If there were some sort of drying rack one could use on one's liver, I could use one now. But I must hitch up my manhood and enter drunkenly into the fray, for the Ganza is only half over.
Wave two begins today with a doubling of the Ganza ensemble. We now have Slovenia, Vancouver, more Australians, some Regina, and a little extra Seattle. The love never stops.
Also:
The Stanley Cup has come and gone, and sadly we did not win. I was there, front and centre at the old Strathcona Hotel, drinking pitchers so cheap, I thought I was in University again. The Oilers hit the ice calmly, we were all expecting a win, especially after the game 6 blowout, but it was not so. Where are we left, am I left, after such a confusing relationship with this hockey contest, to at the end be left with nothing but disappointment. We gave this contest thousands of beers, horn honks, arrests and police hours. It gave us hope. Are we the less, that we hoped and lost? Only in terms of taxes. For we are richer in spirit.
It was a tale told time and time again in Edmonton, a small place with a big heart, stepping to best in the world and holding our own. I am nothing but proud.
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