Toronto Diary (Alternate Title: A Bunch Of Rambling, Semi-Amusing Thoughts)

[CamKneely]

Prologue: As soon as I learned that this tournament was happening, I knew that I would attend. Since my car is on its last legs, I excitedly asked everybody I knew from Pittsburgh that I introduced to the site (Bo, Carse and Wittgenstein) if they were coming too. I didn’t have a passport and I ended up spending a decent amount of my money getting a passport card in time, sweating out every bump in the road.

Here’s how my picture came out, making me look like Jonah Hill’s stunt double.

So Thursday night I throw on a pair of pocketless shorts, the bane of my existence but the only ones clean, and head out to watch the Steelers get cheated by the Patriots. My friends and I stop at a 7-11 on the way so I can buy a pepperoni roll and something to drink. I take my wallet out of my trusty Jansport backpack that I’ve had since high school. This thing has been on many, many adventures of mine and I’m finally close to getting rid of it because it’s torn beyond repair in some spots. I pay for my delicious, fattening treats, throw my wallet in the backpack, and off we go. After watching the ridiculous debacle of an NFL Opening Night, I go to make sure I have everything, and realize that I haven’t zipped the wallet compartment of my backpack. I think this is strange…then I realize that my wallet is gone (Morty Seinfeld would be proud of me).

I panic, searching everywhere that I can, thinking that I’ve ruined everything. My passport card was safe at home, but I had my ID, debit cards and pretty much all of my other important documents inside the wallet. After an hour of searching, I decide to let my friends drop me off at home. I figure I’ll just go to the bank in the morning, try to take out some cash, and order new debit cards. This would be pretty irritating, but not a total disaster. I try to forget about everything that’s happened, thinking about how dumb I was for even taking my wallet with me when I left to watch a football game at my friend’s house, and eventually get about three hours of sleep, with visions of miscreants spending my money after finding my innocent, sweet little wallet helpless dancing in my head.

Friday: I wake up, foggy but hopeful, and find out my wallet has been found right outside the house I was at watching the game. My friend’s neighbor found it while jogging, making this the first time that exercise has positively impacted my life. This is wonderful news, the only bad part being that I now have to drive about a half hour each way to pick up the wallet. So I do that and eventually get home, then Wittgenstein picks me up for the frightful ten minute sojourn to Bo’s house.

The trip to the hotel goes off mostly without a hitch, with two exceptions: I hadn’t crossed the border since my extremely ill-fated trip to Toronto with Bo in 2006.

This is how I looked back then, before beer and pizza ruined my life.

I wasn’t prepared for the inquisition (Nobody suspects the Canadian Inquisition!) that the three of us received from the suspicious border partrolman, and when he asked if I had anything in the car, I said “Nothing”, as in “Nothing suspicious”. Surprisingly he didn’t see it this way and pressed me further. I smoothly mumbled my way out of it, and off we went.

The other exception? Outside a Wal-mart that we stopped at near Hamilton, a late contender for Father of The Year found out that his infant daughter had to pee, and instead of giving her cover with a car door, decided to pick her up and aim her towards the highway. You don’t see that type of thing in America every day.

So finally we arrive at the beautiful motel that I booked, and everyone realizes what a genius I am, because it was cheap and had several amenities that you wouldn’t expect in a cheap motel. We get settled in and find out that the party is starting in Kingraph’s hotel room, about a half hour away from us. I put on my American flag pants (because if you don’t wear American flag pants on September 11^th, the terrorists win) and my knockoff Sidney Crosby Penguins jersey, and off we go.

Boom, sharpest guy in the room.

We finally get to Raph’s room, and start meeting people. I soon realize that my impressions of most people from online were way off. I quickly accuse TomKabs of actually being Habs, and everyone else of actually being Hokkeefan. Soon, we sadly realize that these conspiracy theories that we’ve been carefully crafting for years are in fact false. I also realize that KG looks exactly like the comedian Dave Attell did back when he had hair.

Uncanny resemblance.

