Stories: Kevin Bailie and Ball Hockey

A Kevin Bailie story

For anyone who doesn’t know that junior hockey is a business, there is the cautionary tale of former Oshawa General and Belleville ball hockey star Kevin Bailie.

Bailie, a 2008 first round draft pick of the Generals, was enjoying his finest season in the OHL this year while playing for the powerhouse London Knights as an overager. As one-half of the Knight’s goaltending tandem with Jake Patterson, Baillie was part of history as the team reeled off a league record 24 straight victories – one shy of the CHL record.

Bailie’s record was 18-4, his goals-against average was a sparkling 2.50 and he boasted an impressive .921 save percentage. He was also in net for the biggest win in the streak, a 19-round shootout victory in Mississauga.

And then he was abruptly released.

The Hunter boys, who own, manage and coach the Knights, put him on waivers mere days before major junior teams around the country had to freeze their rosters. Too late to sign with a QMJHL team, in fact.

Bailie was without a job because Anthony Stolarz, a Philadelphia Flyer draft pick, decided to leave the University of Nebraska-Omaha early and the Hunters decided they wanted the younger goalie for next year’s Memorial Cup, which will be held in London.

We don’t know who recruited who, but we know that Bailie hadn’t lost a hockey game in two months, and just like that, he was out of major junior hockey.

The bright side is that Bailie did find a job, albeit one level lower in Tier 2 junior ‘A’ with the Summerside (PEI) Capitals.

 And the irony was unmistakable when the Knights, who won the OHL title and entered this year’s Memorial Cup as a co-favourite, struggled in the tournament, eventually bowing out in the semi-final.

The reason? Goaltending woes.

Meanwhile, Bailie, took his Summerside team all the way to the final of the RBC Cup, knocking off the top ranked Surrey (B.C.) Eagles in the semi-final along the way with a 50 save performance.

But barring a pro offer, Bailie is headed to Kingston next year to play hockey and study law at Queen’s University.

The Hunter boys, along with Stolarz, will go back to London to get back to the business of major junior hockey.

A ball hockey story

Bailie is no stranger to championships in the off season, and to say he is an accomplished ball hockey player is a bit of an understatement.

He helped his local Belleville squad win three straight junior national championships and followed that up by starring between the pipes for Canada when they won the World U-20 Championships last year.

But this story goes back to his first provincial tournament in 2008 in Midland/Penetang when he was part of a powerful team that boasted no less than six OHL players, including number one draft pick Taylor Hall (Edmonton Oilers) and Andrew Shaw, who now stars for the Chicago Black Hawks.

My son Cameron was on a pretty good Oshawa team that met Belleville in the semi-finals and though the score was never in doubt, the Oshawa boys – particularly an undersized but absolutely fearless defender named James – weren’t intimidated.

Young James is back of his net mixing it up with Shaw and taking a few, uh, liberties with his opponent, who happened to be a noted enforcer with the Niagara Ice Dogs at the time. Shaw, as you would expect, wasn’t thrilled to be treated this way by a house leaguer and took offence.

“Do you know who I am? I’m Andrew Shaw,” shouted Shaw, who, in his defence, was a future NHLer on the ice and already a highly decorated and world class ball hockey player on the floor.

James clearly had never heard of him and responded with appropriate disdain as the linesmen arrived to break up the party.

But Shaw had the last words:

“Google me!”

I Remember

Je me souviens. I remember.

I remember my great-grandmother’s tears when she sent four of her boys off to fight in the Great War. I remember her muted joy at seeing three of them return safe but never truly sound; her son John – my father carries his name – fought valiantly during that horrible spring of 1917 before he was left behind in the deadly quagmire that was the first day of Passenchedale.

I remember English Sally, she who married a son of Pennan, walking the length of the island from her family home in the great naval port of Southampton to the north-east coast of Scotland, just to be with her man, homeward bound from the Napoleanonic Wars.

I remember Alexander Hendry of Aberdeenshire fighting for his freedom at Culloden in 1746. Life for Alexander and the rest of the Scots who fought with Bonnie Prince Charlie would never be the same.

