No touque for Dimitri

My cousin Steve, a TFC season ticket holder (and part-time hockey ref), wished me a happy birthday on the annointed day, and then had a moment of absolute clarity.

"I should give my pair of tickets to TFC's final game to my beloved cousin who I see every two years as a birthday present," said Steve (not to be confused with my other cousin Steve) just minutes after wishing me birthday greetings on Facebook.

The actual text of his message was actually pretty close to that: Hey, I know the season is a wash, but I can't go to the TFC finale this Sunday as I officiate hockey and have 4 games. As a BD gift would you like them cuz?

So of course I said yes. Even though it had been a hugely disappointing season for the defending MLS Cup champions - they were eliminated from playoff contention a month ago - it's still a TFC game, and I'm still a fan.

Dimitri and I at the TFC game. I may look
funny wearing glasses but damn! I look good
in my official TFC touque.

And it was Touque Day.

The first 10,000 fans get a free TFC touque. That sounded very doable and though I don't often wear hats, I'm always up for free stuff.

I asked my buddie Steve (not my actual cousin) if he wanted to go to the match - I've taken him to several previous soccer games - but he was watching his grandson. Number One Son Matt was next in the queue, but his daughter was coming over to spend the afternoon so he was out. His brother Cam? Working nights, he sadly informed me.

So I went to Plan B and asked my now former work pal Dimitri - who had never been to BMO Field - if he was up for the game. Dimitri, who was perfectly okay with being fourth - "aww, I was right after family" - said he'd love to go.

Especially after he heard it was Touque Day.

So after picking him up just after lunch Sunday and getting fuelled for the GO Train ride down to BMO 10/17-style (hey! It was an historic week), we drove down to the station. And promptly missed our train by seconds because I wasted a precious few too many of them trying to buy my ticket at one of those damn ticket vending machines.

Dimitri, meanwhile just swiped his Presto card and he's in and waiting for me, but the train started moving as we got to the tracks so we knew it was too late.

"Let's catch it at Whitby," says Dimitri, so we run (Dimitri)/hobble (me) back to my car (four hundred metres away) and I put on my racing goggles as I prepared to outrun a train.

Great plan, but the 401 wasn't co-operating and we could see the train on our left not getting any closer, so I decided to skip Whitby and head off the train in Ajax.

And missed it by seconds again.

"We could have beaten it to Pickering," Dimitri ventures, but I'm already done racing trains, I told him. "Dude. We're going to a brewery."

Cousin Steve moonlighting on
winter weekends

Can you blame me? I'm not going to beat a GO Train and Falcon Brewery was so close. And I was thirsty. We'll catch the next train in an hour, I told my young friend. Plenty of time to still be among the first 10,000 fans at BMO, right? Right?

So we whiled away forty minutes or so at Falcon, sipping on a Munition IPA while watching the whitest band ever assembled rock out a string of country/rock/folk hits at Open Mic.

It's not that they were bad - it was actually quite enjoyable - but with an average age of about 70 and the stage presence worthy of the undead it was a bit of a soulless experience. I swore the guitarist, who played in the sitting position, was either sleeping or worse until I saw his fingers move.

A bit of fun nonetheless, but with trains to catch and no luck so far catching them, we were soon on our way.

Having missed the 1:41 train to Exhibition Station, we made the 2:41 and arrived at the stadium with an hour to spare before game time; plenty of time for a friendly BMO staffer to assist me in finding our 'tickets' on my phone.

As I have said in this space before, I so need help.

Anyway, we make it inside but there was not a hat to be found. "Did we miss the touques?" I ask another friendly staffer, not quite believing we weren't among the first 10,000 fans.

TFC striker Sebastian Giovinco

"Sorry sir. They're all gone."

The look of disappointment must have been obvious, because a man to my right - possibly another friendly BMO employee, possibly just an empathetic soul - pressed a touque in my hands. "Last one," he said.

"Thank you," I said. "But you don't have another one for my friend?"

"That's it bud."

Sorry Dimitri. No touque for you.

We continued on our tour of the stadium, looking for food and more importantly, beer. Nothing but macro brews at BMO, but a Mill Street West Coast IPA for me and a Hopped and Confused Session Ale for Dimitri hit the spot nicely.

We also ran into one of those credit card people in the concourse. You know, sign up for our card - and who doesn't need more crippling credit card debt, am I right? - and we give you a gift. In this case, a soccer ball.

And I wanted a soccer ball.

So I signed on the dotted line (the card is in the mail) and turned to Dimitri. "You can get a ball too."

No ID. No soccer ball for Dimitri either.

The crowd at BMO Field on most match days

But we had beer, and settled in to our seats to watch TFC's final game of the season against Atlanta, a team that could have broken our single season points record with a victory or a tie.

So the boys had something besides pride to play for and they put together a clinic for 90 minutes, thoroughly dismantling Atlanta 4-1, thanks to goals by Lucas Janson (2), Marky Delgado and the Atomic Ant himself, Sebastian Giovinco.

Too bad they couldn't have done that on a more consistent basis during the rest of the season. And too bad New York Red Bulls - one point behind Atlanta in the race for the Supporters Shield going into the match - won their last game to eclipse TFC's record anyway.

The record lasted just one year.

But on the bright side, I have brand new soccer ball. And an authentic TFC touque.

Sorry Dimitri.

Beer & Bacon in the Shwa-Eh

If the immediate economic impact of a fledgling beer festival is the true measure of success, the Beer & Bacon Shwa-Eh held October 19-20 at Children's Arena in Oshawa was a bit of a dud.

Crowds were thin for both days, despite a stellar musical lineup and enough delicious local beer to keep me happy. And judging from the looks on the faces of the brewers and vendors in attendance, everyone took a bit of a bath on this one.

