Yesterday, Poles Apart officially became a book on its formal release date. You should now be able to find it in bookstores across the country. I celebrated last night by helping our ball hockey team, and I use the word “helping” loosely, win our second consecutive championship before heading off to the hospital ER to have my chin sewn up. In a brilliant play that may have changed the face of our game, perhaps even the face of hockey itself, and certainly my own face, I managed to dive and clear the ball from our zone while shorthanded, and then, because the dive on its own wasn’t quite dramatic enough, I decided to smash my chin on the concrete floor. (There’s not a lot of give in that concrete floor.) The good news is we won the championship. The bad news is I now have four stitches in my chin as I embark on some book-related travels to Woodstock, Surrey, Victoria, and Ottawa with seven speaking gigs in the next seven days. I’m hoping to at least get a cleft chin out of it.
Don’t be confused. My twin brother, Tim, is kneeling in the front row while I’m standing on the right.