Look good, feel good, play good?
That’s a saying most people are aware of and I think one that holds pretty true.
For a young 17 year-old superstitious boy though, maybe not so much?
Before our first full season in the BCHL, my mom wanted to get us brand new suits and outfits for our rookie years.
On our way to camp late August, the three of us head to Moore’s - Clothing for Men.
Men?
Who were we kidding?
Mom said we could go all out and get fully outfitted, a new suit, shirt, tie, belt, and shoes.
Knowing myself, I should have gotten something simple but the guy at the front was working it and he was going to put everything possible into getting a couple sales from us small town crumbs.
We’re walking around and we grab like seven different combos of all different colors; plaids, tans, even a whitish jacket with pink pinstripes.
The salesman brings us to a musty old change room and then throws the full ‘ROYGBIV’ of shirts and ties over the door for us to try on.
My mom is loving it and who doesn’t love getting new things, we’re loving it too. All that was missing was a nice flute of champagne and some caviar.
Kel tries on a navy blue suit and right away he’s sold. ‘I don’t need to try on any others… I’ll take the blue shirt and blue tie too, black shoes and black belt please and thanks!’
For me though, it’s never that easy. I try on my seven, then Kellen’s other six. I am making this guy work for his dough.
The last one is the honey hole pick. Olive green, cream colored shirt, and a beige tie.
I thought I legitimately looked like Brad Pitt off of Ocean’s 11 or something.
I added brown shoes with a brown belt. Hell, I might have even thrown a pocket square on the tab too.
We thank everyone for their time, my mom gives the guy his first ever ‘tip’ for selling a suit and then we’re off to our billets place in Vernon.
Few days later, it’s go time.
The teams’ first exhibition game of the year in Salmon Arm.
We’re juiced up to show off our new style and pick up where we left off last season after the joining the Vipers 2006 playoff run.
I’m sure I thought it was a good idea to wear like white sunglasses with my new outfit and we strut onto the bus to the boys hooting and hollering. 110% making fun of us now that I think about it.
Us two bozos are the last guys off of the bus and the strutting continues into the locker room.
I think we were more concerned about our appearance than our game because we played like crud.
Minus three each and I was directly at fault for two of the three goals we got scored on.
I couldn’t even look at my stupid suit after my shower. Thought about throwing it in the trash.
How could my suit do this to me, it’s supposed to bring me goals, wins, and good luck?
I get home and take it all off. Hang it up nicely, and never even think about wearing any part of the outfit ever again.
Every game after I Instead wear my suit from the year before with the ripped pant pocket and the shirt and tie that had blood on it from losing my teeth from a game in Trail.
I’m pretty positive that summer my mom gave away the nice green one after I told her the suit was impossible to wear ever again.
So the lesson?
It’s probably not the suit's fault, it’s more than likely entirely the fault of the moron inside of it.
