Chapter 1 The Game Begins
What am I doing? WHAT AM I DOING? No really WHAT AM I DOING!!! I am dressed in a get up that can only be described as…. ridiculous. I get why I look ridiculous. Hiding my identity has been a bit of a sport unto itself and something I don’t usually do but evidently desperate times come with desperate measures or something like that. But this has been an extreme effort. My two companions sitting beside me in the bleachers get to look basically normal because no one will probably recognize them. Where as I am recognized where ever I go in Canada and so for this event they have chosen to disguise me.
‘Oh stop fidgeting, you’re worse than a wee bairn waiting fur yer Christmas pudding.’ I get elbowed for my efforts. ‘Watch the luvies on the field. They make such brilliant vista. It might take your mind off your worries mate.’ Richard was scolding me.
‘Piss off Dickhead.’ I growl. I am hot and uncomfortable sitting on the metal bleachers out in the mid day sun in a wig, skullcap, Fred Rogers cardigan and corduroy pants. Oh for a lovely cool rink, the aroma of sweat and air conditioning, the sounds of skate blade carving across the ice. It’s not working. I’m still hot and uncomfortable.
‘Why are all the guys on the hockey team in shorts and t shirt while the girls team is dressed like they are going to go clubbing or something.’ It was a noteworthy question from Kit.
The ladies team were really dressed liked they were heading out for the night of partying not a ball hockey game. Not a runner in sight: just high heels and short skirts. There are lots of lanky legs and tight tops. It’s kinda of distracting. And then it happened. I probably wouldn’t have believe it myself if I heard about it but there on the side of the pitch, in the ladies bench area they stripped down and began changing into their gear… from clubbing dresses to athletic clothes. It’s a bra and panty show. Biz nasty where are you? The guys on the other bench have noticed. Okay, every guy within eyesight had noticed.
‘God, Canada has some of the most beautiful scenery around. I think I might need a private moment.’ Kit was looking uncomfortable as I felt.
‘Here are the cameras I want you guys to use. Please film just your player. I will be filming the whole game. I want to be able to dissect the game with each girl this week. What her thoughts were at that moment and why she made the decisions at that moment. It’s crucial to my study to get their facial expressions and body language. So you all are sure which player you have? Richard you have # 23 Kendra, Kit has # 10 Lauren, she’s a forward, and Sid, Tylyn is # 91 that little midfielder bouncing up and down while she stretches out.’ Ture walked up at that point and interrupted a perfectly show.
We looked at the small digital cameras we’ve been given and played with them to get used to how they would film.
‘Anyone want a friendly wager on the outcome of this game? Say a pint of a local ale?’ Richard said fiddling with the buttons on his camera.
‘Depends on what side you take? I suspect that with the confidence of these girls changing front of the guys that the girls will win.’ Kit said watching the warm-up through his camera.
‘Okay, fair enough but the lads are bigger, stronger and look very fit. Trust me I have been kissing boys for the last 6 months I know a fit lad when I see one. I am going to wager that the hockey team will win. Walter, as an expert what is your opinion, are you going to wager?’ Richard looked me.
