Allright.... so... Alberta.
Things are pretty blah. I'm getting kinda sick of my job. I've been spending the past few payweekends in Calgary, and everytime I leave, it gets harder. I'm seeking new permanent employment in cowtown. Even if it's something lame, if it pays ok, I may find myself there soon. There's a lot of reasons why getting back there makes a lot of sense. I find the energy of the city more exciting, I have a good knowledge of where shit is, I have some super friends there (hi guys!), and there's a particular redhead there who's caught my fancy that I might be mooching er... staying with.
So yeah, the Heat won and Cam won MVP, where my props bitches? Too bad my beloved Dutch got robbed by those slimy Portuguese. I guess my circa 1998 Dutch soccer team shorts will have to make it until at least 2010 to be doused in Heineken.
Enjoy your Canada day everyone. I will be circulating Downtown Calgary sporting only red paint, a Canadian flag, a wonderful buzz, and an embarassed redhead.

Oh what a time of year to be a sports fan. A Canadian team in the Stanley cup finals, the NBA finals happening as well, not to mention my beloved Blue Jays of Toronto competing fiercely in a tight AL east. While eating full bags of kettle chips or entire medium pizzas over the past couple of days, I've had time to assemble the following sports related facts, opinions, observtions, and predictions.

Darrin Fletcher is a MORON. As far as calling baseball games goes, I honestly think I could do a better job. Give me a few beer and I'd be all over that shit. I mean how hard is it to remember players correct names? "Adam" Hill, "Alexi" Rios (does he look Russian?), Javier Lopez? I mean, c'mon! Can't you read? I won't even get into to fact that he still calls them the "California" Angels, despite them changing from that name, twice. Rogers sportsnet, if you're listening, I am available.

Kudos to Ted Nolan for proving you can be native, AND have a mullet, and still get a job in the new NHL.

Dearest Ben Roethlisberger, I'm not going to say: "We told you so." I was thinking more along the lines of "YOU ARE A FUCKING MORON." I hope possibly losing your entire career and the millions of dollars that come with it is enough for you to keep of a goddamn cowboy ass of a motorcycle, or at least wear a helmet next time. Hope your wife isn't a fan of you know, teeth.

Shaq and a sick D. Wade in Seven over Disco Dirk. (This was written Sunday night, and is looking less and less probable).

Much as I hate to say it, Carolina will win the cup on home ice in game 5. Cam Ward is without a doubt your Conn Smythe winner.

The Blue Jays need to trade for a second baseman, Might I suggest that the Nationals seem to have too many? Either of which they are likely willing to trade. If the get one and/or their pitching staff comes together, they'll win the East. If not, they'll likely come up just short of the wild card.

There, that's what I have to say, and now (thankfully for some I'm sure.) I'm off to eat some more free Pizza.

Riding south down the #2 Highway to Calgary at 160 km/hour, shirtless, with Death From Above blaring was possibly one of the better feelings I've had in my life. That is of course, until I got there.
Estimated time from Oiltown to Cowtown: 3 hours.
Time it took Matt Ling: 2 hours, 15 minutes.
Brand new car + unmonitored divided highways = gold.
New faces, familiar faces, delicious A&W, alcohol, and streets I could (kinda) navigate made me wonder why I'm not still in Calgary. In any case, I had a heck of a time, got my mail, and will be back soon.
I tried to be in Camrose for Monday morning, I really did. But I slept in, and got lost, and stopped for gas. I got here at 3:30 in the afternoon and promptly slept for 13 hours straight.
That city sure knows how to wear a guy out.