive. In the second game, I sat in the back corner surveying the battle field…I quickly came to the realization that their arms aren’t good enough to reach me all the way back there. (besides C.C.)My teammates got picked off one by one, and I was the last man standing facing their team of five.
As a kid I loved watching Dodgeball on the Game Show network, and I vividly recall a game when my favorite player, Mike Constanza who rocked a Movember worthy stache all season long, on the C.P.A. (Certified Public Assassins dressed as Accountants) came back from a 1 on 5 situation against Team Sumo (it was actually a team full of Sumos who all had guns) it was pure euphoria… some kids grow up wanting to take the last shot like Jordan, I grew up wanting to reenact the classic comeback that transpired between the Sumos and the C.P.A.
I channeled my inner Costanza and made four consecutive catches, followed by a snipe to the chest of their last samurai. The benches of both teams got quite into it as I mounted my comeback, and it culminated to the “Asian vs. Asian showdown.”
Ironically, we lost the third game as their white nerd with glasses (who is destined to be a C.P.A.) mounted his comeback from 1 on 3 down. Team captain Logan sums it “there was no better way to end the season than the last two games.” One rule needs to be changed for next semester though, a catch should result in the guy who threw the ball being out as well as one of your teammates coming back into the game … in Ryerson intramurals only the former occurs.
Thursday morning: On my way past the lounge I spot a Teletubby costume in a grandmama going shopping carts. I responded as any 18 year old would: jump up and down screaming “it’s a TELETUBBY!!!” then ask the owner of it where he got it. Apparently, his dad owns the store that sells Teletubby costumes, and he carries the Tinky Winky costume around to promote the business. The other three are available at the store for 50 bucks a piece, full costume. Why didn’t I meet this guy earlier? It could’ve been the greatest Halloween ever.
Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. Anybody who wants an adult Teletubby costume give me a shout and I’ll relay your message.
Thursday lecture: Instead of the usual mundane blabbering, we get Frank Gunn speaking to us. Google his photographs. He’s the best in Canada at what he does. Period. The guy started working for the Canadian Press as a photographer at the age of 14. C’mon who’s so good at something at such a young age? Freddy Adu…oh wait nevermind… Here’s a compilation of my favorite Frank Gunn quotes over the two hours he graced us with his presence.
On the nature of his job…”Being a photographer, it’s addictive, it’s real, it’s fun.”
On his favorite part of his job…“I’ve been to every World Series and Stanley Cup final since 1992 for free.”
On answering my question of ‘have you ever photographed Kobe?’… “Yeah lots of times (fucker…)”
On the negative aspects of photographing basketball… “Remember Oliver Miller? Yeah him and Shaq landed on me diving for a loose ball once. That’s 700 pounds.”
On entering the workforce so early…“I use to skip class in high school to take pictures of Ronald Reagan.”
On spending having Morgan Freeman cook him breakfast at the Freeman household…“Sometimes it’s just fun to spend time with celebrities”
“Would you lie to this man in confession?” (this one’s a lot funnier in person when he had the photo of a priest glaring intensely at a Mountie making a speech, reason #413 I’m proud to be a Catholic)
On why he’s successful…“Show people what they can’t see, so don’t take photos from eye level because we see that every day.”
On why he’s successful II…“Make simple things abstract.”
On the significance on Journalism… “if we’re not there, this shit will happen every where” (the behavior of the police during the G20 riots in Toronto)
Mr. Frank Gunn has shot Michael Phelps during the Olympics, Sidney Crosby inside the locker room celebrating with the Stanley Cup, Barack Obama’s visits to Canada, etc., etc. but warns our class “you will sacrifice a lot of precious moments in your personal life.”
Having a chance to meet Kobe Bryant or sacrificing my personal life? Hmmm that’s not a very hard decision to make is it. When can I start SLAM?
Thursday evening: After being eliminated from intramural basketball and dodgeball, team Penthouse salvaged the losses with a colossal win: our two best players, Josh and Lizzie, entered a foosball tournament at the campus pub and won. The prize? Four tickets to an upcoming Raptor game, limo service included.
I knew dedicating an inordinate amount of time practicing foosball instead of doing homework would pay off…
“have you ever photographed kobe”,
one day, not only will you photograph him and feel his sweat and have him fall ontop of you, but you will befriend the nba-all-star himself.
hahahaha you make me laugh gabe.