Pan Am Fun and Pan Am Games: Day 7

Today was unique in that not only could I not find my boat, but I couldn’t find anyone else’s boat either. Maybe that’s because I got to the Henley course after all the races had ended. I did have thirty minutes of sleep for every Canadian medal, so I felt like I was at least still a part of it, but I was late out of the gates and there was an accident on the DVP so as soon as I got there it was already time to leave. With no offence to Team Canada, I was more frustrated with my own boat situation rather than missing out on theirs, because I knew they'd been rowing daily since they arrived and I hadn't taken a stroke on the water in three days, unless you count last night's happy bath. It was a short day at the course anyway, finishing around 10:30, so I rerouted to Mississauga for noon to catch some Judo. I’m not sure if that was out of convenience, or as punishment for my slow start to the day, but twelve hours later I was still sitting in the same seat and starting to contemplate pretending to be a competitor so I could go in the back room and sleep on the warm-up mats. The only thing I could think about was the 20-pack of Chicken McNuggets sitting in my car and how long it might be before I could be reunited with them and ketchup-stain my shorts in ecstasy eating them on the drive home. I was already pretty hungry when I first got there, but you couldn’t bring any food in - presumably to avoid any homicides by the people who had to make weight and could smell the trans fats from a hundred yards away.

The gold medal matches eventually got started at about a quarter past scurvy, and in between fits of delirium I got to see an dominant Canadian win gold. The women's 75kg final was an absolute clinic, and later at the press conference when people were asking if I was her boyfriend - who had just won gold for the men - I was honoured to lie to them. I just told them it was complicated (in that we hadn't ever met) and that I'd hit my head on the mat so I couldn’t remember the score, let alone my opponent's country, but yeah, it felt great to win, gotta thank my team, oh of course yes, I'll sign your boobies.


This is what the press thought I did for sport. I found it silly because I would never go around in my bathrobe only wearing one sock that I'd made out of tape. Somebody please fund these athletes. Plus, if it's a bathrobe-appropriate situation you can bet I'll just be naked. And now that I think about it, in a public setting I could probably use that one sock.

I just got back to the hotel - and yet again had that awkward "Hi Mr. Valet, enjoy my mediocre car and no tip" chat. "Hm? Oh yes, that's a ketchup stain. Yes, it was worth it." Say that again? Oh, yes, I'm naked, yes. See they were all wearing robes and I don't like those. Okay, yes, I'll let you know if I find the other sock."

Anyway, I've still got a couple of hours ahead of me to spend sorting through all my photos, so I'll just keep this post in an old man's pants; brief.