A Boy and his BlackBerry

Reunited. And it feels so good.

There’s luck. And then there’s being really lucky. 

This is the story of how I got my phone back. It’s one that’s filled with despair, desperation and dedication.

It starts one fateful Sunday afternoon as I’m off to edit a three part series for school. There is no phone in my pocket – “one less distraction” I say to myself. At the time, it was the least of my concerns.

But it wasn’t.

Fast forward to 11pm. The scene: my living room, home to the frantic search for a cell phone that can’t be traced. Where is it?

Indeed where was it? Did I drop it?

Outside it was snowing merrily, with nonchalance as if to say, I’m here to trouble you more.

And off I go back to school. The great cell phone hunt has begun.

Plastic bags on my knees, double layers on, with my warmest hat, mitts and scarf I search amidst the snow – on all fours – for a tiny minuscule BlackBerry. A BlackBerry that is the very lifeblood of my fledging journalism career.

It was nowhere to be found.

Dejected I lay in bed, but not before sweeping my apartment’s parking lot one last time. The clock stuck 1 o’clock.

“I have a class in 7 hours,” I say to myself. “This is futile.”

And so Sunday turned Monday. And the search resumed. The snow was receding, the ground was slowly exposing itself. But still no BlackBerry.

“It’s going straight to voicemail. The phone is lost forever.”

But a part of me kept me from calling my service provider. No, I’d wait it out a bit more, unless there was drastic usage on my phone’s account. There wasn’t. 24 hours had passed.

For a guy who lived 17 years of his life without a cell phone, one day without one was tough.

It was rough.

But still, there was no cell phone.

And so Tuesday dawned bright and sunny. It was the perfect day. It was my day off, and all efforts were directed to locating this cell phone. I was due in Leamington on Wednesday. Would I be willing to make the trip with no proper means of communication?

Unlikely.

And then, almost as if something called out to me, I tried to track my phone online. It was just after noon.

There was a trace. Not two kilometres away. Suddenly there was hope. A hope that increased when the phone was accurately tracked to within 7 metres.

“But how did the phone reach there?” I hadn’t been in the area in almost three weeks. This was one of life’s great mysteries.

Four hours later, after some frantic dialing to see if someone will answer the phone, I set out to see who has my phone.

Now, there are plenty of stupid things that one can do. And this was right up there. Picture walking up a stranger’s driveway, and asking them if they had your missing (possibly stolen) phone? Crazy right?

But there was hope.

And so with an able sidekick in Greg, Starsky and Hutch, as he termed our duo, we approached our first potential location.

The door opens. And a man, morbidly obese with a vest and shorts, walks out.

“Can I help you?”

We didn’t know whether to talk or to run.

“I know this sounds weird sir. But would you have happened to have seen a cell phone?” I ask, nervously. “I lost mine and tracked it to one of these houses.”

“No, I haven’t sorry!”

And that was it. Was he lying? There was no way we could be sure.

The other house, his neighbour, was not home. And it was almost dark. The bubble of joy, burst.

Twenty minutes later, a little McDonalds cheered me up. I mean, is there anything that a McNugget can’t do? It was just past six o’clock now.

“Let’s give it one more shot before I drop you home Greg,” I say. “Maybe they’re home now.”

And so, back we go. This time there’s activity in the once empty house. Two cars are on the driveway. This is it.

I go up to the door, and ring the bell. Just like before.

“Can I help you?” asks a tall, greying man.

“Yes. Would you perhaps have seen a BlackBerry lying about? I lost mine, and tracked it to one of these houses. I know this sounds crazy.”

“No. No.” he said. “Is it a Z10?”

I was shocked and happy at the same time.

“Yes. A black one.”

“Come on in. My son found one yesterday in the Fanshawe parking lot.”

And once inside, his wife hands me a badly damaged cell phone. It’s still working, but the display would need some major repairs.

I didn’t quite catch their names. I’m now wishing I did as I recall my adventures.

“How did you know it was here?” asked the lady.

“Tracked it online. The phone was on and I got a signal.”

“That’s amazing!”

It sure was. And then we spoke for fifteen minutes, mostly about how I was able to locate the phone.

You see it turns out that Brandon, who works at Fanshawe College found the phone on Monday evening and took it home. He meant to bring it to school the next day, but forgot. His dad, a BlackBerry user himself, turned it on to see if he could try and reach the owner.

“That was the smartest thing you did sir,” I say exuberantly.