I remember a newlywed Rozel straining to deliver her baby on the very day her husband, an American loyal to the crown and kin to my children, was fighting for Canada’s freedom alongside Isaac Brock at Queenston Heights. The soldier would return safely to meet his son; his wife would not see either ever again.

I remember my Great-Uncle Charlie, who had left his wife behind while he tried to earn a living in Malaysia’s rubber industry, struggling to stay alive in a Japanese POW camp during World War II.  Charlie, who kept a diary at the risk of his life, toiled daily to rebuild the bridge over the River Kwai, while the good guys daily rained down death from above.

I remember a son of a former classmate losing his life in Afghanistan; the shock when I read the news lingers with me still.

I remember the funeral of a young man related to me by marriage who was just beginning his military career. The sound of the pipes as they played Amazing Grace sent shivers up my spine. I will never forget that day.

I remember every soldier who fought and died for me and my family and for our freedom, and for the freedom that we all enjoy and too often take for granted.

I remember the families and friends of those soldiers and the tears that were shed for fallen loved ones.

I remember. So I won’t ever forget.

Crack cocaine vs Council Corruption

 “I do not use crack cocaine, nor am I an addict of crack cocaine.”

Top that, Oshawa.

You’d have to live under a rock not to know about poor Rob Ford, the Mayor of Toronto, as he tries to survive a crack smoking video scandal (alleged) that has already resulted in Toronto being the butt of jokes on the U.S. talk show circuit and will, in all likelihood, lead to Ford’s resignation.

Actually, those people living under rocks will know about this as well. Some with first hand information, I reckon.

Oshawa City Council has its own scandal to deal with, though the story of back room real estate deals and threatened whistle blowers (alleged) isn’t likely to push Ford off the front pages outside of the Motor City.

Not in a GM town, anyway.

It does, however, provide a little more mortar to cement Oshawa’s reputation of having the most fractious and dysfunctional council this side of, well, Toronto.

The shit hit the fan May 16 when Ron Foster, the City’s auditor general, released a report claiming City Manager Bob Duignan misled council on the value of lands on Wentworth Street the Public Works department is eyeing for a new depot. Foster is also alleging senior staff tried to hush-hush the revelations and that Duignan threatened to fire him over the report, despite the fact Foster reports directly to Council.

The issue went to council Tuesday night, and our city leaders decided to hire Toronto municipal law expert George Rust-D’Eye – helluva name, no? – to investigate the allegations. Not that Council could come together on that vote either, as the motion to hire Rust-D’Eye (who has a history here) passed by the slimmest of margins: 5-4.

Oshawa is no stranger to dysfunction, though most of the truly childish antics have tended to take place near the end of political regimes – Nancy Diamond’s final years and John Gray’s last year come to mind – so this latest scandal doesn’t bode well for Mayor John  Henry, who will be asking voters for another term next year.

Already we have tons of chatter on Facebook on the issue, as well as people waving “CORRUPTION” signs in front of city hall. But this scandal is not in the class of, say, ass grabbing, public intoxication or crack smoking videos. Really though, how could it be?  Rob Ford and Toronto City Council are in a class of their own, don’t you think?

Now if there is a video of Duignan and Foster discussing the merits of this works depot deal, and if said video belongs to drug dealers and we get citizens to pony up a few hundred thousand dollars to buy it …

Still not in Ford’s league. But kudos for trying.

*

On a sad note, I noticed For Lease signs on a downtown Oshawa landmark recently. Murray Johnston, the go-to place for men’s suits since 1917, is no more.

I ran into store owner Peter McGill, who has worked there since 1977, at the Mayflower Chinese restaurant the other day and asked him what happened.

“When you’re not making money for a couple of years,” he answered, his voice trailing off. “I really wanted to make one hundred years. But we made 96 and I think that’s pretty good.”

It is good, Peter. I hope to see you back downtown soon.

