Onward!

By Ben Knight

Well, here’s a novel suggestion for those of us who wind our souls around our adrenaline, and live and die with every move the Canadian men’s national soccer team ever makes.

Chill.

Gold Cup kicks off tonight – Canada v Jamaica at the Big Building Supplies Barn in Los Angeles, California.  Yep, same opponent as a year ago, when World Cup Qualifying began.

Yeah.  Well.  Anyway …

Not that 2009 is the year that doesn’t matter.  Sure it does.  But it will be three clear calendar years before Canada plays a game of any true importance, relative to its own future as a World Cup soccer nation (and all the cash and adulation that entails).

As always, Our Reds have been slotted in a Group of Death-like set-up, with the Reggae Boyz, a grim, grinding El Salvador and Our Old Pals From Costa Rica.  Outside of World Cup matches, it’s a group Canada hasn’t done badly against in recent times.  Heck, Costa Rica’s looked plenty darn beatable at times.  (Other times, not so much.)

So, for this fan anyway, this is going to be a low-expectation, high-study Gold Cup.  Take the scout approach, and pretend – yeah, yeah, I know – that maybe the actual results don’t matter all that much.

(If that bugs you beyond endurance, please just jump down to the paragraph below, beginning with UNLESS!!!)

With big stars like Dwayne DeRosario and Adrian Serioux sitting this one out, it’s a great chance for some newer faces to shine.

- Do Josh Wagenaar or Kenny Stamatopoulos get an extended run in goal, or is this former Toronto FC backstop Greg Sutton’s big chance to re-start his career?

- Young target-man Simeon Jackson has had a great run lately, both for club (Gillingham) and country.  And now that striker Ali Gerba is coming home to Toronto, will that put some extra jump in his already impressively heavy shot?  Swingman Will Johnson is gradually becoming a star with Seagull City SC in MLS.  Is this the time for him to claim serious international playing time as well?

- Is defender Andre Hainault ready for a decade of solid starts?  Does speedster Jaime Peters finally make himself indispensible?

That’s should be enough to keep me interested, and out of agony.

UNLESS!!!

… They start winning.

They did that two years ago, didn’t they?  Okay, they opened with a win, then got embarrassingly buried by not-even-a-country-drat-it Guadeloupe.  But they resumed winning, and looked set to keep right on doing it until they ran into the wrong side of Mexican ref Benito Archundia, the same demolition specialist appallingly responsible for Honduras-gate in Edmonton, WCQ, 2004.

Yeah, that hurts to remember.

I’m not saying anyone should even try to prevent emotional hemorrhage if every little thing starts clicking and Canada starts putting serious boot to CONCACAF butt.  And once we’re committed, well, who knows how it ends this time?

So I’m going for wise and impartial – at least off the top.

But ultimately, who are we all kidding?  A big win over Jamaica tonight, and we’re all helpless.  I’m just going to at least try not to volunteer for it.

Sort of …

Maybe …

GO CANADA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Onward!

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By Ben Knight

I’m really not all that surprised Toronto FC took the night off in Salt Lake City last Saturday.

Coming off the high of their great escape in the Voyageurs Cup and consecutive home-field wins over the utterly awful New York Energy Drink, the Reds had utterly no answer for a decent, under-achieving squad of Salt Lake Seagulls.

Altitude, time zones, fixture backlog – take your pick.  This particular 0-3 loss was well-earned.

Too many ragged passes across contested territory.  Amado Guevara’s backpass of doom that set up the opening goal was a perfect symbol of a lost evening.  This guy’s done it all lately, and once it was clear he didn’t have it, the rest of the roster quickly and neatly fell in line behind him.

And I’ve been sitting here for a day or two wondering why they didn’t adjust?  Why the Torontos couldn’t move away from serving up piles of pass interceptions and get back to the short-pass control game that served them so well when they beat Chivas and Kansas City?

Exhaustion, mostly.  Thin air and one more airplane ride, when what they really needed was some time away from it all.

Well, they get that now.  No more games until the trip to San Jose on July 11.  And that’s good for the fans, as well.  If you guys are feeling as burned out as I am, we all need a little time away.

So, then …

Midpoint of the MLS season, and Toronto has a .500 record with just five out of 15 matches left at home.  They’ve bagged the Voyageurs Cup, and have a tough home-and-home with the Puerto Rico Islanders, one of the very best teams in USL-1 who got all the way to the CONCACAF Champions League semi-finals just a few short months ago.