“It kept going off and I couldn’t answer it,” said the lady. “Wou

I’d thought I lost the phone somewhere. And the chances of finding it were pretty slim. But no, there was hope.

Brandon had saved the day.

I’ve tried to reach out to Brandon at Fanshawe a number of times now. But our paths don’t seem to cross. Sure the phone was damaged; a vehicle had driven over it. But Brandon had saved me a lot of money.

So Brandon, if you ever read this, and we’re unable to meet: Thank You. This means a lot to me. 

If we do ever meet, and I hope we do, there's a beer or two in it for you.

My Adventures with the London Majors

Meet the Upside-down Man.

I grew up without baseball. Until around 2010 I was convinced the sport wasn’t worth my time. But such is life, as days, weeks and months pass by.

Times change; people change.

And there I was, bright and early at Labatt Park, auditioning for a hosting gig with the London Majors on Rogers TV. I’d never been given the chance to audition before, although I've heard snide remarks as to why, but let’s not go there.

These adventures are fun.

How much fun you ask?

Think Jacob Raffaele and the upside-down man (pictured). Think sitting drenched in the home dug out waiting for a sudden thunderstorm to pass by, enjoying the camaraderie that the players put on for themselves.

Think trying to tell people about baseball on live TV while learning the game myself. I know you can do it; I’m here to prove that I can too.

And again, I didn't grow up with baseball.

These are my adventures with the London Majors.

Trust me; I’m still in shock that Rogers TV would give a guy with next to no knowledge about a sport, the chance to be part of a broadcast team. It must have been the cricket knowledge; even Kiwi pitcher Andrew Marck thinks so.

“Did you watch the Champions Trophy?” Marck and I talked about in June.

“A little, did you?”

“Yes, bit gutted that New Zealand lost the other day.”

At least we understood each other. Picture an American and a Canadian meeting in Singapore, the hockey talk is bound to flow like running water.

“Kris, maybe we could throw in a cricket report in there somewhere,” I've said on more than one occasion.

You hit a home run, it’s called a six. You’re grounded out at second base, it’s called a run out. See, it’s all there. Somewhere, anyway!

And then there’s Cleveland.

Big Cleveland Brownlee, from Atlanta, Georgia, positioned at first base less than ten feet from me each broadcast.

“Attaboy Cleve!” yells scores of fans from the bleachers. “You go Cleve!”

And I’m thrust in the middle of it all.

“Cleveland will hit home runs, the fans can be assured of that,” Brownlee smirked early on in the season.

He did. Thirteen of them in fact, many of them jaw droppers.

Jaw droppers; like the time I first faced a camera on live TV. It’s no easy task, indirectly looking at the tens, hundreds perhaps thousands of people who watch you week in and week out through a camera lens. It sure looks easy, I can tell you that, but you've got a hundred different thoughts racing through your head.

“What if I forget the most important line? Suppose I mix up the teams playing? Or maybe you mispronounce a word, or ten.”

But in the end all that’s worth it. Trust me.

I've had a whale of a good time hosting Majors broadcasts this summer. In fact, it’s the only reason I didn't take off for home. I could have done without the summer job; I could have done with some time home, running into people I went to high school with. I could have been enjoying the sunny skies of the Indian subcontinent.

But instead, I’m in London, Ontario.

As a broadcaster you’re told to stay professional, in front of celebrities: no autographs, no photographs. But that doesn't stop us from having fun.

No.

“I go out to try and get my five strike outs as quickly as possible,” chimes in Jordan Townshend. “Otherwise I’ll have hungry and not angry fans behind my back all the while.”

There was a smirk or two when I put that into the broadcast, I’m sure of it. For when there’s free wings on offer at each game, walking away wingless seems wrong.

“Do you like Sachin [Tendulkar]?” this coming from Marck once again.

Yes. Again that’s something that only the two of us understood at Labatt Park.

Here’s the thing: when you cover a sports team, you get along with a ton of players. You know the players, and they know you. There's times you ask them how things are away from the game.

"My man, how you're doing?" goes Brownlee every time as he goes for a high five.

Maybe you know when a player's getting married, or when they’re going off to dental school.

Maybe you know what company they work for in addition to playing baseball in the Intercounty Baseball League.

When Rogers brought in the HD mobile for the first time, we were all excited. “Better beat Toronto tonight, it’ll be in high definition,” the motto from the truck to the players. So much so, no one had ever seen Labatt Park in HD before, we spent an extra minute showing off the park's beauty on live TV.