Oshawa’s Forgotten First Avenue

It is called First Avenue in the City of Oshawa’s official documents but it sits forlorn and forgotten and a far cry from first in the hearts of the greater business community and Oshawa planners.

The stretch of First Avenue from Simcoe Street to the end of the old Knob Hill Farms property at Howard Street – actually, that’s the entire road as it changes name as it heads east – would be more appropriately called a ghost avenue, as there’s nothing there but old memories at the moment.

That’s a shame. It’s also number one on my list of places in Oshawa where the City should be stepping up their game to make some positive changes.

The street’s decline started 13 years ago when the Knob Hill Farms Food Terminal, owned by then-Leafs owner Steve Stavro – the man who said no to Wayne Gretzky finishing his career in Toronto – shut down.

The abandoned Knob Hill Farms site on First Avenue

Built on the site of an iron foundry that had been operating since the 1870s, and billed as the ‘world’s largest food store’ when it opened in 1983, the massive 226,000 sq. ft. food terminal (which also housed a pharmacy, bakery, dentist's office, video rental store, and other retailers) was a major shopping destination for Durham Region and beyond for its entire existence.

But in 2000, with Stavro facing huge losses from new competitors like Costco, he shut all 10 terminals down. His divested his stake in the hockey team three years later and died in 2006 of a heart attack.

The Oshawa site became a liquidation outlet and a flea market for a while but has been vacant –and a crumbling, weedy eyesore - for years.

The next to go was the glass factory across the street in 2009. There had been a glass factory on the site since the 1920s and the plant employed about 160 people making windshields for the auto industry when Pittsburgh Glass Works bought the place and, after waiting a couple of months for the dust to settle and the cheques to clear, said see ya, we’re shutting you down.

Nice.

Known as the K-Mart Plaza before converting
to Zellers and eventually closing for good

The plaza, located at the corner of Simcoe and First, was the next to feel the pinch. Never an upscale shopping destination, the K-Mart Plaza – later called Zellers Plaza when K-Mart’s Canadian operations were purchased by Hudson Bay Corp. (HBC) in 1998 – was nonetheless a busy place before the economic downturn and job losses happening down the street began to take effect.

Swiss Chalet was the first major tenant to go, leaving for parts west on Stevenson Road in 2009. But the big blow came when Target blew into town, took a look at the Zellers stores in Oshawa, and turned their nose up at Simcoe and First.

We would have called the place ‘Target Plaza’ just for you, Target Corp. We really would have.

The Five Points Mall Zellers made the conversion to Target; the Townline store became a Wal-Mart; and the Oshawa Centre location was assumed by mall owners Ivanhoe Cambridge, who promptly announced plans for a major mall expansion.

The store at Simcoe and First was deemed to be a “less desirable” location by Target and was left to wither away by HBC until the lease expired in March.

It is now closed, as is every store in the plaza save one. And that store, a Furniture Mart, has liquidation sale signs plastered on every square inch of window space.

The plaza, which is the first thing you see on Simcoe Street (Oshawa’s main north-south thoroughfare) as you drive north from Hwy 401, is officially dead. Life support will not help this place and an intervention is out of the question. It needs a resurrection.

The GO Trains are coming! We hope ...

Oshawa thought they had the solution to all that ails the plaza and the neighbourhood a couple of years ago when Metrolinx, the company that operates GO Transit, announced plans for a major expansion into Oshawa and Clarington.

The project included three new stations in Oshawa – including one at the Knob Hill Farms site – and city planners and area residents were ready to dance in the streets and sing hallelujah.

But not so fast for poor First Avenue, which has been kicked in the head enough times to know not to get its hopes up. Metrolinx, citing environmental concerns and a disagreement over the purchase price for the lands, pulled the plug on the deal – taking the City completely by surprise – in late 2011.

Metrolinx’ reasoning for its sudden lack of interest in the site seem odd at the very least. Price can always be negotiated and it is unclear how a food terminal could operate on former foundry lands for so many years and yet environmental site remediation costs (not to mention liability costs) would be deemed too pricey to operate a train station at the same location.