I, however, had a great time, and that's what really matters, am I right?

In fairness to Bowmanville's KCC Event Productions, who hosted three successful butter tart festivals in Durham last year, the timing for the beer festival was bad. They did a lot of promotion on Facebook and other social media, but a sign blitz immediately before the festival - the final weekend before the municipal election - fell flat amidst a sea of campaign signs plastered all over the city.

Josh and I. Birthday fam for life

On the bright side, Beer & Bacon Shwa-Eh garnered a couple hundred write-in votes for Mayor of Oshawa.

Just playing. It was only a couple dozen.

(KCC may want to also consider reverting back to the original name of the event - Beer & Bacon Festival, as the 'Shwa-Eh' addendum - particularly the 'Eh' - is a bit tired, but that could be just me.)

Seven brewers stuck around for the two days, along with a half-dozen vendors inside the arena and three food trucks in the parking lot. Not a lot of bacon-y products but plenty of beer for us thirsty masses.

My birthday bro Josh and I decided to take in the festival on the Saturday:  two days before our shared birthday.

Now I've known Josh since he was knee high to a grasshopper, fresh off the boat from Bristol, England, and ever since he came of age we've talked about celebrating our birthday together but our plans oft go awry, as ol' Robbie would say.

(Consecutive blogs quoting Robbie Burns. My Sons of Scotland dues should be on the house this year.)

So this year we decided we would have a drink or 12 together, albeit two days before the date. And what better venue for the celebration than a beer festival?

As it was just three days after cannabis was legalized in this country - 10/17 is the new 4/20 - we were sufficiently mellow when we arrived at Children's Arena for the event.

You could probably squeeze 400 or more people on the arena floor but there was never more than 70 or 80 festival goers in the time we were there, so that was disappointing, but friends Linda and John were there, so that was not.

My pal Matt from Manantler Brewing was in the house, so my once-and-always favourite brewery became my first stop. And my second, with Creamed by Bickell in my glass, followed by Ketchin Zeez, while I caught up with Matt on all things beer.

Drink number three was Eye of Sauron, a Sour from Chronicle Brewing, and after a quick chat with brewery owner Ted I returned to my table and the friends I had abandoned.

The talented Sarah Fazackerley

We talked about Trump, and I lamented the state of journalism in the world of 'fake' news; and we also talked about local brewers - good and bad. Linda and John are both experienced home brewers, so their opinions were something I valued.

The subject of the legalization of weed also came up, and the prevailing opinion (mine, anyway) was that the bloom had already fallen off that rose. Marijuana, we agreed, was not really legal. Just 'controlled.'

I knew they'd screw this up.

Rant over, I hit up Cameron's next and their First Light Session Lager, a four per cent beer that was top notch. I liked this one a lot and said so to Andrea at the booth, and we had a brief chat about the attendance at the festival.

"A little slow last night?" I ventured, "Meh," she replied with as much diplomacy as she could muster. "We're hoping for better things tonight."

Brock Street and their Bohemian Pilsner was next on my agenda and then I settled back in my chair for the entertainment, namely Justin Cooper, a guitarist/singer from Oshawa.

Justin, who (with his fellow musician buddy Greg) would join our table later, started off covering Ed Sheeran and Garth Brooks before bringing in the uber talented Sarah Fazackerley on flute for a country-rock cover of New Orleans is Sinking by the Tragically Hip.

Musicians Justin and Greg with the very
silvery King himself

I can tell you that this number - the greatest song in rock 'n roll, in my humble opinion - made me sit up and take notice. It took half a minute to get used to Justin's version but by the end I was really digging it, thanks in no small part to Sarah's flute playing.

Sarah took over the stage next (with Justin helping out on the beat box) and performed Sublime's What I Got before killing it with a soulful cover of Jolene, the song that made Dolly Parton a star.

Problem was no one, except our table, seemed to be paying attention.

Between sets Sarah came by for a chat with Josh, who she remembered from nights performing at the Atria in downtown Oshawa, back when my boy was booking acts and working sound for the club.

I needed more beer, so back I went into the breach, hitting up Chronicle again for their Harvest Ale and Falcon Brewery for ... damn, I didn't write it down and don't remember.

It was good, though.

Next up was Bancroft Brewery for their Black Quartz Dark Ale.

Owner Logan - a super nice guy - promised a "smoky coffee" flavour and he wasn't wrong, as I got campfire smoke and bitter coffee.

We chatted about the festival - he just shrugged when he looked at the sparse crowd, pointing out it was "the same last night" - and we talked long enough for me to try another of his beers. Ironman was an IPA that Linda had said was "really malty, but really good" and it was indeed, very British and pretty damn good.

As I had hit up every brewer - some twice - and I still had tickets left, I decided I'd plunk down a token at the Oshawa Brewing Company booth. I wanted to see if the beers had improved since I sampled them at Buster Rhino's shortly after this Brew-Your-Own business became a brewery a few months back.

Still some carbonation issues but Mango Sensation was fruity on the nose with plenty of mango. It tasted like mango fruit juice, so I guess that's something.

And then it was time for Sarah's second set, which included rousing renditions of Son of a Preacher Man and Go Ask Alice and an original tune called Say Nothing that was seriously fantastic.

I still had two more tickets - thanks to Josh - but as my legs were getting wobbly and I was starting to leave my sample glass in strange places, I figured these to be my last.

I had a Black & Tan (a mix of Creamed by Bickell and Ketchin Zeez) at the Manantler booth and finished with something from Bancroft (probably another Ironman) before heading out to the parking lot for a nosh (a monstrous grilled cheese sandwich called a Big Daddy) to fuel me for the ten minute wobble walk home.

All in all, not a bad pre-birthday bash. Thanks Josh!

Cheers!