But that brought its own sets of problems, for us anyways. The broadcast crew continued to do what they did before. The players continued likewise.

What about the ‘talent’?

“Is my beard trimmed enough?” we joked.

But in seriousness, it’s as nerve-racking a job as any. And I love every second of it.

People recognize you, at times, anyway. "You're the Majors host are you not?" I've heard in the bus on occasion. That's what you hope for as a youngster, that people will recognize you. Maybe someday on a much grander scale.

But back on ground level, I’m not ashamed at walking up to away team coaches and asking them if there’s something specific they want to talk about. I figure everyone’s got to learn somewhere, why not at the IBL level.

As the Majors get set for playoffs in 2013, with a seemingly buoyant attitude that this is their year, so too are we as the TV crew. 

"I think the Brantford Red Sox are getting old," says catcher turned third baseman turned second baseman Derrik Strzalkowski. "They're also getting tired of winning."

Tired maybe, but we certainly aren't.

Do I want to be back for next season? Of course. But that’s a decision for the Rogers TV top brass to make. I now know what a sac fly is, and what a stand up double is. Surely that’s got to mean something right?

For now, it's taking one game at a time, and to use a sports cliché, it's the chance to learn something new everyday.

My adventures with the London Majors, that’s something I’ll always have with me. Forever.

Playball!

It’s over. Or is it?

Frozen.

Ah, college. It’s been quite a ride; I’ll tell you that much right off the top. You know how Hollywood fills your head with notions of what college or university might be like.It's a little different than that I'm afraid.

Walking through the doors of Fanshawe College in the last week of August 2011 for orientation was surreal; walking out of the doors June 18, 2013 as a college graduate, I’ve got no words to describe that.

Except maybe we did it, to everyone who graduated alongside me.

Imagine walking into a room, a large room at that and sitting at the first available seat. Everyone's a stranger. Everyone in that room is keeping to themselves. And then a large group enters. But this group is not as stiff as those seated. No, this one’s loud and so full of life.

They’re second years, we’re told.

They were supposedly like us only a year ago – shy, quiet, nervous - and we’d be exactly like them in one year when we become quote 'second' years. Jump ahead one year, and yes, we were exactly like them – loud, jovial as if to say there’s no other place we’d rather be.

Now that convocation is done, my first one I might add, since high school back home don't have these elaborate ceremonies to celebrate moving on to the next stage of life, the only thing left of those two exhilarating years are memories.

I came to this country with three suitcases, and a dream. And while my possessions have most certainly increased over time, my dream’s only gotten bigger, and better too. Gone are the days where I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Gone are the days where everyone, but me seemed to know what was taught in class. High school was fun, tons of fun. But in the sense, not being taught the arts, was well, a bummer, for lack of a better word.

Year one of college zipped by in the blink of an eye. Had I blinked, I’d have probably missed most of it. But over that, the seemingly momentary instances were filled with solid lessons for life. And of course, I’d be nowhere if it wasn’t for the people I went to school with. They people, who took time out of their schedule to help this alien, settle down.

And settle he did.

Year two came by and there were yet more people to meet, more relationships to perhaps carve and nurture as time wore on. And with that came the workload. You see what we did, and with no disrespect to anyone, is not for the weary. You’ve got so much to do and so little time, it seems impossible.

Almost impossible.

But it’s now done. And when I look back I see accomplishments that I never saw coming. I see challenges that seemed unfathomable that were tackled in some style.

I see success.

So what does life have in store for me? I do not know. Next year though, is already shaping to be bigger and even better than ever before. Gone are the days where I’d hear “It’s Victor Kaisar” loudly every time I entered a party, albeit let’s hope it’s only a momentary absence for that phrase.

As Fanshawe College president Dr. Howard Rundle put it in his final convocation speech, “No longer will everyone who works with you be solely focused on your success.” This is the ‘big boy life’ that I’d heard so much about while growing up. That stage in life where you leave the nest and try to spread your wings. The part of life where you begin to actually make decisions that will shape how your life turns out. The part of life where sometimes you wish you were the ten year old who couldn’t decide if he’d have one or two popsicle sticks after lunch. The world’s a scary place, don’t you worry about that.

But hey, you get used to it.

Barrie Colts Strike First in OHL Finals

Puck drop between the London Knights and the Barrie Colts

Call it deja vu. Almost.