First Avenue is still waiting to be amazed

The end result is that (of course) First Avenue had been rejected once again, unloved and unwanted.

A 2009 City report identified the site as the best option for a central train station in Oshawa, noting that a station there “could be a significant catalyst for growth, intensification and redevelopment in and around the downtown and Simcoe Street South areas.”

No kidding.

About the only good news for the neighbourhood is happening across the street on the Pittsburgh Glass site, which has seen some activity as the buildings are being prepared as the possible future home of a flea market.

Not exactly hallelujah news but at least nobody’s singing First Avenue’s eulogy.

Yet.

Mother’s Day

This post was first written five years ago. While some things never change, other things in life do, so this has been tweaked and edited to reflect the fact that life throws us many curve balls. My Mom has been a nurturer her entire life but now, at 85, is on the receiving of TLC from her husband of 63 years: my Dad. Sometimes Karma is a beautiful thing.

My mother is a giver, a nurturer, a helper. She has been so her entire life.

I’ve always known her to be someone who thinks of others before she thinks of herself. And not just thinks, but does. And not just me, my two brothers and my Dad, but anyone who needed help. My Mom always made herself available.

Thank God Mom didn’t like to drive or else she would never be around. Just kidding, Mom. You would be there.

Mom volunteered at our church and at local community centres from our home base at Jane and Wilson to the projects at Jane and Finch. She took courses, partly to better herself, but mostly to be around other people.

And to help.

When it looked like there weren’t going to be any more of us kids on the way, she applied to be a foster mom. Needless to say, she was accepted and my childhood was shared with dozens of children ‘on loan’ from other parents.

She tried to stay a little detached, knowing they would eventually leave, but how could she not love them all? She came close with one – Tammy was her name; lovely little girl – but Children’s Aid wasn’t keen on foster mothers adopting back in the day. Lose too many foster parents that way, I guess.

So Mom soldiered on fostering, nurturing, giving and helping.

And, as I recently found out, mentoring. I connected with an old friend from the neighbourhood on Facebook a few years ago: Andrea, our regular babysitter from Mom’s fostering days. She asked how I was doing and then immediately wanted to know how my Mom was.

“I have such great memories of the time I spent with your family taking care of foster babies,” Andrea told me. “Your mom taught me so much about children and valuable life lessons.”

I saw from her Facebook pages that she had kids and asked Andrea if that is where she put those life lessons to use.

“Well,” she said, clearly smiling on the other side of our connection, “I learned a lot of patience. I have five children.”

At 85, my mother has her grandchildren and great-grandchildren to keep her on her toes but is long retired from babysitting chores. Until just a few years ago she still had Dad to look after – I thought that would never change – but now, with early onset Alzheimer's to worry about the situation has been reversed. My Father is now the nurturer and it is Dad who now looks after Mom.

He's doing a great job too.

There are days, he tells me, where the disease is not so early onset anymore but they manage to get through it with smiles. Those are just moments right now; fleeting bits of gossamer, really. But those moments will increase in frequency as the months and years go on because that's the nature of Alzheimer's.

Mom is still incredibly chill and freakin' adorable as well. She still worries about her kids (I’m okay, Mom. Yes, I've put on a few pounds. Thank you for noticing), but I think her days of cruising the seven seas with Dad a couple of times a year - her reward for a life well lived - are probably in the past.

But she is not now or ever will be retired from giving and helping. It is her nature to nurture.

I went out to my childhood home in Downsview today to see her (and Dad too), and to cut the grass and to do any other chore Pops had in mind. I'll be back every other weekend this summer to do the same. And every time I make a beeline to the den at the back of the house to give Mom a kiss and tell her I missed her.

And she will smile that adorable smile of hers. 

I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

Leafs, nieces, Tavares and trucker tans

The stats were telling: 67 combined hits in Game 1, 79 in Game 2 and 99 in Game 3.

As soon as the Toronto Maple Leafs drew the short straw in the form of a first round matchup with the Boston Bruins, they knew they were going to be for a physical series. But the bumps and bruises are adding up; the energy-draining pounding is taking its toll.