Key question: is this as good as it’s going to get?

MLS is a league with very little separation between most teams.  The money’s so low, and rosters so small there just isn’t all that huge an advantage in any game.

That actually works in Toronto’s favour, I think, because for all the improvements, this still isn’t a team that can consistently put games away.  They’ll earn their share, but this is a league where everyone gets points they don’t really deserve.

It’s a strange argument, certainly, but odd circumstances sometimes call for an unorthodox approach.  Toronto FC can certainly create chances, but they have struggled all season to finish.  That costs them points.  On the other hand, other teams in this league are going to lose the thread while playing Toronto, and that will bring some points back.

In other words, I think we’re looking at a .500 team here – at best.  Breaking even would be good enough for a playoff spot.  Much less won’t.

Now, as far as CONCACAF goes:

MLS teams got eaten alive in this competition a year ago.  Too many competitions and tiny rosters doubled up to just destroy them.  Only Houston even vaguely hung in there, but what few resources they could throw at the problem were never going to be enough.

Puerto Rico are an experienced, well-organized squad.  This is no breeze for TFC.  I think, however, with the time off and a good chance to re-focus, Toronto should be able to advance past them.  It won’t be easy, though.

Beyond that – well, I don’t think there is any beyond that.  A very tough CONCACAF group that includes Costa Rican powerhouse Saprissa and everyone’s favourite defending MLS champions Columbus, coupled with endless MLS road games, will certainly make or break this team.

Certainly, there are encouraging signs, but there’s still a long way to go.  TFC can defeat Puerto Rico, but they could easily torpedo both their league and cup seasons if they do.

We have to understand that the team which folded up and posed for Seagull City was the real Toronto FC.  A team is always a product of how far it has come, and how far it has to go.

The Voyageurs Cup and a .500 record is a first-half combo I think most TFC supporters would have happily settled for back in March.  All the roads get harder now.

I recommend settling in and enjoying the ride.  There will be some infuriating setback ahead, no doubt.  But Toronto is becoming a team that can thrill and entertain – even if the doors fly off from time to time, and the engine occasionally falls out and goes bouncing down the highway.

This was never going to be easy – or pretty.

Take a few days off, and get ready for a ride.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

Three questions:

1) Has BMO Field’s all-weather bubble assembly team been seen crossing north of the railway tracks to take measurements at nearby Lamport Stadium?

2) Is there a proposal in place to make Lamport Toronto’s new all-weather, all-year soccer facility?

3) Could this potentially clear the way for Toronto FC to play home games on grass as early as next season?

I don’t yet have the answers.  But the questions are solid.

Feel free to start asking around.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

This got lost in the post-Voyageurs Cup hoo-hah last week, but one last Friday in June means one more call for concerned soccer fans on Twitter to directly message MLS commissioner Don Garber on the sorry state of league officiating.

If you’d like to chime in, here’s a suggested tweet:

@thesoccerdon – With the U.S. through to the Confederations Cup final, what can be done right now to improve officiating at home?

Of course, feel free to word that any way that speaks for you.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

On a day when so much else was going on for me, soccer just kept seeping in.

So, I had a bad head cold, but it’s been gone for a week.  But, as often happens with me, it went down into my throat and turned into a wet, wheezing cough.

I woke up Wednesday morning feeling awful.  Yes, I have medicine for this, but at this point it would be another full day before I remembered.  Bens are like that sometimes.  Nobody knows why.

Wednesday was also about to turn into the hottest, most humid day in Toronto so far this year.  And, I had two hours of morning performance scheduled in my other career as a pre-school children’s musician.  I wasn’t contagious, and didn’t feel sick enough to disappoint anyone.  So I trudged off into the heat, and worked.

(Cue soccer angle:)

It went okay, but by the time I hit the couch and switched on the Confederations Cup semifinal match between Spain and the United States, the Yanks were up 1-0 and I was completely exhausted.

To paraphrase a wonderful beer commercial: I don’t always fall asleep watching an important soccer game, but when I do, I prefer Latin commentators.

Even a very boisterous Spanish announcer couldn’t keep me from nodding off, but his battering crescendos always woke me when there was close call in the game.  There were many – and they were all Spain.