The Barrie Colts struck first blood in the Ontario Hockey League finals, beating the London Knights 4-2 in game one Friday evening.

Unlike the Niagara IceDogs from last season, they didn’t need double overtime.

The Colts grabbed the second-period lead and held off a late Knights rally in front of 9,046 at Budweiser Gardens.

"That's the plan," said Colts head coach Dale Hawerchuk. "You come in here and try to win the hockey game, and the boys were able to do that. Mathias [Niederberger] had a great game for us."

Niederberger, a German native and overager for Barrie was a rock in net, stopping 40 of 42 shots, not counting the numerous blocked shots as London turned up the pressure late in the third period searching for a tying goal.

His counterpart, Knights' Anthony Stolarz stopped 24 of 27 shots, making this the fifth straight start where he's let in three or more goals.

Ryan Rupert opened the scoring for the defending champions early in the second period, after a terrific pass from captain Scott Harrington. Ex Knight Andreas Athanasiou wasted no time to make a mark on his return to London and tied things up two minutes later, leading to a barrage of boos from the London faithful.

“We had our chances and didn’t bury on them,” lamented a sombre looking Knights head coach Dale
Hunter, “and that was the difference.”

Needing two goals for most of the third period, London’s Alex Broadhurst beat Niederberger glove high on the power play off a Claude Lemieux penalty, bringing the Knights to within one, which changed momentum drastically. From then on it was all London, all the way, Barrie escaping after two massive glove saves and a shot off the framework late on.

"The guys had confidence in front of him [Niederberger]," added Hawerchuk. "There's good unity between the players and the goaltender, and he's the backbone for us."

“I think we did a great job keeping the shots to the outside,” Niederberger, who was also named first star said . “It was our plan and we did that really well. We tried to give up shots from the outside and the boys did a really good job with that making it easier for me."

Lemieux, son of ex NHL-er Claude ended up with the game winner on the powerplay barely two minutes into the final period. Future Winnipeg Jet Mark Schiefele added the insurance late on via the empty net goal.

“It’s a bit of a wake-up call for us,” said Knights' Seth Griffith said. “I think (losing Game 1 is) going to make us play that much harder over the next couple of games.”

Game two of the OHL's Western Conference final did just that for London. They rallied back with two six goal outings in Plymouth to beat the Whalers in five straight.

Expect the Knights to come out in game two with a lot more shots on net. They went into the Kitchener and Saginaw series knowing that constantly peppering Saginaw's Jake Paterson and Kitchener's John GIbson would eventually lead to mistakes from the netminder.

And it did.

"On the powerplay we passed the puck too much," added Broadhurst. "We were getting too cute. Against Plymouth we shot every puck, going hard to the net. Now we had defenceman shooting the puck but no one at the net [for the rebound], that's got to change."

"We got to block a few more shots too, just like they did at key moments of the game," he added.

The Knights were without winger Josh Anderson and Matt Rupert, both still nursing lower body injuries.

Game two goes Sunday evening at 7:05 from the Bud Gardens.
-----
SUMMARY:
Colts 4, Knights 2
Barrie leads OHL championship series 1-0
Barrie goals: Andreas Athanasiou, Anthony Camara, Brendan Lemieux, Mark Scheifele (EN)
London goals: Ryan Rupert, Alex Broadhurst

Knights Primed for Playoff Run

London Knights Captain Scott Harrington leads his team into the OHL post season

The London Knights are playoff bound again. And this is where they’ve been every season since the 1999-2000 season where they finished out of a playoff spot. And while they’re well on course to beating last season’s tally of 99 points in the regular season the London Knights are some ways off beating their franchise record of 120 points in a regular season.

It's been a season where we’ve seen two very different teams. First up, was a team that won 24 straight games from November through December, almost tying the CHL record. And secondly, a team that looked so vulnerable that anyone could beat them, on any given night.

But that is the beauty of junior hockey. While people look up to these athletes, some of them future NHL players, it’s often hard to forget that most of these players are in fact in their teens. And yet, the pressure of a hockey crazy city like London rests on the shoulders of these young men.

“You have ups and downs during the season,” added Knights assistant General Manager Rob Simpson. “It is tough on the players. We’re just focused now on peaking at the right time heading out of the regular season and onto the playoffs.”

This season’s capturing of the Hamilton Spectator trophy as regular season champions sees the Knights take home the top seed in the Western Conference for the sixth time since 2003. And while last season’s team captured so many hearts across the country, coming to within one goal of the Memorial Cup, this season’s team has much more potential to go one better.

