The Scene: therapy room at the Brossard training complex, where team therapists are gathered to discuss the day's assignments
Graham Rynbend: Okay guys, another long day today. We've got three knees that will need some pool time, there's Pouliot's shoulder and there's the day-to-day clinic. Then...yes, Nick?
Nick Addey-Jibb: We're bored.
Rynbend: You're bored? What are you talking about?
Addey-Jibb: Well, it's the same thing every day. Massage, massage, massage. Laser. Pool. Bike, and more massage. We haven't had a break since October. I mean, at least it's not a constant parade of groins like last year...
Rynbend shudders at the memory
Addey-Jibb: ...but we're starting to get carpal tunnel from all the massaging. We need some fun, man.
Rynbend: I know, but we've got a job to do.
Lorne Goldenberg: Yeah, we know. But we figure we can do the work AND have a laugh too. Jibby and I came up with an idea. We each pick a gimp and make them compete against each other, but we don't tell them. We just get to put them through a bunch of tests and see who wins.
Rynbend: (after a moment of silence) Guys, that's brilliant! I'm in, but we have to make sure they actually get some therapy at the same time.
Addey-Jibb: No problem!
Rynbend: Okay then. Dibbs on Cammalleri!
Addey-Jibb: Hey! I was gonna take him!
Goldenberg: I've got Kostitsyn!
Addey-Jibb: Ah...not fair. He's almost a hundred percent! (sigh) Alright. I'll take Bergeron. But, let's put a little coin on the line, eh?
Rynbend: Sure. Fifty bucks apiece, and winner buys the beer.
Goldenberg: Okay, guys, they're coming. Keep this to yourselves, okay? No hints, you cheaters.
Cammalleri, Bergeron and Andrei Kostitsyn enter
Cammalleri: Hey guys! What's on for us this morning?
Rynbend: (glances furtively at the other two) Ah, it's a little something different today, Cammy. We're going to start off with some speed therapy. This...ah...makes sure your synapses don't...um...atrophy...during your recovery.
Cammalleri: Sounds good. What do I have to do?
Addey-Jibb: Take your crutches, and stand over here behind this line of tape. When I say "Go," you get across to the other tape mark on the floor over there, then, on the way back, you have to go around the training tables, like pylons. We'll see how quickly you can do it.
Cammelleri: Um, you're sure this is therapy? Sounds like an obstacle course to me.
Rynbend: Heh heh...no. Like we said, it's speed therapy. Jibby, you got the stopwatch? Okay, Cammy, GO!
Cammalleri bolts from the start line and hustles across the room on crutches while the therapists cheer
Rynbend: Ha! Forty-eight seconds. Let's see your gimps match that!
Andrei Kostitsyn: Vat ees geemp?
Goldenberg: It means "big, strong man." Now, Andrei, your turn. Grab your crutches.
Kostitsyn: But, I em valking vit no crutch now.
Goldenberg: Well, ah...you need to rest the knee today, so get out the crutches.
Kostitsyn gets a great start, but drops a crutch
Goldenberg: Unreal! Forty-six. In your face, GR!
Rynbend: No way! He hopped part of the way. Jibby?
Addey-Jibb: I'll give it to him. Crutches are faster than hopping anyway. Okay, Bergie...your turn.
Bergeron: So, is this a race or something? Because I don't think my knee...
Addey-Jibb: Come on, Bergie. Your knee's fine. Step up, let's go.
Bergeron gingerly makes his way to the line, looking doubtful
Addey-Jibb: Okay...GO! Jeez, Bergie...are you okay? Guys, help me get him up!
Rynbend: Crap. Martin wanted an injury report this morning. Jibby, better tell him Bergie's gonna be six to eight weeks. Guys, I'm gonna need a substitution. I'll take Benny.
Scene moves to therapy pool
Rynbend: Alright you guys, into the pool. We're going to do some work on your lung capacity now. When I say "under," you take a breath, duck under the water and stay there as long as you can.
Benoit Pouliot: But, I can't swim. I don't like the water.
Addey-Jibb: Don't worry about it Benny. It's only up to your shoulders.
Cammalleri: I don't know guys. I can't fight the urge to talk, even underwater. This could be dangerous.
Kostitsyn: I hev to pee.
Goldenberg: (sighs) Go pee Andrei.
Rynbend Everybody ready? Okay...UNDER!
Goldenberg: Who do you guys think...Andrei! What are you doing? you can't hold your breath longer than that?
Kostitsyn: (shrugs) I hev to pee everytime in pool. Sorry.
Addey-Jibb: Ha ha...and then there were two.
Rynbend: Man, these guys are good. It's over minute already. Ah, damn my guy's done. Hey, Cammy, not bad.
Addey-Jibb: I'm getting worried. It's been two minutes. How's Benny staying under so long?
Rynbend: Oh man, I don't think he's doing it on purpose. Get him out!
After a frantic two minutes of CPR, Pouliot finally sputters and coughs
Rynbend: Okay, I think this is the end of the contest. Martin's gonna kill us.
Addey-Jibb: I guess drowning'd be "upper body," right? Ha ha. (glances at the other two's stone faces) Um...sorry.
Rynbend: There's no way he's going to be ready to play by the weekend. He drank half the pool and he was out for two minutes. Tell Martin he's day-to-day, but not to expect him back until after the Olympics.
Jacques Martin enters the room
Martin: Okay guys, give me some good news. We need to go into the break on a high note here.
Rynbend: Ah, Jacques, we're sorry to tell you this, but Bergeron is gonna be out another 6-8 weeks and Pouliot won't be back until after the Games, at least. Cammy and Kostitsyn are still doing okay, though.
Martin: (sighs) Well boys, thanks for your hard work. Nothing we can do about injuries, eh? (walks out, shaking head)
Addey-Jibb: So, anyway, guys, I'm pretty sure I win. Pay up.
ducks as rolls of bandage and dirty underwear fly at his head