A shot over the bar here, a pass just behind a striker there.  All Spain, all the time.  Some games look like they’re played on slanted pitches.  This one looked – what I saw of it – like it was on a cliff, with the U.S. defending the bottom.

No question there was going to be another goal.  But when I finally heard that call – that horrendous “GOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!” that I’d be beyond delighted to never, ever have to hear again – I jolted awake to the impossible sight … of the Americans celebrating?

And they did it!  They pulled it off!  An underdog side that was all but ignominiously eliminated just days ago, knocking off the Euro champs in a huge game that really matters.  If my only clear image of the match is that that Spaniards utterly dominated and the Americans found a way to win anyway? – well, that’s pretty much the central story of the entire soccer day.  Wow!

And then I had to go back out in the heat and play another show.

I actually felt okay when it was over, but utterly wrung out and done.

Back in the car, word breaks that Toronto FC has dealt midfielder/reluctant-defender Kevin Harmse has been dumped to Chivas USA for allocation cash – MLS-speak for money Mo Johnston can spend wot don’t count under the salary cap.

He’s the third midfielder cut in a row, following Johann Smith (yeah, I know he thinks he’s a striker) and Rohan Ricketts.  And in my not-quite-healthy, over-heated delirium, this is the first moment I’ve actually wondered if there might be some actual truth to the Julian DeGuzman rumours.

You know – great Canadian player, leaving Deportiva La Coruna of the La Spanish Liga, in town recently.  A lot of people tell me many things, and not all of them are true.  I do certainly believe the Reds have chatted with DeGuzman, and contract terms have been offered.  I’m also sure he would love to play here.  Some day.

Europe already knows how good this player is, and he’s got nothing to gain by spending four months in Toronto, even for DP money which I’ve been told would bring him a cool million bucks for the rest of the season.  There must be other offers – and they will be more lucrative, from higher-profile clubs.

Driving and fading, I decided to pass on BMO Field in the stillness and humidity, and retreat home to watch TFC and New York Enegry Drink on my couch – awake, this time.

Awake, but distracted.

‘Cause didn’t just PBS let fly with a documentary on the best sandwiches in America?  And I’ve had some of these!  Primanti Bros. in Pittsburgh, with the fries and coleslaw in the sandwich.  Schwabl’s in Buffalo, with the wet sumptuous roast beef and dry, salty, unforgettable bread.

I’m far too tired to resist.  So it’s sandwiches on the TV, and a grainy internet feed of TFC – who are wearing pink shirts tonight in a breast-cancer fundraiser.  The shirts are pale, and remind me of a long, strange night in the old APSL when I called play-by-play in a Toronto Blizzard-Ft. Lauderdale Strikers game were – due to terrible planning – both teams wore white shirts.

But I don’t have the brain – just yet – to figure out how to expand the Internet picture to the full screen.  So I’m drooling over All-American junk food when one of the pale pink dots on my computer monitor heads a pixel-sized soccer ball over the late-arriving New York goaltender dot for what turns out to be – finally – Pablo Vitti’s first goal for Toronto FC.

Finally, for the second half, I was up, undistracted, and watching a full-sized feed.  I lasted long enough to watch Toronto’s Chad Barrett slide a perfect pass to Dwayne DeRosario, who perfectly lobbed it for Toronto’s second goal in a 2-0 win.  I was sad not to be among the cheering fans at the end, but also glad not to be out in the heat, facing yet one more drive across Toronto on such a still and sweltering night.

A very long day – with lots of soccer, even though I seemed to be doing my best to ignore it all.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

Club or country?  Country or club?

It’s a big decision for top-flight soccer players the world over.  But in the strange, isolated world of Major League Soccer, it hits even harder.

No one wants to play soccer in Chicago in January, so North America’s top pro league plays a spring-to-fall season that puts it out of synch with the global soccer calendar.  Also, most MLS teams still haven’t proved they can stand on their own financially, so the league imposes strict roster restrictions.

So – not only does the MLS schedule frequently conflict with international competitions, the plucking of players hurts far more.

Yesterday, Canada announced its roster for the upcoming CONCACAF Gold Cup – and Canada’s three pro soccer teams emerged largely unscathed.  No Montreal Impact players are on the list, and Vancouver loses only temperamental front man Charles Gbeke.

