In the last issue of The Art of Being Single, I spoke about ghosting and how it sucks because it leaves you with many unanswered questions about the situation and yourself. It leaves you feeling defeated. But ghosting isn’t the only thing that can make you question yourself or someone’s behaviour towards you while building a relationship. You know what else sucks? Breadcrumbing and haunting.
If nothing else, I hope this column is at least teaching you some new things. According to Urban Dictionary, breadcrumbing is “when the ‘crush’ has no intentions of taking things further, but they like the attention.” So they’ll keep messaging you and being all flirty but things will go nowhere. Haunting, on the other hand, is a little like ghosting but the ghoster is keeping indirect contact, usually by liking your posts on Instagram or viewing your Snapchat stories, even though they have your number but never message you.
You know why these possibly suck even more than a simple ghost? It’s the fact that you’re constantly being reminded. You’re constantly being reminded that you never got any answers. You’re being reminded of the awful feeling of being ghosted in the first place. You’re constantly being bombarded with the idea that you’re flirt-worthy but not relationship-worthy. You’re being reminded of a failed relationship, the good moments (if any) you spent with the other person, the chemistry you thought was so intense a scientist somewhere in Antarctica could feel it amidst the blistering cold.
You begin to think it’s normal, that anything that doesn’t result in ghosting, breadcrumbing or haunting is a miracle. You might even begin to believe that love doesn’t—and can’t—exist, if this is what the dating scene is all about.
You know what sucks about it all? You begin to give up.
But don’t. No matter how hard it is to believe, there has to be something, someone out there for us that won’t leave us hanging. So no matter if you’ve been ghosted, haunted or breadcrumbed for the first, third, 64th time—don’t give up on finding love.
You’re single. Then, you connect with someone. You spend hours pouring yourself out to them. You allow yourself to get attached. Everything is fine and dandy and it seems like it’s finally headed somewhere serious. Then it’s suddenly over. And it’s time to move on—or at least try to.
I understand how difficult it is to give up on someone after investing so much time and energy, and losing sleep over building a relationship. It hurts to see it all go to waste. A connection you thought was mutual collapsed to a ghost of what it almost was. If you’re lucky, the person told you they weren’t interested anymore. But most of us aren’t so lucky: we get ghosted instead.
To the person who ghosted: I get it. The person you were talking to wasn’t living up to your expectations, or they gave you a red flag, or life just got really damn busy and you couldn’t handle something (someone) else. But while people don’t owe you shit in life, there is a minimum expectation. While it’s easy to just ghost someone you’re no longer interested in, it also makes you an entitled jerk. If you’ve ever ghosted someone, have you stopped to think about the consequences of your actions?
Being ghosted by someone you’ve developed feelings for is the worst. There’s a sinking feeling in your chest and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You try to wrap your head around it: Did something happen to them? Are they okay? Eventually though, these logical thoughts start imploding. You start thinking it was your fault. Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say or do? What’s wrong with me?
The problem is that you justdon’t know. You could spend days, weeks or even months wondering if the reason someone ghosted you was your fault. While I can sit here and say it isn’t, the truth is I’ve been in that position of being ghosted and trying to understand why. And now, there’s nothing I can say other than you eventually get used to it and you are able to recover faster when it inevitably happens again. But sadly, nothing will ever soften the blow of being ghosted.
So Valentine’s Day was a few days ago. While some single people don’t care, for others it might be hard to deal with being alone when love and romance are so commercially advertised. If you’re one of those people, you might have questions about your relationship status. How do you deal with rejection? How do you deal with ghosting? How do you deal with never feeling like you’re adequate and like you’re going to be single forever while everyone else’s love life is flourishing?
The answer? You just do.
I know it’s frustrating. I know it’s sad. And I know, after a while, it’s exhausting. But I also know that it isn’t the end of the world; you’re going to go on other dates, and you will eventually find your person.
Now, while you wait to find your person, you’re going to (more likely than not) go through a few rough patches. You might be on every dating app possible with no luck of finding someone cute and interesting, or shooting your shot just to get rejected. Or, you might go on your fifth terrible date this month, or you might be talking to someone you’re starting to like, but are then ghosted. You might go through all of this. I feel you, but know that you aren’t alone in this struggle of trying to not be single.
Let’s face it: no matter how many times we think Tinder or Bumble or Hinge (or the countless other dating apps) might work out—after deleting and re-downloading them three times this month—they most likely won’t. Out of so many people that use any or all of these apps, how many of them actually find what they’re looking for?
