33,385 Words on Day 20

I am going to post a longer excerpt than usual, I just really loved this press conference that I wrote today, it was very fun to write, and inspired by a friend who gave me a list of questions that he thought would be funny to ask Ron Tortellini. Naturally, I borrowed heavily from others. Those of you who aren't Katie, please excuse the lengthy hockey reference, I think you'll be able to battle through it though. Ron Tortellini is becoming a bigger character than I had imagined he would.

If he would have been paying attention, he would have seen that the press conference was a real ‘corker’, not that Jake would have used the word, since he generally disapproved of its use. It seems that all the sports reporters in the room, not just Jake’s friends, had cottoned on to the fact that this was quite simply, a clusterfuck. Tortellini was uncharacteristically unflappable. Perhaps it was because the season hadn’t started yet, and he hadn’t yet had to endure the Leafs firecracker October start, only to slide into a winless funk sometime in November, which would run until some time in April, at which point the Leafs would wake from their narcissistic slumber, take a look around, and notice that they were sharing the shit bottom of the standings with the likes of the goddamn New York Islanders for Christ’s sake, as well as the Montreal Canadiens, who absolutely fucking imploded this year and yet here we are. Yes, perhaps it was because that was not only something he had not yet had to endure, but something he might not have to endure at all, given that the season might not happen. In any case, Tortellini was in a fine mood, which led to a complete devolution as the questions ceased to even be about hockey, but just to try to piss of the man who people loved to see pissed off.
“Ok…” Ron looked around the room, “Phil Carr, let’s hear it.”
“Yes sir, I was just wondering, briefs or boxers?”
“Damien Cox.”
“What do you think are more effective, toothpicks or dental floss?”
“Christie Blatchford, what are you doing here? You don’t even report on the news, you just write slanted, right wing bullshit for the worst paper in town. Shouldn’t you be somewhere writing an article about how global warming doesn’t exist?” Ron asked, sneering.
“Well, sir, I’m actually here because I don’t need to do any research or background work to write my articles. In fact, I often find that the facts get in the way of the stories I want to tell.” Christie Blatchford replied. “So, what I want to know is, can you confirm that despite statistics gathered by pinko commie ‘criminologists’ that demonstrate that all types of violent crime are on the decrease in all of Canada’s large cities, and have been since the 80s, violent crime is in fact on the rise, that anecdotal evidence is vastly more useful than carefully gathered objective data and also, while you’re at it, that most modern day scientists are indeed in league with the socialists who want to turn Canada into the next Cuba?”
“I cannot confirm that. But I would like you to quote me as saying that Farmers Feed Cities.” Ron responded. It was the only question he answered that day, and he answered the question, not out of respect for Christie Blatchford, who he knew would never publish a word of it, but for the cameras. He was hopeful that it would make its way onto YouTube and that people in cities everywhere would rise up in support of farmers, when they realized the shocking truth. That farmers provide food to cities. It was a brilliant manoeuvre. Well played, Torts, well played indeed.
The questions began to come faster now, with Ron no longer even calling upon reporters to ask them.
“Do you like pasta, Ron?”
“Did you see 24/7?”
“Were you a fan of Happy Days, and if so, do you remain a fan?”
Jake heard none of this, though later he would have the opportunity to perform a google video search, where he entered the words “Toronto Sports Reporters Drunk”, and if he scrolled down, it would be the fifth video on the list, and he would be able to watch the entire press conference. If Jake would have been paying attention to the press conference, rather than to his inner turmoil, he might have delivered the question that might have shaken Ron Tortellini to the core. “Is it true that a secret organization exists in support of fighting in hockey, that this secret cult calls itself ‘Five for Fighting’, that this group is often confused with the American singer-songwriter with the aforementioned stage name, despite the fact that those goons clearly couldn’t write a song as tender and insightful as ‘100 Years,’ or as pain-ridden as ‘Superman (It’s Not Easy), even if given liberal access to 100 typewriters over the course of 100 years?. And further, is it true that Justin Bieber is widely believed to be not only a member, but the group’s choreographer?” Sadly, Jake was not paying attention, and this insightful series of questions would remain unasked by the Toronto sports journalism representatives.