And from Toronto FC, only midfielder Kevin Harmse and presumed upcoming signing Ali Gerba have been summoned.  Other countries are calling, of course.  TFC will have to spend most of July getting by without midfield go-through guy Amado Guevara (Honduras), and fleet-footed fullback Marvell Wynne (US of A).

But they keep two key off-season additions – attacking midfielder Dwayne DeRosario and muscular defender Adrian Serioux.  Both men have decided to put club before country.

DeRo made his intentions clear two weeks ago:

“I have decided to make full commitment to Toronto FC right now, and I really want to focus on the season,” he told Ryan Johnston of Sportsnet.ca back on June 8.  “It is a big year ahead of us, and I want to make sure that we accomplish what I want to accomplish here, even if it means sacrificing national team games.”

A year ago, this would not have happened.  Canada was entering World Cup qualifying with high hopes.  But all that came famously to naught.  Since then, DeRo came home, walking away from multiple MLS championships with the Houston Dynamo/San Jose Earthquakes to become the biggest signing in Toronto FC history.

And, since he said he’d pass on the Gold Cup, he fired a natural hat trick – in just 20 minutes – to ignite TFC’s massive 6-1 romp over the Montreal Impact, bringing home the Voyageurs Cup and clinching a coveted place in the CONCACAF Champions League.

Sure the Gold Cup will have come and gone before Toronto hosts Puerto Rico on July 28 in its first match in an international club competition.  But there’s also a six-team scramble in the MLS East for – at most – five playoff places.  There really aren’t any points in the standings that can be lightly or inexpensively given up right now.

The Gold Cup is a nice tournament – Canada certainly enjoyed winning it in 2000 – but DeRosario is locked into TFC right now, and a once-every-two-years shot at conquering CONCACAF just isn’t a big enough prize to tempt him away.

Serioux hasn’t been as vocal about his preferences, but he certainly could have helped Canada.

From a Toronto point of view, it’s not just the quality of these two players that matters.  Roster depth is a huge concern for MLS teams entering outside competitions.

The league allows only 20 senior players, and four developmental prospects per team.  That is a frighteningly small number – especially given that if Toronto gets past Puerto Rico, they will instantly have six extra Champions Cup matches added to the back half of their schedule.

A year ago, the MLS teams that got that far got shredded.  Lack of depth absolutely killed them.  The powerful New England Revolution had none of their regular starting back four available when they were embarrassingly annihilated on their home field in Foxboro by tiny Trinidadians Joe Public.

As good a joke as Joe Public ousting the Revolution was, it sounded a stern cautionary note throughout MLS.  And Dwayne DeRosario was listening.

Outside of TFC and its fans, there will be grumbling.  The old argument that the state of the men’s national team IS the state of Canadian soccer will be roundly raised and grumbled about.

But in this case, I don’t think it applies.  Canada is two years away from playing a truly meaningful match.  There are many young prospects and players to consider.  This Gold Cup is a golden chance to do exactly that.

In the meantime, Toronto needs to build on its startling Voyageurs Cup escape, and step up as legitimate contenders in a very tough division.

Right now, the Toronto roster contains just 21 names.  Gerba will be number 22, but will immediately be yoinked away to play for Canada.  Two more signings should – nay, must! – wander in once the transfer window opens in July.

Canada needs its pro clubs to grow, and succeed – especially while there are still only three of them.  A good Champions Cup run for TFC, coupled with some sound developmental work for the national team in the Gold Cup, seems a good and proper balance.

Consider that – for a moment, at least – before anyone mistakenly suggests Dwayne DeRosario doesn’t have Canada’s best long-term soccer interests at heart.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

Hey, folks.

Due to Duane being in Spain and Rycroft being hauled into a work meeting, we’ve been caught severely out of position as far as putting “It’s Called Football” on the air Monday afternoon is concered.

So we aren’t.

Regular service will resume Monday, June 29, at 2 PM on ThatChannel.com.

See you then.

Onward!

By Ben Knight

I’ll be honest, folks.  I don’t know how to put this into words.

Conveying emotion that intense, to tell a story so unlikely … not an easy task.

So I’ll start with the women’s rugby team.

They wandered into the back room of Scallywags during a lull in the action.  They had no idea – whatsoever – of the astonishing level of shouting, song and exultation that would soon tear from the throats of the fifteen or so Toronto FC fans who had gathered in the shadows to watch this hopeless soccer game.