Win Game 4 and the pain from those injuries won’t be important. Lose, and fall 3-1 down, and every ache and pain will be felt ten-fold.

The Leafs took it to Boston last night and were the more aggressive team in the overtime session. But 13 minutes into the first overtime period David Krejci scored the killer blow, his third of the game. The Bruins won, and the Leafs are down 3-1, heading back to Boston for Game 5.

It will be very, very tough for Toronto to come back from this, but never say never.

I was especially hopeful for this game, as my nieces Natalie and Nicole were at the game and I know they were cheering themselves hoarse. That was a good effort, girls. Maybe you can do it again for Game 6? Here’s hoping.

For the record, the hits for Wednesday’s game hit the 120 mark, with Toronto leading the parade, 71-49.

Bet Boston isn't as sore today, though.

*

Speaking of Natalie and Nicole, I think it’s time I rectify a little oversight. In my ‘Heroes’ blog from Boxing Day I spoke of the young women in my life who I draw inspiration from. I mentioned Nat, but not Nicole. In my defence, my goal was to highlight qualities in these wonderful women that could transfer well to anyone in need of awesomeness.

I didn’t think mere mortals would be able to use the lovely Nicole’s special brand of caustic coolness. I figured only she could pull it off.

But that’s weak; I know that now. It simply would be more of a challenge. But it’s exactly those kinds of challenges that can lead to greatness, no?

You’re on the list, Nic.

*

If the Leafs can’t do it, I’m going to lend my support to the New York Islanders. Never been much of an Islander fan (though I was a fan of Mike Bossy), but this squad has no fear of the mighty Pittsburgh Penguins and have squared the series at 2-2.

The fans are loud and knowledgeable and keep up the roar all game, which is something you have to respect.

And John Tavares is finally living up to the can’t-miss superstar billing he earned back in his Oshawa Generals days.

He’s not missing anymore.

*

I’ve put in 30 hours of work in the past three days; most of it toiling in the hot sun.

So naturally, I earned some colour and even a painful burn. But is my sunburn the result of all that work outside? No. It’s trucker tan, passenger-style, from the ride back to the shop.

Go figure.

Glorious

It was a glorious weekend. Perfect for a little friend time, and some of that old time religion.

It started with tons of gorgeous weather, an epiphany or two, followed by a First Communion. Throw in a couple of beers and a Leaf playoff victory and really, can you get any better than that?

The weather has been so beautiful all week that I’ve almost enjoyed working in the sunshine. All that sun went to my head, however, and was giving me visions. Or hallucinations. But let’s go with epiphanies, in keeping with the spiritual theme.

One is I’m getting lazy again, so I went to the track at Eastdale for the first time this season Saturday for a run. Put the track shoes on Sunday, too.

The second revelation was that I need to work on my awesome, so perhaps some church time was in order. You know, for some divine guidance.

So, on Sunday morning, after watching the Leafs square their playoff series with the Bruins the night before, I went to church. St. Phillip the Apostle Catholic Church, to be exact. The occasion was my young friend Phoenix’ Communion and his mom Terrine asked me to go, so I did.

Now Terrine, who is about 50 months pregnant, is a dear friend and one of my favourite people so I would have gone anyway, but each time I run into her and her family, I end up spending a few minutes chatting with Phoenix.

He’s my buddy now. So I went for him.

Now I don’t go to church much, but where I grew up the local United Church was a community focal point in my WASP neighbourhood. It’s where I learned to smoke, and where I had my first “ask her if she likes me” moment.

But all my church-going in the past two decades has been to Catholic churches because my family is Catholic and my kids all attended Catholic schools.

So while I enjoy my time there – in church, that is – there is a certain disconnect because the rituals are different from my childhood experiences. Sunday, however, I felt right at home, thanks to Father Callaghan, who is hands down the funniest priest I’ve ever heard.

He even slipped a Leafs reference into the “repeat after me” stuff he was sharing with Phoenix and the rest of the kids up at the front.

“God can do anything,” he said. “He even got the Leafs into the playoffs.”

