Work or school?

By this summer, I’ll have successfully completed five years of post-secondary education, earning an honours bachelor’s degree in History, and a diploma in Journalism. The tricky part now is deciding whether to continue onward with education, or begin working in a career.
There are some decent career options available for me, and I have sent out applications to many of them. I have also applied to universities (at the undergraduate, and graduate levels) and colleges, just to make sure I keep my options open for the fall of 2010. The question, which I attempted to address in my recent Shield article is, how much education is enough? Is a diploma and a HBA enough? I don’t really know.
Sure, I could find myself in several careers that would be well-suited for me, and offer me a chance to advance, but what would be waiting for me if I took a few more years of education and specialization?
Could I combine the two streams, and hop into a career, while also doing distance/online education to further my studies? Sure, but do I want to juggle both of those demands?
At the moment I work and attend College, and I’ve been able to keep both up without either suffering for it. That being said, the challenge of it does not scare me, but I worry about the enjoyment in it. Would I be happy working full-time, and studying part-time? Who knows.
Today I stumbled upon some more research about Finland (which should not surprise anybody), which suggested that several of its residents speak English, and are accepting of English-speaking people. This discovery led me to once again look up English programs in the Finnish education system. As always, I was attracted to a few of the programs.
I wonder though, is it a pipe dream? Could I honestly travel to Finland for a few years to pursue my graduate degree? Could I leave Sudbury behind, along with my friends and family? I believe that I could.
The issue right now is money. Five years of post-secondary education come with a hefty price tag. My parents have helped me when they could, but I am still left with $19,000 in student debt. That sort of debt has a crippling effect on one’s freedom to pursue higher education abroad. I’ve been wondering if there is some way to get a grant, or some form of money, that would let me pursue my dream, but have so far not found anything.
Maybe if I work for a few years, I could save up enough money to explore educational opportunities in Europe, and not have to worry about the pressure on a student loan anymore.
However, I fear if I do not follow some of my dreams soon, while I am unattached and free, I may never get the chance to do so. Unfulfilled dreams and ambitions seem to be a life-long sentence for regret, and the last thing I want to live with is regret.

