OK, so despite the fact that the Argos failed to make it, we're very much looking forward to the festivities of Grey Cup week. But before we put the East final to bed, we have one last story to pass along.

After the game we were walking up John Street when two fans decided that they couldn't wait until they made it to their destination and started to relive themselves on the CBC building. Not too much notable there, Chris Walby probably does this every couple of weeks. However, just 20 feet away stood a gentlemen who was watching the scene unfold and shaking his head very slightly. His mouth slightly agape, his eyes projecting the look of a man who was watching the most horrific scene of his life play out...

So have a great time during Grey Cup week. Enjoy the city and the new friends you are sure to make.  Just don't take a piss on the CBC building.  Peter Mansbridge might not be able to handle it happening again. 

We’ll get back to our regularly scheduled football blogging momentarily, but in the meantime, we’d like to share another lesson we learned at Grey Cup week: Some Winnipegers aren’t especially fond of Brad Banks. Or chairs, for that matter.

During the Harlequin II concert, we found ourselves talking with a particularly rabid and only slightly aggressive Bombers fan. He was joking around about how the Bombers were going to steal Arland Bruce III back, or about the elaborate plan to relocate Pinball to the Prairies. A good chuckle was had by all… until he mentioned that the Bombers could use Damon Allen.

“Damon? You guys don’t need Damon, you’ve already got Brad Banks.”
Bomber Fans are Apparently Harsher than Hawkeye Fans Now, when I said this, I meant it as a compliment. Brad Banks was pretty decent in Ottawa, and while he wasn’t great in the Peg this year, he has shown some potential in the past. But uur new friend apparently didn’t agree with me. Instead, he stared blankly for seven or eight seconds as he tried to process this information; all the while his face was getting redder... and redder... and redder.

“F*** Brad Banks!" he finally bellowed. "F*** him!” At this point, he stood up to leave and we shook his hand to wish him well. However, his Banks rage wasn’t over with and something had to pay the price.

He strode confidently over to one of the folding chairs we were sitting on, picked it up, and hurled it behind him…. right at the feet at one of Winnipeg’s finest.

To the officer’s credit, he realized that the fan wasn’t trying to cause any harm and didn't eject him from the concert. But it took us a while to figure out why our new friend opted to throw a chair at someone’s feet (even if it was unintentional) - and finally, we got it. In order to show some respect for another quarterback rumoured to be the Bombers QB next year, he was simply doing his best impression of an Anthony Calvillo pass to Dave Stala.

We salute you, sir.

With our four-day Winnipeg binge drawing tantalizingly, alarmingly close, there's only one way to get into the spirit - fuzzy reminiscing about drunken moments at Grey Cup parties, Grey Cup afterparties, and maybe even Grey Cup games. In honour of the newest member of the Fort Erie city council, we bring you a genuinely heartwarming memory from the Argos post-game celebrations in '04.

***

Allow us to set the scene. It's roughly 4:00 a.m., the Argos are a few hours removed from winning the Grey Cup, and we're pretty sure our night's not going to get much better. Having weaseled our way into their post-game party at an Ottawa nightclub, we've already witnessed everything from Arland Bruce's awesome fashion sense to Tony Miles' drunken attempts at conversation to Romaro Miller's phenomenal game. And so we've staggered into Dunn's for some smoked meat sandwiches, hopefully to be consumed before we collapse.

Our meal begins in less than promising fashion, courtesy the arrival at our table of a rather scraggly and thoroughly inebriated gentleman who proceeds to engage us in twenty minutes of inane conversation. (Him: Tomorrow, I'm going to call down to Vegas and place a bet that Damon Allen's going to play another year. Us: Really? They're taking bets on that now? Him: Oh yeah. You bet. I'm calling tomorrow.)

But then, out of the corner of our eye, we notice something. Seated in a corner booth, minding his own business, is Sandy Annunziata - with the Grey Cup sitting in the booth next to him.

Every Canadian bone in our bodies tells us to leave the man alone. But every beer in our bodies tells us to make our move, forthwith. And so we approach Sandy, offer our hearty congratulations, and ask if we can take a picture with him and the Cup. (Just to be clear, we have no affilation whatsoever with those two people at the front of said picture. Truth be told, we can't really remember who they are.)