A bonus was I got to see little Ava – Phoenix' little sister and a bundle of two year-old perpetual motion if there ever was one – in action for the first time. Terrine and her husband Dan were hesitant to bring her into church, insisting Ava was the spawn of the devil, but I sided with Grandma. She’s just an angel, says Patricia, with too much energy.

Anyway, the ceremony was beautiful, Phoenix enjoyed his moment and I'm pretty sure I saw a few of the Kardashian sisters, and we exited the church to more glorious sunshine. Whether I gained any divine guidance remains to be seen.

But all in all, a glorious weekend. 

Here and There in the Sunshine

That wasn’t the way we had it scripted.

First playoff game in nine years and the Leafs served up a stinker. They started well enough, showing some early energy and getting rewarded with a 1-0 lead, courtesy of a goal by JVR.

Then the roof fell in. Boston out-played us, out-hit us and out-chanced us. Toronto forgot how to block shots and forgot how to win the little battles along the boards. They also forgot how to execute line changes and paid the price for it.

The result was a 4-1 loss in game one.

The bright side is there’s always game 2 and if the Leafs can return to the basics that got them to the playoffs – hard-nosed hockey blended with a liberal dash of speed – they can still bounce back in this series.

They better. Don‘t the players know I called them to win in six?

*

The beautiful weather is back, unless you live in Manitoba, where they just got bombed with another 25 centimetres of white stuff.

My old friend Fred posted a pic of the snow coming down in Portage la Prairie and I told him it was two thousand degrees down here. I never heard back.

But in southern Ontario people are outside enjoying the weather. Me too, but nice weather means longer hours working, which means two things: more money (a welcome change) and a perpetually sore lower back.

Just a reminder to myself that I’m getting too old for this crap.

*

Speaking of new careers, I’ve been thinking a lot about getting a new one. This one sure aint working too well for me.

I get a kick out of helping people, but with the exception of waiting tables it’s been there, done that with the service industry. I’ve gone through the menu at Durham College but nothing is jumping out at me just yet.

I think I’ll try to get a job with the Pan Am Games in 2015. Maybe I’ll be inspired by all the greatness around me.

*

The fine weather has also brought the summer cars out from their winter hiding places. Two things have occurred to me: Camaros seem to be losing ground at the top of the pony car heap, and yellow is the new red.

The Oshawa-made (for now) and wildly popular Chevrolet Camaro has been the dominant domestic sports car on the streets of Durham Region since its re-introduction a few years ago. Now? I’m not so sure. I am seeing way more Chargers out here than Camaros or Mustangs.  Blasphemous, I know. But that’s what I’m seeing.

I’m also noticing a ton of yellow cars on the roads these days. Back in the day red was the colour you chose if you wanted your ride to go faster. Fire-engine, candy-apple, whatever. Red was always guaranteed to help your car go at least five miles per hour faster. Yellow? You had to have some serious chutzpa to drive a yellow car.

Today yellow cars are all over the road. And you know what? They do go faster.

*

Spring has brought the birds back and our feathered friends have been in fine form. I wake up to sparrows chirping, by mid-morning the cardinals are singing and the sea gulls are squawking and by late afternoon the starlings are …wresting in the dirt and fighting to the death?

That was the case the other day when I was sitting in KFC waiting for my order. Out the window I see two male starlings fighting over territory (read: females) and it looked like a couple of UFC scrappers on crack.  The two were rolling over and over, pecking each other in the head all the way. It was impossible to tell which one was winning.

‘Till one got top position and started raining hammer blows with his beak on his rival’s head. I thought I was going to have to run out and break up this fight, else one starling would be chirping his last. Fortunately the loser broke free and managed to fly away, his pride in tatters and his chance of getting the girl gone. But alive, to chirp another day.

He’ll be back tomorrow or the next to try again. Think about it. The sounds you hear every day – the chirping of the birds, the croaking of the frogs, the grunts of the deer, the buzz of a billion bugs – those are the sounds of the natural world, all trying desperately to get laid.

I can relate.