But they’re inconsistent on occasion.

In London’s defence though, the OHL’s Western Conference can be an unforgiving place for the underprepared. The NHL’s top draft picks usually come from this side of the league and the Memorial Cup representative, more often than not, comes from this half of the province as well.

“After you won 24 games in a row, sure losing a few straight will seem like a let-down,” added Simpson. “Now, we’re feeling the playoffs and playing solid. The boys know if they play this certain way and everyone plays the way they’re supposed to, they can win hockey games.”

The Knights crop of 1994 and 1995 born players form the core of this season team, and the scary part for most teams in the league is that all of these players will be back next season, unless they make the NHL. What has impressed me the most with the London Knights this season is the ability for a player to fill in when others might be going through a minor mid-season slump.

Take Bo Horvat for instance. There’s a great chance he’ll be London’s top pick at the 2013 NHL Draft, higher than the more popular Max Domi. Why? Because Horvat is showing what he can do on a regular basis when top players like Domi or Seth Griffith are missing from the line-up. At the time of writing, Horvat has 57 points in 62 games, fourth in the line-up behind Domi, Griffith and Alex Broadhurst.

Then the Seth Griffith injury came along. Up until he broke a bone on his right hand on Feb. 10, Griffith went about four years without missing a game. When you do the math, that goes back to 256 regular season games, split between the Knights and St. Mary’s Lincolns (Jr. B), as well as 40 playoff games and four in the Memorial Cup. With the injury Griffith’s hopes of challenging for the OHL scoring title are pretty much over but his teammates stepped up in his absence. In the weeks following Griffith’s injury, you wouldn’t notice that the leading point getter wasn’t playing because the team was offensively strong.

And if you thought booting the Knights (and indeed the London Lightning) out of the Budweiser Gardens so that the World Figure Skating Championships can be held in the city would change anything; think again. “Many of the guys on our team have the experience of playing and winning the OHL last season,” said Simpson. “Playing on the road will give us some team bonding right before the playoffs, and when we do comeback, I know the city of London will be happy to have us back.”

“They will have missed their London Knights hockey.”

This season’s playoffs will be interesting. A quick glance at the OHL Western Conference standings sees a London-Saginaw matchup. As champions the Knights will have home ice advantage throughout the series. “Home ice advantage is key heading into the playoffs whether it is in the Western Division or in the league as a whole,” said Simpson. “It’s more of an accomplishment where we’ve guaranteed ourselves four out of seven games in every series.”

Last season it was a late addition Austin Watson that made all the difference in the playoffs and in the Memorial Cup. This season, General Manager Mark Hunter made the decision to stay put with the current crop of players and instead signed a bunch of blue chip prospects.

Whether that will mean a different result that last season? Only time will tell.

Image Credit: Metro News London

'Snow' Nice to Meet You

Snow, Snow, Snow till I be...

If you look outside your window right about now, you'll probably see snow. In fact, I really don't think it's all that bad, considering that I grew up with mild (though I thought them cold when I was experiencing them) winters in India. Given that this is just my second winter with snow outside my door, I expect it'll take a few more years and a ton of snow before I publicly moan about my hatred towards large amounts of snow.

In fact, I distinctly recall a tweet I sent out during the Christmas break on the morning of December 27, 2012. With winter boots on my feet and quite possibly all the clothes I took with me to Toronto on me, I began my first adventures of shovelling snow and scraping cars.

'Oh, what it's like to pretend I'm 10 again.'

As the pile of snow beside the driveway grew bigger, big enough to perhaps make a snowman, my mind raced, perhaps to the point of imagining how most of you reading this grew up. Shovelling driveways to make that extra buck before heading on home to warm up and grab some sticks for a game of hockey. How I wish I had that while growing up.

Needless to say, I had to stop myself from going down the block asking people if I could shovel their driveway for a small fee. While I may feel like a 10-year-old inside, I didn't imagine people would believe that a 10-year-old could be six feet tall. Reality sucks at times, I tell you. But frankly, that wasn't the worst thing that happened. Living in a house with my cousins – all girls – who showed next to no interest in hockey made me want to cry. All I'd wanted was to play a game of pond hockey. Is that too much to ask for?

