The Boiz Within

A soothing Jazz beat echos from the stereo and through the empty Cooper St. apartment. Bert would love this, I think to myself.

The just cold enough Steamwhistle hits my lips.  I thumb through a slightly wrinkled edition of MacLean's magazine. Odd that some pages seem to be stuck together. Seriously fellas? MacLean's?

Guess I'm a little early.  The boiz should be here any minute, I think to myself.

Could have sworn I heard the door open not long ago but it must have been the neighbours across the hall.

When was the last time I saw the boiz anyway? Feels like forever. Thank god for the three way. It's nice to know what they’re all up to. Hell it's just nice to know they're there.  Between uncertainty at work and the recent demise of the Senators, sometimes it seems like the boiz are the only constant. The boiz are Dale's safe place, ya might say.

They really should be here by now...

I lean forward and return the MacLean's to the rickety, couch-side table and spot an unopened envelope. 

My curiosity piqued; I glance at the address on the front. 250 Cooper Street, it reads. Addressed to a Mr. Morley Dolax. Wait...Morley? Dolax? Odd.

At that moment, a picture frame hung on the adjacent wall catches my eye. It features a smiling couple. A 6 foot something blonde fellow and his plump yet pleasant girlfriend or wife. Quite a pair I think to myself, but why do the boiz have a picture of this couple on their wall?

I stand up, throw back the remaining Steamwhistle from the emerald bottle and walk towards Bert's room. I peer in. In the far corner is a baby's crib. The walls are painted in a soothing baby blue and a changing table rests where I could swear a couch once resided.

Something…Something isn’t right.  I can feel my heart rate accelerate.

I frantically make my way to Derk's room expecting, nay hoping, to see the usual disheveled sanctuary Derk calls home. I push the door open, and gasp. A perfectly made queen size bed, decorated with throw pillows and floral pattern duvet.

 

What the hell is going on here? Where are the boiz? Where am I?  I know this is the right apartment. It has to be…

On the desk rests an open lap top. Panicked, I log in to Facebook. I'm breathing heavily now.  The once soothing sound of the saxophone coming from the apartment stereo now only increases my panic.   I know what's happened but I'm not ready to accept it.

Cautiously, I begin to type a name in my friends list.

Paul Bertrand…No matches found

Alex Yeaman…No matches found

Derek McConnery…Did you mean Dave MacArthur? No I meant Derek McConnery, damn it!...No matches found

I type Colin Winters but I already know the answer. No matches found.

I desperately pull out my blackberry looking for comfort in the three way. Hands shaking, I scroll to the WhatsAp icon and click. Nothing. No conversation labeled “The Boiz”. But all that banter?  The cards…The scrabble…All those nights out? Could they be…Is it possible?

The sound of the sax booming out of the radio is unbearable now.

A drop of sweat falls from my brow. They aren’t real. I’ve made it all up. Hal, Bert, CC, Derk...The LOLs, the beers, the blog! All of it!

Confused, I stand in the darkened hall way and look toward the exit.  The knob turns slightly at first and then again, more hastily.  The door creaks open…  

Boiz...?

The Boizzz of Summer: An In-Depth Preview of the Ottawa Fat Cats 2012 Season

Blogger note: I meant to post this last Friday but sometimes life happens. Nothing changes however, my prediction stays the same. I am also happy to report the Fat Cats went 1-1 on their season opening road trip...and most importantly...we found LaDale...

The smell of freshly cut grass. The first bite of pig and cow skeletal muscle and by-products fresh from the barbecue. The sound of a Harley Davidson’s tires squealing as Grape rides off into a beautiful spring sunset. May has arrived boizzz and girls and that can only mean one thing; it’s time for Fat Cat Baseball!

            Turn (down the window) back the calendar to May 2011. The Fat Cat’s were entering their second season in the Nation’s Capital. Staring toward an uncertain future with low expectations, one had to wonder if the Fat Cat’s sophomore season would be their last. A few months passed, as did a few Matt McGovern 9k, 1 run ball games and what do you know? The little team with the uncertain future would sneak into the playoffs. The cats weren’t done there. Lead by their solid pitching staff and reliable fielding, the Fat Cats would make the IBL finals only to be bested by the Brantford Red Sox. The improbable play off run by the Cats made them the talk of the city. A year older and wiser, with a strong co4re of returning players leading the TEAM, they prepare to battle a host of teams looking to take one of their 9 lives…and it all starts this weekend. 

This year’s team is stocked with a healthy mix of newbie’s and familiar faces. Do the Fat Cats have what it takes to return to the IBL finals? Let’s took a closer look and see…

Infield

The Cats return 3 regulars to the 2012 roster. Veterans Matt "The Gov" McGovern, Chris "Fernando" Latimer and Cody Mombourquette man the bags (when The Gov isn’t throwing fireballs from the mound that is) while newcomer Jason Coker has the unenviable task of replacing fan favorite Mark Charette at shortstop. Chemistry amongst the infielders was key in last year’s playoff run and the cats will need to recreate the magic if they hope to return to the promise land. One big question mark surrounding the Cats infield will be the catcher position. Ricky “Big Dawg” Howroyd has moved on to a Florida Montana’s and will no longer provide a rock solid presence behind the mound. Will Etain Moaz be able to fill the Big Dawg’s size 12 Air Force II special editions? The Cats better hope had better hope so as a solid catcher is a staple in the IBL.