The next thing we know, we're holding the Cup as it's passed among us. Truthfully, we have no idea what Sandy's teammates would've thought of this. But to our minds, it made him quite possibly the greatest person ever elected to Fort Erie's city council.

This has been your Grey Cup moment. (You were expecting something snide, weren't you? What can we tell you...we get sentimental this time of year.) 

With our four-day Winnipeg binge drawing tantalizingly, alarmingly close, there's only one way to get into the spirit - fuzzy reminiscing about drunken moments at Grey Cup parties, Grey Cup afterparties, and maybe even Grey Cup games. With gophergate dominating the nation's headlines, today's edition answers the age-old question: Can mascots talk?

***

If you know us even a bit, you know we love us our mascots. So it goes without saying that we're thoroughly enjoying the epic battle that's ensued from the Stamps' decision to ban Gainer the Gopher from Sunday's West Division Semifinal. As if the outcry wasn't enough, now we've got Ralph Klein wading in - and really, what better cause to take up in your final days in office than opposing another city's rodent. But what intrigues and inspires us most is Gainer's television appearance in which he let a provincial minister answer an interviewer's questions, refusing to do anything more than stoically shake his head.

What does this have to do with a Grey Cup moment? Well, see, we've always assumed that the mascot code explicitly forbids them from talking, which makes sense - if you're looking at a giant gopher, dog or inflatable bird, it's a little disillusioning if it speaks in the voice of the poor bastard who's stuck inside. But as we learned at Grey Cup '04, not every mascot has Gainer's admirable self-control.

Allow us to once more set the scene. Having just exited the restroom at the Spirit of Edmonton party, we're moving through a narrow throughway when the entire Roughriders cheerleading squad comes through moving in the other direction, cornering us in one spot as we wait for them to pass.

We glance beside us, and standing there is a Ticats mascot - not Pigskin Pete, sadly, but the oversized cat known as Stripes. Our eyes meet, and we nod at each other in that manly way that men and felines always do when they're surrounded by a pack of tiny women in equally tiny skirts. "Hello," we say, because we can't think of anything else to say. "Hello," Stripes replies in a decidedly human voice. And as we do some more awkward nodding, we detect a hint of shame on Stripes' part, realizing that he had violated the mascots' sacred code.

Reassuringly, we're reminded the next day that some mascots have better restraint. Striding up to the Argo Bounce (R.I.P.), we attempt to goad him into talking. When he holds firm, we inform him that the Hamilton mascot talks. This earns us only a curt nod, and the Argo Bounce promptly makes his escape, on to thrill the masses with his silent charm. And we nod, this time in approval rather than lechery, knowing that this is a mascot.

This has been your Grey Cup moment. 

With our four-day Winnipeg binge drawing tantalizingly, alarmingly close, there's only one way to get into the spirit - fuzzy reminiscing about drunken moments at Grey Cup parties, Grey Cup afterparties, and maybe even Grey Cup games. Today, we start with a particularly touching story about a retired receiver's allegedly busy hands.

***

Allow us to set the scene. It's Grey Cup '05, in Vancouver, and we're in Riderville. On the balcony, there's a middle-aged gentleman in green dreadlocks oggling unsuspecting young women entering the nightclub below, and occasionally informing them that "I've got my eye on you." In the bathroom, there's a copious supply of green vomit and a Saskatchewanian explaining that it represents "Rider pride." In the main room, the Alouettes' and Eskimos' dance teams are having some sort of dance-off that threatens to turn into a brawl. And off to the side, we're chatting with a very affable young fan who opts to tell us about his favourite Grey Cup experience - a story we have some serious doubts about, but find pretty inspiring either way.

According to this legend, he and his then-girlfriend were enjoying the Grey Cup revelry a previous year when they happened upon Darren Flutie, and decided to pose for a photo with him. In the midst of said photo, Flutie supposedly decided it was an opportune moment to grope the young lady's chest (our friend put it slightly less delicately) - and then proceded to explain that this sort of interaction between players and fans is what makes the Grey Cup so great.

Again, we have no idea if this actually happened. But it doesn't much matter. The best part wasn't the alleged groping, or even Flutie's supposed explanation of what a wondrous experience it is to be touched inappropriately by him - it's that the fan was firmly of the view that the best possible thing that could happen to him at the Grey Cup was for his girlfriend to be fondled by a CFL player. Or, as he put it: "That was the greatest picture ever."

This has been your Grey Cup moment.