The women settled in to a fine post-match meal of steaks, roasted veg, mashed potatoes and draft beer, laughing, smiling, bonding – and then the joint blew up.

Here’s the only background I can pause to give you.  Toronto FC was at Montreal, needing to win by at least four goals to claim the Canadian championship and a berth in the CONCACAF Champions League.  Anything less would mean the Vancouver Whitecaps – who had flown 3,000 miles and were getting rained on in the Stade Saputo seats – would win the Voyaguers Cup.  The Montreal Impact, the other team on the field with TFC, had nothing left but pride to play for.

Early on, Montreal made Toronto’s task even harder, scoring on a penalty kick.  No question at all about the call.  Newly arrived TFC defender Nick Garcia threw a flying figure-four leg lock on a luckless Montreal attacker.  Toronto – a team cursed, in general, with an inability to finish – now needed five goals.

I was downstairs in the bathroom when Toronto native son Dwayne DeRosario scored the first Toronto goal.  A freaking bicycle kick!  He threw himself down on his back, and blasted the ball – backwards! – straight into the Montreal net.

I was out of my chair, pacing, when DeRo buried the second, banking a 20-yard rip off a defender’s leg.  After that, I was informed by the other fans in the room I would not be allowed to sit down for the remainder of the match.  I didn’t.  Superstition is a big part of sports.  And I don’t argue with mobs – even small mobs – when they’re right.

2-1 Toronto at the half.  Tension outnumbers hope, but hope exists.

DeRo made it three, early in the second half.  The rugby gals were visibly startled by the roar that jarred the place.  No set-up, no warning – just BOOM!

The fourth goal was brilliant.  Toronto midfield free-kick ace Amado Guevara – already down three goals to DeRo on the night – decided to fight back.

But the truly amazing part was the way his teammates set up to help him.  As Guevara lined up a head-on spot kick outside the Montreal area, three TFC players inserted themselves into the Impact’s defensive wall.  The middle man, striker Danny Dichio, likely the tallest and coolest player on the pitch.

Guevara, seeing a wide swath of wall that would never rise to block him, ripped the ball a foot over Dichio’s head.  The back of the net – and the back room at Scallywag’s – exploded simultaneously.

Very surreal for the rugby gals.  They know now they’re in a room filled with maniacs.  They don’t have much of a view of the game (sitting under and to the side of the big screen), but must be wondering why a 4-1 score is generating such adrenaline-crazed thunderclaps.

The fifth goal – the one that ultimately carried the night – came off the forehead of embattled TFC striker Chad Barrett.  This poor, hard-working, well-meaning schlub has been giving gift-wrapped soccer balls to opposing goaltenders all season.  Not this time.  Guevara’s corner kick found the uptown neighbourhood of Barrett’s face, and fell dead in the net for the impossible four-goal lead.

And didn’t Dwayne DeRosario know it?  DeRo was the first to hug Barrett – and wouldn’t let him go.  They seemed set to dance back to the centre circle … except the entire rest of the team showed up to join in.

Ah, but it wasn’t over.  Games like this seem never to end.  The Impact may have been outmanned, outclassed, outmuscled and outscored, but they never quit trying to answer back.  Toronto goalie Stefan Frei was forced to make a pin-wheeling reflex dive save at the base of his right post.  The gasping groan from the fans was louder than your average goal celebration on a far-more-average night.

And then we started seeing pictures of the travelling Toronto fans in Montreal.  Leaping and singing in the rain.  Red scarves dancing and darting in diagonal swirls.  Familiar faces – glowing with unfamiliar joy.

Across the field, the Whitecaps.  Brooding, sullen – mad.

Goal six.  Guevara.  A nasty brute ground-level bouncer.  Perfectly just inside the post.  The backroom detonates.  I let the songs and chanting ring for two full minutes, and finally go over and explain to the rugby gals what’s actually been going on all night.  They’re sports folk.  They get it.  Big smiles all over the shop.

And no, I’ll never know why the ref added four full angst-driven minutes to the end of this one.  The Impact still fought back, but TFC kept getting the ball over the touchlines, eating twenty or thirty seconds with every stoppage.

