I was listening to the radio, some old classic rock tunes playing through my ears whilst I walked and I wondered where to take my legs next. Were it not for the radio announcer providing me with an update on the local pedestrian traffic downtown, I likely would not have found myself at Yonge & Dundas square next.
There, I sat down in a tired heap and waited for entertainment, and entertained I was, for there were three giant TV screens broadcasting live from Nathan Philips Square, the biggest enclave of Jurrasic parkians to be found in Toronto. The mayor, the premier, and even the prime minister were to be seen smiling at the crown and exchanging pleasant formalities with fans and players alike.
Then, a curious thing happened. An announcer not part of the television broadcasts went up on stage at Yonge & Dundas and told everyone to remain calm, and to please not panic, and that more information would be provided shortly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and for a while nothing was out of the ordinary, save for an eerie feeling of unease caused by the rather vague and disconcerting comments by the official.
Minutes later, screaming - and an sudden rush of people. I felt trapped like a skiier caught in an avalanche, and in a split second had to make a choice: get swallowed up by the human stampede or try my best to get the hell out of dodge.
Well, I got the hell out of dodge with a scraped knee and the avalanche of people subsided. Still in a daze, I looked around at the spot where I had been sitting and there was sticky, sugary garbage everywhere.
I shan't forget the June of this year, the month where the Toronto Raptors basketball team won and caused ripples of energy to cascade. And I'm thankful that unlike some other cities, we don't riot over sports. We party, play, and work hard, and that's how we won the NBA championship.
For 2020: GO LEAFS GO!