As for shooting your shot, I wrote all about it last time, so check it out if you’re still searching for a sign to do it. In terms of having terrible dates, definitely don’t see someone again if you don’t want to. No amount of frustration and loneliness should infringe on this decision; it’s always better to be alone than in bad company.
Lastly, when it comes to ghosting, I have one thing to say. I hate it. It really freaking sucks. And I’m not talking about ghosting when the conversation is going nowhere, or if you clearly have nothing in common; I feel like we’ve all done this at some point. I’m talking about ghosting when you start thinking, “yeah, maybe this can go somewhere.” Then, BOOM. Ghosted. If you do this, just know I don’t like you. And if you’ve had this done to you, just know, like in every other instance, you’ll be okay. You just move on, try again, and eventually you’ll find your person. Lather, rinse, repeat––but for your heart.
Sports Editor Nicholas Di Giovanni gives his take on his latest in sports with his weekly Colour Commentary
Anthony Davis is the next player in line for a big pay day
I was listening to TSN 690 a few weeks ago on the drive to school, only half paying attention to stats and opinions about sports I don’t always understand. Then, I hear “US$240 million” and “five years” in the same sentence.
Anthony Davis, who’s played basketball with the New Orleans Pelicans since 2012, was offered a supermax deal worth US$240 million over five years and could be a free agent next summer. According to ESPN, he turned it down because he wants to be traded.
Now, I don’t really care about basketball. But what I do care about is how much money athletes are paid. If you think Davis’s contract sounds ludacris, it’s not even that extreme. He’s only the 24th best-paidNBA player and the 34th highest-paid athlete in 2018, according to Forbes. And for what? To run a court and shoot a ball in a basket?
But it isn’t just Davis or the NBA. The whole sports world makes no sense. An NBA player’s average annual salary is US$7.77 million; a MLB player’s is US$4.51 million; an NHL player can see US$2.78 million. But for what? To shoot, hit, kick, or throw a ball?
Why do these people need to be paid so much? Sure, they’ve probably spent every day since they were six practising and playing, working hard to get better, all with the dream of going pro. Then one day they achieve their dream, and are now making millions a year.
Professional athletes aren’t the only ones working hard to earn a living and make the best of their lives. It’s not like they’re saving lives or necessarily helping people, which would warrant, at least in my eyes, a much bigger paycheck than someone playing a sport.
It’s the entertainment aspect of the sports industry that’s the problem. The contracts to televise these events are so extravagant and unnecessary. Fans keep watching, which contributes to the problem. The more people watch, the higher the prices for tickets or merchandise is, and the cycle of too much money being invested into a sport is continued.
Just an example: Floyd Mayweather was the world’s highest paid athlete in 2018, according to Forbes, with US$285 million. Most of this was for his one fight against Conor McGregor; the match generated 4.3 million pay-per-view buys. For what? To avoid getting beaten by a UFC fighter with an attitude?
All of this to say that, while professional athletes do put all their blood, sweat and tears into their sport, and while they have made and continue to make sacrifices, at the end of the day, no one is worth that much money.
Shooting a shot, in the context of any type of relationship, according to Urban Dictionary, is “to let go of your pride and pursue someone you are interested in.” Shooting your shot can happen in many different ways: sliding into someone’s DMs, directly tweeting them, commenting on their selfie or, you know, in the real world, going up to them and saying, “Hi.”
I know it’s easier said than done. You’re probably going to overthink the possible outcomes of shooting your shot and weigh the pros and cons, more than actually going through with it. I know it’s hard. You’re probably going to freak out about actually doing it.
Well, I’m here to be Nike. I’m here to be Shia Labeouf in that video. I’m here to tell you to stop all that and just do it. It’s not that scary, I promise. Ever since I can remember, probably way back in elementary school, I would always tell the boy I liked that I liked him. Ever since I can remember, I’m almost sure I got shut down every time.
While it might be scary to put your feelings out into the open and admit it to the person—and to yourself—it’s really not that big of a deal. Whether it’s that cute mutual follower on Instagram, the person in your class that keeps looking over at you, the friend that you might be falling for—just do it.
While it’s best to not keep your hopes up, it’s good to share and communicate your feelings. Not only is it healthier than keeping everything bottled up, or being left with that feeling of “what if,” but it might also work out.