Anyway, while I wait to play my first pond hockey game, I move on. A white ending to 2012 – perhaps that's all I could ask for whilst wrapping up an entire calendar year in Canada. In fact, my dad looks at me with disdain when I refer to 'nine-degree weather' as mild. It's funny when I think about it, though; just over a year back, nine degrees was all I could manage, and now it's next to nothing when outside it's a nice, chilly -28 on the Celsius scale.

Old Man Winter's been a fun one this time, especially since I can now poke fun at some people I know who moved to North America for school last fall. With one year of winter experience under my belt, and being able to understand why some Canadians hate the amount of snow they get, I feel just a little more welcome to Canada.

Originally Written for the Interrobang: http://www.fsu.ca/interrobang_article.php?storyID=9239&sectionID=3&issueID=221
Image Credit: http://i3.mirror.co.uk/incoming/article676029.ece/ALTERNATES/s1023/Snow+around+Billericahttp://i3.mirror.co.uk/incoming/article676029.ece/ALTERNATES/s1023/Snow+around+Billericayy

What A Year for Sports in London

:London Knights sniper Seth Griffith in action at the 2012 Memorial Cup in Shawinigan

With a new year comes new opportunities for London's sports teams to shine and dominate the sporting world in Ontario, Canada and the world. Last year, London's athletes put on some outstanding performances, and their achievements were recognized and praised by Londoners and sports fans across the country.

Let's start with everyone's favourite team, the London Knights. They won the OHL championship for the second time, beating the Niagara IceDogs on home ice in game five, driving the city into a frenzy. Austin Watson was a marvelled acquisition; he showed his worth in the playoffs as the Knights headed to Shawinigan for the Memorial Cup. Sadly, they lost in the finals to the Shawinigan Cataractes 2-1 in overtime.

This season, the Knights have taken the OHL by storm. Although the team started off slow, their loss to Windsor on November 1 would be their last for almost two months. The boys won 24 consecutive games, beating their own franchise record and falling just one win short of tying the Canadian Hockey League record. The Knights are sure to be tough competitors as their exciting season continues and the run for the Memorial Cup begins once again.

The London Nationals also had a great season, claiming the Western Conference championship in the 2012 Greater Ontario Junior Hockey League. While they went on to finish third in the Sutherland Cup, Kelly Thomson's team helped put London sports on the map.

London's new basketball team made a name for themselves across Canada. In their inaugural season, the London Lightning came out on top, as over 5,000 fans witnessed them defeat Halifax in game five to win the league title. London finished with a 33-10 record on the season, including 5-2 in the playoffs. Budweiser Gardens could be home to two defending champions for the 2012/13 season.

The Lightning made numerous changes to their roster in the off season, coming back even stronger than last season. The Lightning won their opener, beating Halifax once again. The team continued to be successful throughout 2012. No team came close as the Lightning opened the season with 11 consecutive wins, breaking the league record.

Soccer might not be the prime choice for London sports fans, but that doesn't mean the sport doesn't do well in the city. FC London was crowned winners of the 2012 Premier Development League season, beating the Carolina Dynamo 2-1 in the championship finals in North Carolina. While the victory might not have sent every sports fan in the city into a frenzy, London's soccer fans were ecstatic that from a league of 73 teams, spread across the U.S.A., Canada and Bermuda, their local team came out on top.

One of London's women's soccer teams also made headlines. North London Galaxy was crowned as the best women's team in the country when they beat Surrey United to lift the 2012 Jubilee Cup. This victory is their first national title after four Ontario titles in six years.

The 2012 Olympic Games gave Londoners a chance to show their talents to the world. London native Damian Warner catapulted to Canadian fame after his mesmerising performance in the decathlon, where he finished fifth. He didn't win a medal, but instead he set six personal bests in 10 events. The 22-year-old also put up the second best point total (8,442) in Canadian history. Heptathlete Jessica Zelinka and swimmer Joe Bartoch had memorable performances in the Olympics as well. Zelinka placed seventh in the heptathlon while Bartoch and his teammates finished eighth at the 4x100-metre medley relay.

London and Londoners can be proud; they live in a city that is home to champions. From individual accolades to team championships and success at the provincial and national levels, and even at the Olympics, 2012 had it all.

Originally Written for the Interrobang: http://www.fsu.ca/interrobang_article.php?storyID=9173&sectionID=4&issueID=219
Image Credit: http://chl.uploads.mrx.ca/memorial/images/en/gallery/2012/05/MMC12_0519_DSC_77192909.JPG