Hello, robek.world. Quite a nice site you’ve got here. I, for once in my life, am not going to skip the formalities. Formalities – some say they’re antiquated; too slow and stuffy for the fast-paced smart-tech lifestyle. Really, I don’t know a damn thing about tech or any lifestyles involving it. I digress. Let’s engage in some formalities together, shall we? It might be weird or out-of-touch, but I’m sure we can get through this introduction together. Are you ready? I am. Let’s do this.

My name is not important. What is important is the name of my little weekly (with the occasional holiday special!) column, and that name is Coaches Corner. “What exactly is Coaches Corner?” is a question you might be asking yourself right now. Besides being an integral part of Hockey Night in Canada for decades, I mean. Well, Coaches Corner is going to publish every Friday. What kind of stuff is going to be in the Coaches Corner? All kinds of stuff. Cool and new stuff. Really exciting stuff. The best stuff. Some weeks there will be essays. Some weeks there will be a little bit of fun, light-hearted story time! Who doesn’t love a good story? Really, the only rule of Coaches Corner is that many things will be published in many genres, but at least I’ll update consistently.

Still confused about what Coaches Corner is? I don’t blame you. Let me try to put it in simpler terms.


A man sits alone – on stage – in an auditorium. Well, calling the dilapidated, poorly insulated and drafty room the man was sitting alone in an auditorium is quite generous, almost like calling a two day old White Castle slider a meal. I suppose a more apt description would be a cafeteria, like the kind they have at some public high schools, with a raised up area acting as a stage, and the lower area filled with places for students to cram disgusting food-like gruel into their mouths during their brief reprieve in studies. However, instead of the normal cheap tables, this venue was filled to the brim with cheap plastic chairs, the kind where the frame is made of one piece of plastic with two flat pieces of plastic molded on for people to sit. The kind of chair that you can stack easily should the need for chair-stacking arise. The kind of chair that breaks if you try to do the classic cool-kid “lean back in the chair” thing. You know exactly what kind of chair I’m talking about.

The chairs in this auditorium weren’t just scattered around, though. They were arranged in rows and columns, as if inviting an audience to come sit in them. In most situations involving one man sitting alone on stage in an auditorium, one would expect that some sort of performance were to be taking place, and if there was indeed a performance taking place, one would also expect a crowd to be there, filling out each row and column of terrible plastic chairs, eagerly awaiting the possibility that whatever artistic thing they were about to witness would change their life. Art can have a tremendous effect on people. That’s why people consume art. Because it effects them. Because its art. That’s what art does.

The man who sits alone on stage in this auditorium – nay, high school cafeteria – is an artist. More specifically, a storyteller. He’s here today to tell a story to his audience. You, the reader, might recall that he has no audience. He doesn’t care. The man has a story to tell through an artistic medium and he is going to tell it. Even though those countless rows of budget bin public school chairs aren’t filled – and probably won’t be, ever – the man will perform for anyone who may be watching him. Art can change people’s lives. Art can effect people. Art can be a good thing. Art can important. This art will be none of those things. Enjoy.

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