TEAM CANADA
over the size of the mob that had formed around us that they intervened. The security scowled at us for being reckless, and dragged us out. The crowd loved this even more and we now had the first members of “Andy’s people”. I feel like we had now safely secured a home-field advantage for every game that didn’t involve playing against their beloved home nation. I love Colombia.
The next day was a free day and we decided to check out the Men’s Canadian Roller Hockey team. We show up to the rink where there is a massive queue of school aged kids lined up to get in. No matter, as apparently fellow athletes are allowed to walk to the front of the line and go through a separate door reserved for “VIP’s”. The existence of this door was not news to me as I have seen many like it throughout my life, except I was much more accustomed to seeing it from the perspective of someone standing in the massive queue for hours watching as people supposedly more important than I got to walk right in. All that angst I felt towards those other people for being so special conveniently didn’t come up this time, as I was now the “special” person. But of course, getting into the stadium was no speedy task as, naturally, we had to pose for photographs with the adoring kids outside. Heaps and heaps of photographs. If we thought the previous night’s popularity photo shoot was going to die down anytime soon, we were sorely mistaken. No bother, I was having a blast being a celebrity! The Canadian team won, beating an over matched Colombian team who I am fairly certain our co-ed Frisbee team could have beaten in a game of roller hockey.
The next experience was the cafeteria. A giant food tent set up in a parking lot where they fed all the athletes continuously throughout the day. It presented a great opportunity to socialize with other athletes from different sports and countries. There, I met a Colombian duathlete who couldn’t have been more than 17 years old. Interesting chap.
The next day we had our scheduled training session in the stadium (the same stadium that was used for the opening ceremonies). The bus that was scheduled to pick us up from the hotel was running on “Colombian time”, which meant it was late and no one knew where it was or when it would show up. After waiting long enough, we decided to jump into 3 cabs that felt more like Smart cars with the space saving ability to fit 5 passengers. This is where we met Eduardo, our personal Transito (transit cop). Eduardo was spectacular. He would speed on ahead of us blocking traffic and forcing slower drivers pull over to the side so that our cab could speedily zip through Cali’s downtown traffic like it didn’t even exist. We got to the stadium in less than half the time it had taken previously. I love Colombia.
Next was the first day of games. This time the bus came and picked us up prompt, a private coach style bus just for us. Led by our newest friend Eduardo, with Jon and Gustavo, our personal Policia, also on board, we reached the stadium rather comfortably. The bus pulled up to the back of the stadium where there was a player’s only entrance. The scene was
28 Ultimate Canada Magazine -
www.canadianultimate.com
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