It’s also worth mentioning that I’m not telling you to keep shooting your shot once someone gives you a clear indication that they’re not interested. Make sure you’re not making someone feel unsafe or uncomfortable by how and when you shoot your shot.
While I’ve not yet successfully shot my shot, every single time I try, I’m glad I did because I’m left feeling accomplished and strong having overcome my fear of going through with it. While I’ve not yet successfully shot my shot, it won’t stop me from continuing to try and do so when I’m into someone—it shouldn’t stop you either.
Welcome to the first ever “The Art of Being Single!” This bi-weekly column is dedicated to being single and ready to mingle, despite life having other plans for you, and how much this can (mostly) suck. I hope this assures you that you’re not alone in struggling to deal with being single, and I hope to be that little voice of encouragement at the back of your head, saying everything will work out in the end. But until then, make an art out of being single.
The year 2018 was a relatively rough year in terms of love and relationships. I was getting over a breakup I was salty about. I was ghosted a lot (recurring theme in my life; it’s really annoying). I shot my shot (multiple times) and failed. A lot of my friends shot their shot and succeeded. I’m still single.
I was, and still am, the friend that doesn’t get approached at school or at a bar or club very often. I might have some casual conversation, but I’m rarely hit on; I am usually spoken to as “one of the guys” or am used by some guy to get to my friend, who he thinks is “hot.” And with every right––my friends are magnificent people, inside and out.
At first, this––never being “the one”––would really bother me. Why am I single? What do they have that I don’t? Will I end up alone forever? What is wrong with me? Although it sometimes may feel like I’m alone in having these thoughts, I know I’m not. There are people who feel the same way, thinking, When will my time come?
I’ve come to realize that there’s nothing wrong with me, or with you, or with anyone who’s single and never had a long-term relationship. I’ve learnt that I don’t lack anything; neither do you. The only thing “wrong” with us is that we haven’t found someone we’re compatible with on every level.
Sure, it does suck sometimes. It sucks when some of your friends are in long-term relationships, others are just getting in one and the rest have no problem being single. It sucks when it seems like everyone around you has someone––everyone but you.
It’s taken a long time to realize and come to peace with, but there’s nothing wrong with being single; there’s nothing wrong with you. In some ways, being single at this stage in our lives might be a blessing: as university students, we already have a lot on our plates. Do we really need to be starting a relationship? While you’re single, learn about yourself; learn how to be with yourself and how to love yourself. If you already know how, then just sit tight and be patient; everything works out in the end.
The Centaur Theatre is ringing in the New Year with the Wildside Festival, in its 22nd year. Along with showcasing many shows by different production companies, the festival is in partnership with the Offside Festival. This partnership dedicates Thursday and Friday nights to sounds from Montreal’s musical landscape being performed in the Centaur Gallery after the last show of the evening, with this Saturday dedicated to Patti Smith. Although the Festival is already underway, take a look at what shows are left for the remainder of the week!
Body So Fluorescent
A one-woman show featuring Amanda Cordner asks questions about blackness, otherness and oppression. Fluorescent, written in two parts, is about Gary, a gay, white male, and Desiree, a straight, black woman, who are trying to figure out how they ended up in an explosive fight the night before. In the process, Desiree goes through the motions of trying to imagine what her life would be like as Gary and stunning revelations are made.
When: Jan. 16 and 19 at 9 p.m., and Jan. 18 at 7 p.m.
Hyena Subpoena
Another one-woman show, Hyena is performed by Montreal’s own Cat Kidd. The storyline is inspired by Kidd’s tour in South Africa in 2007. Mona Morse, Kidd’s character and the narrator of the poems based on the trip, shows the connection between humans and animals. She shows how both species can be quite similar by bending the boundaries between human and animal form on stage.
When: Jan. 15 and 17 at 7 p.m. and Jan. 20 at 3 p.m.
Crime After Crime (After Crime)
This is the story of three different crime periods in Crime City: a film noir of the 50s, a heist of the 70s, and a buddy cop story of the 90s. The comedy thriller, full of everything you hope to see in a cop production—murder, mystery, car chases and more—won the Just For Laughs Best Comedy Award at the 2018 Montreal Fringe Festival.
When: Jan. 15 at 9 p.m. and Jan. 16 at 7 p.m.