Some ridiculously crisp 2on2 commences, with no lag. It’s like a dream. Every pass shot I launch from inside the faceoff circles goes in because I don’t have frames skipping and lags spiking everywhere unlike online. The only thing that could’ve made it better would’ve been the appearance of Habs and Clockwise. I played about 17 games in a row with various partners, then me and Witt snuck out into the damp Canadian night for booze. The only notable thing that happens after this is, after about an hour of trying, Chaos finally figures out how to get 4-player NBA Jam to work via the multiplayer we used for 2on2. This is an amazing development because we’ve all been trying to do this online for years and it’s never worked. Right after this we all leave, and I fall asleep to the sounds of the greatest American movie ever produced, Dumb and Dumber.

Saturday: I bolt out of bed after about four hours of sleep, and we rush to RealSports. We get signed in, then me and Witt go to the big grocery store downstairs since we have four hours to kill before our games start. I catch some glimpses of TSN’s SportsCentre on the TVs, and am amazed at the fact that they are showing highlights of preseason NHL games, unlike ESPN’s SportsCenter, which barely even shows highlights of NHL playoff games. I go back upstairs and eventually eat enough chicken wings to put a farm out of business. Sometime around here I meet shaftman, who I know is a genius because we’ve been Facebook friends for years and he always likes my hilarious statuses. He’s taller than me which makes me jealous but he’s still pretty cool. I win my first tournament game against some guy named Matt 6-0. I don’t think he knew what he was in for because he kept chuckling in amazement at some of my goals. He was a good sport though.

Then I got ready to play Egg. I guess this was her first game, and it was filmed for the documentary. Having a giant camera in my face was a little bit intimidating, but I managed to win 5-0. Then I beat Uncle Seth. I can’t remember the score, but he busted my shutout streak. We had to play each other again for seeding purposes for the next round, and he won. After this the combined 7 hours of sleep I’d gotten the past two nights started catching up to me and I was crashing hard. Me and Tomkabs went back to the grocery store and visited Starbucks so I could get a Frappucino. I should’ve just started grabbing and chugging pots of coffee, but I’m dumb, so I didn’t.

The closest thing I could find to a picture of me after I won my first three games.

My next game was against Sebe, and I took care of business. We tried to play on the big screen but something went wrong with it while we were playing, and it totally perplexed the “Stephanie Tanner All Grown-Up” looking girl that was doing the Twitch streaming. Unfortunately my win meant I got KGman in my next game. He’s been crushing me ever since he dealt me my first playoff loss ever in the 2006 Fall Classic League. I gave him a pretty good battle like I usually do, but he won 2-1. I thought maybe after nine years I could beat him with the Jets, but I was wrong. Next it was on to Icestorm. I came out desperate and scored four goals in the first two or so minutes. I was about to fall asleep after that and he ended up winning 9-7. I tried to go nap on the couches like KG did, but was kicked out by bar staff. They should change the name of RealSports to SpoilSports.

I had an elimination game against smozoma, and in typical me fashion, blew a two-goal lead with a minute left and ended up losing in overtime. I was disappointed but at least this meant I could try to get some sleep. Me and Witt went back to the garage Bo’s car was in. I couldn’t fall asleep and then I had to go back to the bar because Witt forgot he left his phone on a charger. I came back to the car and he went back to the bar. I tried everything I could think of to lull myself to sleep, including playing Pink Floyd’s “A Momentary Lapse of Reason” on my iPod. That’s usually boring enough to put me right out, but not this time. Eventually I gave up and stumbled back into the bar to catch the last few games. After they ended, Brutus got this shot of me looking like his less suave, drunken younger brother.

Finally, we all left the bar. Me, Bo, Witt and shaftman started walking in the vague direction of the Doubletree so we could continue the 2on2/NBA Jam debauchery. We had no idea where we were going but luckily we ran into this guy who was dressed fancily and he told us where to go. Bo was especially impressed with the fact that he had buckles on his shoes. I thought they made him look more like a wandering pilgrim than a sharp guy who knew where to find hotels, but we made it eventually. It was fun while it lasted, until The Sledgehammer Incident got us all tossed.

At this point Witt was somewhere getting sick and we didn’t know how to find him since our data was all turned off on our cell phones, but he finally showed up. Me and Bo decided to get a cab back to the garage that the car was parked in, and we knocked on the window of the cabbie that was sleeping in his front seat in front of the Doubletree and he gave us a ride, so that was pretty convenient. We picked up Witt and off we went, back to our motel.

