You probably don't care, but...

...after years of complaints, insults, and quitter talk, a new saga has begun in the sports section of my life...

coach bob got the axe. And as it turns out, he was the one dumb enough to drop it on his own foot.

D-oh!

In his futile attempts to secure the full-time position of coaching the women's team, Bob failed to recognize that the mere "technicality" of posting the job position would cost him his team.

We've got Olympians, national team members, Americans, Brazillians.... and Bob. One of these things is not like the other....

Meet Dustin Reid. He has a Nine Inch Nails tattoo--he's pretty fuckin' cool... at least for a coach.

 All that really matters? Bob's gone.. gonzo.. kaput!

a postcard from Sweden.

Meet Gustav Ejstes.

He's the one-man musical mastermind behind Swedish folk-psych-fantasy rock outfit Dungen (DOON-gen). He records every aspect of entire albums by himself, and graciously allows a few good men to accompany him on tour, carrying instruments and standing on stage... it's like he's in a band or something. 

The mass of musical instruments he brings on tour probably outweigh his slight frame, yet cannot overpower his mastery over each object he plays. A man of the many talents, Gustav can play a magical flute while simultaneously smoking cheap cigarettes. He's a man with the midas touch, everything he touches turns to musical gold. He's the magnificent merchant of everything beautiful and Swedish (he even makes dirty captain mo's and ginger ale mix well). He likes rap as much as John Bauer.

And, more than anything else, this 28-year-old loves 6 a.m. lectures towards unassuming younger women on life accomplishments and success. Bless your sweet, sweet Swedish soul, Gustav.  Please come back to Canada.