When aggression goes too far in sports

Sports are competitive in nature, and tend to bring out the aggressive side of a person’s personality. I’ve been an athlete for a long time now at 23 years old, and I’ve seen my fair share of aggression on the pitch, rink, and court. Usually these events are harmless, and are forgotten when the players walk off the pitch. However, occasionally something happens that should makes everybody take a step back and reflect on how much aggression is too much.
The reason I bring this up is simple. I witnessed and participated in a lot of soccer this week. Tuesday night, my indoor team, Mean Machine, participated in and won a playoff game. Some of my teammates and myself then watched Southend United play against the LU Gunners following our own game. Wednesday and Thursday night, I participated in the Sudbury Athletic’s annual 3 v 3 indoor soccer tournament at the Exhibition Centre, and there were a few events that struck a chord with me. It is important to note that this is a cash tournament, BUT it is held with fun in mind. That being said, the tournament was a success overall, besides the lack of attendance.
Getting back to my point, I felt this week of soccer, plus all of the recent controversy with headshots and ugly hits in the NHL, highlighted all that is ugly with “competitive” sports. The headshots have been discussed at length, so allow me to give a more local perspective by discussing this week in Sudbury indoor soccer. First of all, the leagues and the tournament are not even classified in the competitive realm of sports, as they are technically recreational sports. This classification provides even more punch to the shameful actions I witnessed this week.
The playoff game on Tuesday was nothing too out-of-the-ordinary. It featured some rough challenges, some fairly brutal fouls, and some insults that would result in brawls if they were said face-to-face at a local bar. The game between Southend United and LU Gunners was even chippier, and featured some very questionable challenges. Several cards were handed out by the referee, Giuseppe Politi, and they were mostly for dissent. The league is lucky Politi was reffing, because I wouldn’t have felt confident that many other referees could have kept that game from escalating more than it did. The amount of chirping was not altogether surprising, considering it was a men’s first division indoor game, and several of the players often forget the seriousness (or lack thereof) of the sports game they find themselves in. That is not a slight against Sudbury soccer just a realistic observation.
The most surprising thing about the game was the way the teammates communicated amongst themselves. Rather than offering any sort of positive reinforcement when a teammate made a mistake, many of the teammates pounced on one another at every opportunity. Both of the teams behaved in this manner. Rather than comforting their teammate, who already knew he had made a mistake, some members of the team would be quick to criticize the error in a shameful display of how NOT to be a leader. This sort of behavior would be completely unacceptable in the professional world, but seems to thrive amongst some of the athletes at more competitive levels of sport, in this city at least.
I had a discussion with several of my teammates regarding these issues, and though most agreed with me, some disagreed. The common arguments can be summarized by two explanations. The first argument was that these athletes play at a high level, and their aggression was a major reason for their success at that level, so they did not have a way of just turning it off. Anybody who has played sports with me understands that I respect playing an aggressive game. I am known as a fairly physical player, who can sometimes throw some fairly crushing slide tackles. I think the difference between my game and some others is a matter of intent. My slide tackles and challenges are never malicious, and my single career yellow card is a testament to that, as are the handshakes and compliments I often exchange with the players I guard. The second argument was that these athletes are very hard on themselves, and also carry these expectations over to their teammates. I understand having high expectations for yourself and your teammates, because I often play a leadership roles on the teams I play on. That being said, you would be hard-pressed to find a teammate I have ever yelled at, or put down for their actions (unless there actions are malicious, which I have a notoriously low tolerance for). There is a way to motivate your teammates and improve their play, without negativity. In my experience, it produces much better results as well.
Some of these problems carried over into the 3 v 3 Tournament, even though it featured only six men’s teams, and only one true competitor for 1st place. I want to speak to a specific series of events that occurred last night, which caused my team’s final game to end, and forced one of my teammates to visit the hospital. There was no foul called on the play, although I will not debate the merits of that here. The incident occurred in a consolation final to decide who the 3rd place team was. The game was not a rough one by any stretch of the imagination. Many players from the teams had played on teams together in the past, some are playing together currently, and there is generally a very high level of respect amongst the athletes who were playing against each other. Jokes bounced back and forth all game, there were smiles and laughter, and most of the players were very apologetic about their fouls. Our second half keeper, Derek Morgan, even corrected the referee, Greg Sutton, in a friendly manner and refused to take a goal kick because it was truly a corner kick. This action is an uncommon demonstration of sportsmanship.
So how did my player, Mike Laplante, become injured in such a friendly game? First, I will update you on the injury. Well, Morgan facebook messaged me this morning to update me on Laplante’s injury: “apparently Mike was pretty hurt, he spent most of the night in the hospital, underwent a CT scan and has bruising on his brain and can’t perform any physical activity for at least a week.” Notice what I’ve put in bold. Anytime a player suffers bruising on his brain, I consider it a serious injury.
There was another game being played inside this soccer game. Two players were battling each other fairly hard all game, which is fine in and of itself. The issue is that it started to go too far. Both players involved are known to play a physical game, which is fine. The problems arose when the player on my team began to hack the other player maliciously, and consistently. It was obvious their player was becoming frustrated, making several comments about the uncalled fouls. The situation reached a climax when my player fouled their player from behind, causing their player to fall and lose the ball. Upon taking the ball, my player mocked the other player and told him to get back up. Their player was enraged by this, and commented “oh, so that’s how it’s going to be buddy?” The rest of the game featured the two of them taking every opportunity to guard one another. Every time their player had the ball and ours was gunning for him, Ed Veilleux would urge, “no foul!” However, the cries were in vain, and the fouls continued from both sides, without calls.
Eventually, Laplante, a player that was not involved in the dispute in any way, had the ball and was running up the field. Their enraged player ran to catch up to him, and because he could not overtake him, decided to foul him viciously from behind. The player who challenged him from behind outweighs Laplante by an easy 60 pounds. When a player 60+ pounds heavier sweeps a player’s legs out from behind, there can only be one result. Mike flew through the air, landed awkwardly on his back and bounced his head off the floor. The floor is a thin layer of turf, covering solid concrete. Everyone stopped and stared. Laplante tried to get up. He sat up, and tried to get to his feet, but doubled over in pain, his hands shaking. He started coughing, and continued shaking. We crowded around him, helpless to really do anything. We asked if he was okay, he replied “no,” and gave up even trying to sit up. The referee ended the game early. We stood with Laplante, as he coughed and shook, and told us he tasted blood.
So what happens now? Nothing. There are always going to be aggressive players, and players who end up going too far when they are lost in anger. Ultimately, the referee is responsible for protecting players, and after that, the disciplinary committee is. The referee let a game slip away from him, a player lost control, and now someone has been seriously injured.
It is important to make one critical note. I’ve watched the player who committed the foul play for several years. He is not a malicious player generally, and it would be wrong to say that he meant to injure Laplante. I believe he meant to stop him, but had no idea this would be the result. I know the player feels very remorseful for his actions, and rightfully so. He acted with respect afterward and understood how poor his judgment was on committing the foul. He is not known as a goon in the league, or amongst players, and should not be as a result of this injury, as this injury was the result of an uncharacteristically poor judgment by him.
I want to offer advice to all athletes; calm down! Sure it is a competition, and you want to win, but in the end, it is just a game! Sports leagues don’t need to be polluted by players who can’t control their anger issues. If a player continues to hurt other players, it is up to the league they are in to toss them. Nobody should have to worry about damaging their brain when they’re out trying to have some fun. Act responsibly, and think of the example you’re setting for the younger generations of athletes. If you have aggression issues; grow up or get out.