Outfield

The outfield sees the return of more familiar faces. Kevin Detrick, last years most consistent performer, returns his steady bat and solid fielding to the line up. Joe Stone also return’s his potato gun arm; base runners beware! The success of the outfield may lie on the capable shoulders of LaDale “Say Hey!” Haynes. Although the fastest man in Ottawa has not yet arrived to be with the team, he is expected in time for opening day. The fat cats count on his knack for high light reel catches because if nothing else, they’re provocative, they get people going! Keep your eyes open for “Say Hey” LaDale, he’s not from around here and could be wandering around the city lost…

Pitching

The cats will once again rely heavily on Matt McGovern to anchor the pitching staff. He and newcomer Marc Andre Major will form a formidable 1-2 punch, giving the starting rotation more depth then in previous seasons. With “the Gov” and Major shouldering a lot of the load the Cats will also be seeking contributions from veterans Brett Sabourin, Josh “May the Beard be With You” Soffer and Danny “Evil Kenivl” Desclouds. New comers Brandon Huffman and Will Sebastien will also see some innings of work. No you’re radar is not broken Huffman has been reported to hit the low 90’s with his fastball. Can you say Dijon mustard with a dash of horse radish? Ehhh yoooooo!!!! The Cats will once again field one of the most solid bullpen’s in the league and if last year is any indication, solid pitching can bring a team a long way come July/August (Playoffs baby!)

Hitting

The 2011 Fat Cat’s were team that capitalized on opportunity. The top of the order always managed to find a way on base while the power hitters did just that; hit for power. With Big Dawg and Charette having moved on to greener pastures, someone new will have to step up and get Latimer and Mombourquette circling those bags. We know Kevin Detrich is up to the task, but who else will rack up the RBI’s? This in my mind is the biggest obstacle facing the Cats. Can they find consistent offensive production? Only time will tell and that folks, is why we play the damn games.

Prediction

Having no knowledge of the other teams or players I find it very difficult to tie my well respected name to a prediction. That has never stopped me before however…I predict the Fat Cat’s will finish third in the regular season and run the gantlet, sweeping the 2012 IBL playoffs and bringing the city of Ottawa it’s first IBL championship! I also predict Grape will continue his mischievous antics! The tax man will continue to offer up discounted rates on financial services alongside Sports Centre Top 10 worthy spills and crashes – can someone get the damn shopping cart some new wheels? And the Fat Cat’s faithful will continue to lead the league in alcoholic beverage consumption – I can do my part on that one and I trust our faithful readership will do the same.

Let's Go Fat Cats!!!

The Week That Was...

Man... it's quiet in here.  And who left the window open?  There's moths everywhere now!

Ah, well anyway, thisc,.bb,         xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,                                                                     

Sorry, I had to fix my space bar.  This post is called The Week That Was, but it's much more of metaphorical a week, like saying "man, what a week!" than any definitive amount of minutes.  To our loyal readers wondering what happened to us, well... the boiz get busy, ya know?  It happens to the best of us, and it happened to the rest of us.  You see, the boiz had things to take care of, specifically internationally, and while it would imprudent to get into any particular details, CC is gonna anyway.  Ready?

Ol' Iron Fist Yeamax, otherwise known as Hal, hasn't been seen in awhile.  Not because he's in jail (we hope), lost his personables (actually pretty likely) or that he quit the blog (impossible), but because he is currently zooming around Eastern Europe in pursuit of the Albanian Dream, Soviet-era tractor steering wheels (he collects these for some reason, it's an issue) and criminology research opportunities.  If the fall of communism and its subsequent inspiring of organized crime and oligarchies is any indication at all, that cat is probably pretty busy.  Plus the boiz have it on good authority that wifi access in that part of the planet isn't exactly widespread, so a check in is made more difficult.  If he makes it outta there in good shape though, he is going to swing by Bertapest, capital city of Hungry, to see if he can't find something that...

Henry Thorough left him.  Our very own transcendentalist in residence made a quick trip over to the land of milk and 17-year-old ballet dancers recently, and just may have left something behind (I know I know, his dignity right? Wrong.  He hasn't seen that in years).  Will Hal find it?  Will it be contraband?  Is it two pre-loved jars of pickles?  Who knows. What we do know is that Henry had a great time with some of his boiz, and we are all better because of it.  Hurry over there folks, its a great place to visit but I hear it can get tight at times...  And I mean busy, like where...

Dusty Daley went, NYC.  Manhattan ladies and gentlemen, the Big Not-So-Easy.  And what was he doing there, leaving the cozy confines of Ott Dot?  Nothing less than Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals! ...I mean Round 1, but still hella important nonetheless, as our hometown boiz the Sens took King Henry and the rest of those talentless schmucks to the brink of elimination.  Dusty was legitimately fearing for his life, but he made it out safe and sound and I can only assume slightly hungover, only to ride that party all weekend long, stopping off for a ballgame and another (much less important) hockey match in Philly.  If Dusty were a professional sports writer, he would've been getting paid for this trip.  But he made it back by the grace of Amtrak and reported to work Monday morning.  Bam!  You know who else had to work that morning? ...

kcerdw did.  kcerdw went to Montreal for some reason, I'm still not sure why.  He told me over a cider so that's probably why I don't recall the specifics, but MTL is pretty cool too right?  And it may not be international per se, but they do speak a different language there, much like they do where...

CC works.  Kitchens.  No not your momma's kitchen, but restaurant kitchens, a whole mess of 'em.  6 different kitchens, 6 days a week.  That's a lie, but I was a busy cat while all this was going down, and figured the best thing to do when the boiz are out of town, and the cider doesn't taste as sweet, and the card table is empty, and the 3 way is silent, and the streets are unfriendly, is to hold that shit down.

So I did, and then I wrote this post, and when all the boiz are back in action, they're gonna hold a referendum, and Bytown will be unanimously agreed to have its name changed to Boiztown, and all will be right.

And for those wondering what the rest of the blog team is doing, I'll tell ya... as soon as they text me back.