Sapientia
The story of Sapientia comes from Hroswitha of Gandersheim, a poetess of 10th century Germany. It’s about the Christian martyrdom of a woman and her three daughters as they face persecution. Instead of people, the Scapegoat Carnivale Production company uses everyday objects such as mirrors, teacups and pomegranates to let the story unfold.
When: Jan. 17 and 18 at 9 p.m., and Jan. 19 at 3 p.m.
The Gentle Art of Punishment
This multidisciplinary performance—filled with dance, music and text—is a piece about three young women unravelling their childhoods in a dream-like narrative. It is a piece that was created by the Daughter Product, a group of young female Montreal artists. The Gentle Art of Punishment explores the world we live in today, what it means to be a woman in today’s world and what we do when dealing with a crisis.
One student’s realization that the balancing act is harder than she thought
Back in April, I wrote a piece in The Concordian about balancing life and school. I emphasized the importance of remembering that you can’t do better than your absolute best. What I was trying to convey could be summed up as the following: 1) make time for your friends and family; 2) don’t forget about hobbies and fitness; 3) don’t forget to work on yourself—take a break when you’re tired, sleep when you need to, take a bath or whatever else. An important final point I made was this: “It’s so utterly important to take a break and give your mind time to recuperate from the constant stress and thinking it does.”
Maybe I was naive or maybe it was because I was in my first year, when everything is arguably much easier than in second year. What I’ve come to realize is this: I’ve since become a hypocrite. I no longer stand by the idea that you can balance your school, work, and social life easily.
This semester, I somehow managed to balance five courses and three jobs, one of which was in retail, which I quit because I got a job as a journalist. Despite this, I’m still extremely worn out; I don’t have an off-button. My work day starts when I wake up, the moment I open my laptop, and it doesn’t end until I go to sleep. One of my jobs is as a research journalist, where I thoroughly research a subject about entertainment and write 3,000 words on it. My other job is a copy editor for this paper, as one of four people who makes sure there are no mistakes and everything follows our writing style. Four of my five classes require extensive writing. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate, I freelance. I offer to edit my friends’s assignments, and I contribute as a writer to this paper—as I’m doing now, which I really shouldn’t be doing because I have an essay due in a few days that I haven’t started. Yet, here I am.
Some of you may think I’m crazy for taking on all these projects, but I feel like it’s part of millennial journalism culture. Last year, first year journalism students attended conferences where professionals spoke about their careers and the paths leading to where they are now. It seemed like everyone was balancing multiple projects at the same time, be it school and a job, or school and an internship, or all three. I quickly understood that, to succeed in this industry, you have to hop on the train and go full speed ahead.
At the same time, there’s also a feeling of FOMO (fear of missing out). I’ve been putting myself out there and trying to make connections in order to advance my career, but at what cost? I may be over working and overwhelming myself, with my sanity and personal life taking a considerable hit, but I don’t want to look back on my time and see missed opportunities.
By thinking so much about my future—which, in reality, isn’t so far away—I’ve neglected my own advice. I haven’t had much time for friends or family; I haven’t been active in months; and I’ve been overworking myself to hell. My mom is worried I’m on the edge of a burnout or mental breakdown, but I keep assuring her I’m not—I know it’ll be worth it in the end. While I may be suffering temporarily and am beyond exhausted all the time, I’ve made new friends, written content I’m proud of, managed to stay on top of my classes, and, all in all, I’m living my best life. But I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t acknowledge the sacrifice I now realize it takes to make all this happen.
Michael Laplaine-Pereira led the league in tries this season with five, despite playing only five games. Photo by Hannah Ewen
Third-year Stingers enjoys the culture of the sport he loves
“My favourite thing would be stepping on the field right before the kickoff,” said Michael Laplaine-Pereira, a hooker on the Stingers men’s rugby team. “To feel physically ready and mentally ready, to see that first ball leave the kicker and run, that’s the best feeling.”
On Sept. 25, the Stingers honoured Laplaine-Pereira with male Athlete of the Week. He said it was rewarding, not only as a personal achievement, but because it gave rugby the recognition it often misses out on because of the more popular sports. He also praised the work his teammates do to allow him to succeed on the field.
“At the end of the day, this is a team sport and we’re dependent on the others standing next to us,” Laplaine-Pereira said. “You really get a sense of how much you can accomplish because of [the team]. It feels like every highlight of my season has been [curated] by the other players. Everything I do, it’s not doable without them.”