Best game in town

The night fell upon me,
far colder than usual.

My sweat become icicles on the run,
my breath turned into fog from my lips,
as I was left with the thought of you,
and the frostbite of distant love.

“Why can’t it work,
when we both try,
we try,
we try
oh how we try…”

You deserve better than this,
you deserve real touch,
real emotions and love,
not a flash of what could be.

“And I wish only greatness followed you around…”
but that’s not how life is…
The bad memories and ghosts,
follow you to the end of days,
while love and hope wallow,
in the forgotten tombs of overgrown cemeteries,
where nature played for keeps,
and won the pot.

We’re all left naked at the table;
half embarrassed and half satisfied,
we knew we’d lose but still had hope.

The hope hurts the most because it’s heavy,
the embarrassment fades like the eyes of a vacant lover,
shameless, uncompromising, and completely understandable.

You’re naked and strung out,
losing the game of life,
to the force that created it.

Remember that life is a rigged game,
but it’s the best game in town.

Maybe you could be the one

Maybe you could be the one,
to reignite the fire in my veins,
and turn my life into something extraordinary.

To make every morning bright,
and every thought filled with love,
that beats it’s chest with pride and caring.

Or maybe you could be the one,
to destroy my life and dreams,
and turn my ambitions into foggy memories.

You might take the complete me,
and hollow it out into a ghost man,
where hope pours into a drain of apathy.

Maybe you could be the one,
I love for the rest of my life,
and touch how only lovers can;
or that I leave in a few months,
in a furious exchange of curses.

Who knows?

A volcanic body

The fire on my wings rips and spits,
through the sparse high-atmosphere air,
and volcanoes erupt off my fiery body,
in a terrifying, and furious fashion.

Passion travels like lava,
through chasms of molten veins,
emotion pumps to the surface of my skin,
fueling the purifying flames of my inferno.

Whose are the eyes that I will burn out,
and whose are the eyes I will bless with beauty?

And if another comes along,
to extinguish my loud flames,
and put out my burning feathers,
who will be the one to reignite my soul?

The clock ticks and tocks

Life is just happening to me;
I’ve lost the forward momentum,
and found myself unable to catch it.

I don’t know where I’ve been,
or who I’ve been there with.

Unsympathetic hands blend in,
with those of sympathy,
and the world is a wall,
of gray, blurry hands;
both accepting,
and refusing me.

I stare out beyond my borders,
and see the distress,
and and the excitement,
of every opportunity;
yet find myself unable to act,
incapable of moving forward.

I am reminded that,
“Anything but forward is a waste of time,”
but how do I stop wasting time?

The clock ticks,
and tocks,
without solutions.

March 5, 2010