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Posts Tagged ‘ atheltics ’

Stereotype greezee gangster

Posted on March 18th, 2010 – 5 Comments

For some reason I always fail to properly explain why I think the name “Don Valley” is so much fun. It’s probably because I have a crap Italian accent, but imagine saying that name with a good one. By that I mean borderline comical. Call him “Don Valli” if it helps the imagination. Add about forty percent stereotype greezee gangster into the mix and you’ve got yourself a one spicy meatball.

“Don Valli don give no favers to no ones, see? Especially not to rat basterds like yous!”

Unfortunately, the Don is not currently in a position to make any demands. As a recent Star article points out, it’s mostly a heap of mud and rocks at the moment:

Yup. Not much to look at. But apparently what you’re looking at in the photo will be the tower on the left below:

west don lands, parkway, river city, pan american games, 2015, construction, toronto, city, life

I’m still not sure exactly how this is supposed to work, but this River City project sounds like a mix of for-sale condos, social housing, and rooms for athletes in the 2015 Pan-Am games. Once the games are done, those will presumably go up for sale as well. They’re expecting the whole 4-phase construction to take up to ten years. Which probably means fifteen. The scale of the project seems ginormous; “City” doesn’t seem entirely inappropriate.

They plan to create two parks in the area, one of them under the wide Eastern Avenue overpass. That should be interesting. Better than what`s there now:

And these tracks run both regular trains and GO trains. This one happens to go to Markham. The locals seem to put up with it but it’s woefully inadequate if we’re hosting guests from other countries.

We should be gracious hosts and show them it’s okay to spend their bolivianos / reals / guaranis / nuevo sols / bolivars / colons / quetzals / lempiras / cordobas / krones / pesos / euros / dollars here.

Filed under: B Sides, Pictures

Once a thriftapenny always a sober jerk

Posted on December 2nd, 2009 – 6 Comments

Wednesday mornings are always a bit tenuous, aren’t they? Technically they’re at the foot of the hump, but you still have a few hours just to get there. Only then you can start the countdown, and the drinking really can’t even properly start until much later. Wednesday mornings are the stale farts of the week.

Luckily, there are always a few interesting things that I pass on my way to the next eight hours of numbing anguish – things that punctuate the doom as if to suggest that, maybe, there is hope. There’s the very real possibility that I’m simply reading too much into them, but I need all the straws I can grasp onto these days. Especially on Wednesday mornings.

On this particular mid-week sulk I trudged up behind Cam Woolley who, along with his CP24 cameraman, were making googly eyes at Maple Leaf Gardens across the street:

They were there to do a report on the deal that the Loblaw supermarket chain and Ryerson University made to finally do something with the Gardens. The place has been on ice for years, and aside from a TV show that was shot there, it really only served as cover for a late-night whiz. With a shot of cash from the feds, Ryerson’s going to make the place into an athletics building (the campus is made up mostly of acquired buildings downtown), and Loblaw’s going to stick a supermarket in there. Big shock on that one.

Despite being an atypically traitorous Canuck who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about hockey, I will once again go on record as saying that this is a travesty. As a Ryerson sports hall, the Gardens building is fine, but as a supermarket … jeez, eh? The thing was built in the style of a Depression era nuclear war bunker. It’s designed for large, rowdy crowds with boozy cognition. The building even had a bowling alley somewhere on the upper level when it was first built – during those days people loved to roll their great big balls around while watching the boys work their sticks below. Ahh, the thirties. So the building can withstand a beating, but it ain’t pretty:

That feeling of being entombed in concrete will certainly give the grocery store an ambiance. And the urine, the beery urine, that’s still embedded in the crevices of every darkened corner of the building. I wouldn’t like to have that nearby as I test melons.

But hey, maybe they’ll make it work somehow; beer carts and such. A tipple for the little ones and shopping’s a-okay again. And perhaps, once a thriftapenny always a sober jerk, as the old saying goes, so I think the idea has some merit. Why would they make up a saying like that if it was wrong or meaningless?

I kept mulling over the possibilities as I walked past the Gardens and down into Carlton Station. There was a notice bearing some bad news in the vicinity but this, dear reader, I’ll have to share another time because Wednesday’s just a little too incongruous already to toss that into the mix. There are better coping days.

I simply continued on to the ticket booth.

“Ten tokens please.”

“All out.”

“Really? I could buy less, I just need a few.”

“Really, all out. We have tickets though.”

“Paper tickets?”

“Paper tickets.”

Holy shit :D I hadn’t held a paper TTC ticket in my sweaty hand since I was in high school. They were smaller then and had a different motif, but the obvious ease with which they could be reproduced made them targets for amateur counterfeiters. Or aspiring amateur counterfeiters. And then I discovered these things’ll be valid until the beginning of next year — all the makings of a scheme! :)

Okay, Wednesday, it’s a good start. But we gotta do something about that hump, it’s just unsightly.