After an impressive season of five tries in five games—the most in the league—and two game MVP honours, it’s a shame Laplaine-Pereira wasn’t able to show off his skills in the playoffs. On Oct. 19, in the fifth regular-season game against cross-town rivals McGill Redmen, Laplaine-Pereira received a red card for kicking a Redmen player in the head. He was suspended for four games, missing the remainder of the season as the Stingers went undefeated en route to a championship.
“It’s probably one of the top three most emotionally challenging moments of my life,” said Laplaine-Pereira about not being able to play in the playoffs. “After it happened, I was crying because it was so hard [to deal with]. It was a mistake. I knew it was my fault; I didn’t hide from it.”
Laplaine-Pereira (in grey hoodie) did not get to play in the final, which the Stingers won on Nov. 10. Photo by Hannah Ewen.
Before the rest of the team went back onto the field after halftime of the McGill game, Laplaine-Pereira said: “We all make mistakes on the field; we see each other make mistakes. What rugby’s about, the brotherhood, it’s to not blame [anyone], but it’s to pick them up and adapt for the best [interest] of the team. What I did, it’s unacceptable, not for the rules, but for the culture.”
Head coach Craig Beemer spoke to Laplaine-Pereira during halftime and told him how, after playing hard and rough, part of the culture is that you can go grab a drink with the opponent.
“The culture behind rugby, the family, it’s not the same as in soccer,” said the 23-year-old. He also noted that rugby is less competitive than soccer, and he loves the culture behind the sport, which includes the “unspoken guidelines, the unwritten rules” Laplaine-Pereira holds close.
Laplaine-Pereira was enrolled in sports starting at a young age and has always been active. Before rugby, he played soccer for almost a decade. He said he remembers his parents being there for him and encouraging him when he was five years old, and that support hasn’t faded.
Laplaine-Pereira’s parents are originally from Portuguese colonies in Africa—his dad from Angola and his mom from Zaire, now called the Democratic Republic of the Congo. They moved to Canada for a better life, where Laplaine-Pereira and his brother could get a chance to continue their education.
At 14, Laplaine-Pereira injured his knee playing soccer, which put him out of play for six months. He had also just changed high schools for the third time and was going through some personal issues. Ultimately, Laplaine-Pereira took a break from playing sports for four years. He wasn’t part of a team until Cégep, when he joined the Vanier Cheetahs soccer team.
During his time at Vanier College, where he studied health science from 2012 to 2016, his soccer coach suggested he play rugby. In his final year, Laplaine-Pereira played for both teams but saw far greater success as a rugby player. He made the all-star team, was almost nominated for MVP and was deemed the most consistent player.
When he started at Concordia in the winter of 2016, Laplaine-Pereira was enrolled in biochemistry but hated it. He decided to switch into a more practical field, and ended up in environmental science. After realizing he hated that too, Laplaine-Pereira changed to software engineering last year. Despite constantly changing programs, he admitted that Concordia, especially the sports complex, is like a second home, and his teammates are like his family.
The third-year player is also a reservist and has worked as an infantry officer for the Canadian Armed Forces for the past three years. This is where he gets “down and dirty in the woods.” His job as an officer includes planning and organizing events, such as exercises for his team. His current education path would allow him to be a cyber operator for the army or could lead to a career in AI. He said he might even mix his skills as a project manager with his passion for gaming, in the hopes of working for Blizzard Entertainment, the video game developer behind World of Warcraft.
One student’s experience with being told “no,” and how that led to an epiphany
A few weeks ago, I was at my aunt’s house with my parents, my cousins, my great-aunts and uncles for Saturday supper. It’s a tradition that after our family’s Sunday supper together, the men go to a local Italian bar to have coffee. Every time, not one of the women is asked to go, simply because it’s not customary.
Recently, I’ve been super busy and, although I had brought my laptop to supper to work on assignments, I decided I wanted to take a break and get a coffee. I was looking forward to a freshly brewed espresso and some down time with my cousins away from my laptop. That is, until I was met with a sentence I’ve never been told in my life: “No, because women aren’t allowed to come.”
I immediately got defensive. I told my great-uncle I just really wanted to get a coffee; it’s not like I was intruding on anything. To no one’s surprise, I guess, arguing with an old Italian man and getting around being told “no” was futile. I got upset and emotional, struggling to hold back tears.
You may think I was being dramatic and that my reaction, while not unwarranted, was not necessary. But this experience made me realize a plethora of things I hadn’t really put too much thought into before.