While in the car I got the funny thought that maybe the mystery guy who showed up and won everything on the SNES side was actually trudatman trolling us all. We all quickly filed that idea away as ridiculous. When we got to the motel, I went to get ice for the room. When I turned to walk out of the lobby, I almost tripped over a girl that had stopped to ask for directions. I was amazed because she was just my type (think Nicki Minaj without the plastic and the terrible voice) and for a brief moment I wondered if KG had sent her my way with some of his prize winnings. I watched her get back in her car and drive away, and I’m sure the fact that a girl that looked like her was at a hotel after 2 AM asking for directions was just a funny coincidence and she totally wasn’t a call girl. I then cursed myself for not having one more beer before we left Raph’s room because if I had I totally would’ve put the moves on her. At least I got to see Witt puke his guts out into a trash can outside the motel right before this, so I got some entertainment.

Sunday: We got packed up (I lost my wallet again inside our room) and hit the road. We ate at some restaurant called The Swiss Chalet, and it was just totally awful. I was the only one of us that cleaned my plate, but I only did it because I like to finish what I start, not because it was good. We made it back across the border uneventfully, and the trip was over.

Epilogue: I went to Wendy’s with some of my friends right after I got home. The service was non-existent and the workers actually ignored our orders until we got annoyed enough to tell the manager. I got a refund for this gross incompetence, and that’s when I realized I was truly back in America, home of the entitled fast food worker.

[Uncle Seth]

Well done man, hilarious stuff.

[kingraph]

Great story, I laughed a bunch!

[jer_33]

Perfect summary, thanks.

..and congrats on the pants.

[Brutus]

Great post bro. Be sure to sure to save up a few bucks for a flight/bus/train out to Chicago some time and I'll put you up at hotel Brutus and have fun at my wife's expense and tell her your my long lost brother that was given up for adoption.

Bring Witty & Bo and the pizza/beer's on me as well, and it magically would equal 4, a perfect 2v2 combo.

I'll leave the guest room all decorated in pink just for you because I have the feeling you'd appreciate it as long as some 'floyd was playing w/ it.

Good laughs reading that. I think all of us had that ALMOST not going to make it, but 1000% glad we did after. And, I don't know HOW you made it to the hotel Saturday night, because you looked DEAD even before you played SMOZ, which was like 5 hours before that!

Edited September 15, 2015 by Brutus

[IAmFleury'sHipCheck]

I had no idea you had such crazy adventures but awesome recap, VC... f'ing hilarious!

I about just fell out of my chair on the Stephanie Tanner all grown up comment. hahaha

[Sdogg]

^{Cool, I need to attend the next one....made it to the mini CT tourney, and it was very cool from what I can recall}

Edited September 16, 2015 by Sdogg

[Wittgenstein]

Great post bro. Be sure to sure to save up a few bucks for a flight/bus/train out to Chicago some time and I'll put you up at hotel Brutus and have fun at my wife's expense and tell her your my long lost brother that was given up for adoption.

Bring Witty & Bo and the pizza/beer's on me as well, and it magically would equal 4, a perfect 2v2 combo.

That would be awesome. I would definitely be down for doing that sometime. Maybe we can make it out if you get a Chicago tourney going.

Edited September 16, 2015 by Wittgenstein

[aqualizard]

Swiss Chalet is usually pretty good, for glorified fast food. It is also a super Canadian thing to eat, so I salute your instincts. Rotisserie chicken with their greasy French fries and delicious chalet dipping sauce is a great meal when hung over.

But, you must stick to the chicken and fries. No fish or ribs or chicken pot pies, just the rotisserie chicken and fresh cut fries with sauce.

[CamKneely]

Haha, I didn't realize it was glorified fast food. It looked like a diner to me.

[smozoma]

Swiss Chalet is usually pretty good, for glorified fast food. It is also a super Canadian thing to eat, so I salute your instincts. Rotisserie chicken with their greasy French fries and delicious chalet dipping sauce is a great meal when hung over.

But, you must stick to the chicken and fries. No fish or ribs or chicken pot pies, just the rotisserie chicken and fresh cut fries with sauce.

I didn't even know they had those other things at Swiss Chalet