At the end, drained, adrenalized and exultant, I stood on the chair they wouldn’t let me sit in, singing at the top of my lungs.  Our friends in Montreal filled the screen.  And then Jim Brennan – TFC’s first player, captain and proud Canadian – hoisted the Voyaguers Bleepin’ Freakin’ Can You Even Believe It Cup.

Bedlam.  Relentless, battering hugs.

Three things we learned:

1) Being Canadian means the world, the moon and the stars to Dwayne DeRosario.

2) DeRo and Amado Guevara can – most certainly – find enough chances and room to play on the same field together.

3) It turns out Montreal was the team in the impossible spot.  The angry Whitecaps are already publically accusing them of laying down.  Yes, it was their back-up goalie, two back-up centre backs and their best midfielder never saw the pitch.  But they were also long-since eliminated, and have a very tough, important USL-1 game coming up against Vancouver on Saturday.

That’s about as much depth of analysis as I can muster.  Normally, I can be a fan and journalist simultaneously.  But this wild, ragged night at Scallywags was all about being a fan.

I think I got most of what happened.  I leave it to you and history to fill in the rest.

Wow!  Wow!  Wow!

Onward! 

By Ben Knight

WOW!

By Ben Knight

I’m not in Montreal today.

I’m at home, in East York – which is a sleepy part of Toronto within easy walking distance of all this city’s finest Greek restaurants.

I’m eating boiled soup noodles, and gazing out the window at lush green leaves and a gray, yucky Thursday.

I’m trying to put into words how it feels to know I will soon be leaving my home, going out into yuckiness, to stand in a bar and watch my favourite domestic soccer team try to win tonight by four clear goals.

I’m now taking a moment (for those of you just joining us) to explain that the Canadian men’s professional soccer sponsorship – the Voyageurs Cup – is a double round-robin tournament that concludes in just a few hours at Stade Saputo in Montreal.

I’m adding an obligatory shot at Stade Saputo’s security guards, who seem congenitally incapable of noticing the bad behavior of anyone wearing blue.

I’m coming back to the main point that Toronto FC – whom I cover, cheer for and lament – have squandered so many gold-plated, gilt-edged, yummy-yummy-yummy-I’ve-got-goals-in-my-tummy scoring chances in this competition, they now must score four more than they concede tonight.

I’m adding that, if they don’t, they will watch a minor-league opponent claim Canada’s lone place in the CONCACAF Champions League for the second year on the trot.

(I’m declining to explain what CONCACAF stands for.)

I’m hoping you understand how huge and toxic an embarrassment this would be – even though both Montreal (who won it last year) and Vancouver (who stand to clinch tonight) are decent soccer teams, and normally I would be delighted for either one of them.

I’m a TFC fan just at the moment.  I’ll be a down-the-middle journalist when it’s over.

I’m afraid to have any expectations at all for this evening.  But they come.  Wave on wave, the expectations come.

I’m certain this plight tonight is the focusing point this misfiring Toronto attack force has needed all season.  That Dwayne DeRosario will show up with his A-game, and whatever combination of TFC goalhounds grace the pitch will get more than enough chances to score four goals.

I’m also grindingly aware of leaky-bucket slop-job Toronto’s back four has almost always been.  Newcomer Nick Garcia was just fine in the win over New York Product Placement, but tonight is a whole different level of nightmare.

I’m imagining a bar full of fans.  I’m imagining Toronto scoring.  The first goal settles folks down, but is not – in itself – enough to ignite hope.  Then comes the second.  Yeeps!  What if Pablo Vitti finally, actually, unbelievably scores his first TFC goal?

I’m thinking the third comes late – 80^th minute, or some such.  Hope’s alive and flying at that point.  Maybe newcomer Ali Gerba comes on as a late sub – and maybe he bazookas the fourth goal home on the ragged edge of stoppage time.

I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.  Montreal – whose thrilling CONCACAF run was snuffed out in February when they conceded four second-half goals in Mexico (two in stoppage time) – pour forward, set up a shot, it bounces off somebody, wobbles crazily towards the top corner, Toronto goalie Stefan Frei, wrong-footed, sees it, reacts, lunges, stretches …

I’m not even able to finish that paragraph.

I’m hoping whatever happens tonight won’t be that painful.

I’m wishing I were in Montreal right now – and I’m ever so glad that I’m not.

Onward!