My entire life, my parents—my mother, in particular—have raised me to be able to do anything and everything. As a small child, I knew how to use a hammer and a screwdriver; I could paint a wall, install pavé-uni (yes, even that), do basic plumbing, change a lightbulb, and maintain the pool. In our house, being a girl was never a factor for discrimination. I knew how to do all of these chores because they were the tasks that needed to get done.
My mom passed that mentality on from her childhood when she and her three sisters were taught how to do everything and pull their weight too. That was passed down from my grandparents. My nonna knew how to paint and fix things around the house, and my nonno would cook, do groceries and even the laundry, which was super uncommon at that time. Likewise, my 70-year-old aunt is and has always been the one who does the gardening, mows the lawn, all while being the one who cooks and cleans up after 15 people at family gatherings.
She and my great-uncle are of the same baby-boomer generation. Since the incident, I struggled to understand how two people of about the same age, especially from that generation, could have such different values. Then I realized that even within my own generation, which is supposedly “woke” and informed about social constructs, there is disparity. I have come to the conclusion that it all comes down to what you were and continue to be exposed to.
Luckily for me, I come from a few generations of feminists (I use the term lightly here, although it’s applicable nonetheless) even if they didn’t know it. My nonno raised four strong daughters; my mom went on to teach me the same values and, along with my dad, instilled in me that I don’t need a man and I should never take “no” for an answer.
Simon Malaborsa said he played for the Stingers because he wanted to have the student-athlete experience. Photo by Hannah Ewen.
Forward is training hard to recover from an injury
“I’ve been playing soccer since I was four years old. It’s in my blood.”
Simon Malaborsa reminisced about his best memories of soccer, when he used to play with his siblings in their family’s backyard in Ahuntsic-Cartierville. It was Malaborsa’s father who sparked his interest in the sport, and signed him up for it. The 22-year-old has been playing ever since.
Although he’s been a striker for the Concordia Stingers men’s soccer team for the last two seasons, he didn’t always play that position. He used to play defence and winger, sometimes even goalie, but was always most comfortable as a striker. “I used to play with people who were older than me, and that’s how I got competitive,” Malaborsa said.
“There was no way that I wasn’t going to play for the team,” Malaborsa said about being a Stinger. “I played for the college team, I played for club [teams]. Part of the experience for me is being a student-athlete.”
Malaborsa noted that, while school is important, he wouldn’t be enjoying his time at Concordia as much if he wasn’t also an athlete. “It’s part of the lifestyle,” he said.
Malaborsa chases down an opposing player in a game on Sept. 15. Photo by Hannah Ewen.
In 2013, after graduating from LaurenHill Academy, Malaborsa played with the Dawson College Blues. In his first year there, the team went to nationals. It was a successful end to a season that had a rocky start, he recalled. In 2015, Malaborsa decided he wanted a change in atmosphere and to focus more on his grades. He transferred to Vanier and played for the Cheetahs from 2015 to 2017. At the club level, he has played with Ahuntsic, Longueuil, Outremont and Salaberry.
Originally, Malaborsa studied marketing as a full-time student at Concordia, but he didn’t like math so he switched to urban studies and urban planning. Although he is interested in the program, he doesn’t want a job in that field.
“I want [my career] to revolve around soccer. I want to do some type of coaching,” Malaborsa said. “I kind of don’t want to use my degree. I’ll have it, but I don’t want to use it. I want to go out and use my soccer. I obviously still want to play pro; I’m still pushing.”
Malaborsa works one day a week as the manager at Casey’s restaurant in Marché Central, but the rest of his time is spent at school and playing soccer.
Malaborsa usually goes to school from 9 a.m. to around 3 p.m. everyday. During this time, he trains and goes to physiotherapy for a hamstring injury he suffered a week before beginning this season. He has been injured all season but is still playing although not at his full potential, but he hopes to reach the level he wants to be at soon.
Having only played three out of nine games with the Stingers this season, Malaborsa said it has been difficult not playing the sport he loves so much. “It’s hard on the mental [side] too. [I] just have to stay positive and trust the process,” he said. “It’s easy to be distracted or depressed because you’re injured, but it’s part of the sport. You just have to work hard to get out of it.”
However, Malaborsa has a newfound appreciation for the game now that he’s spent so much time on the sidelines. “Every minute I get, I try to play the best I can.”
As a dedicated student-athlete, Malaborsa is very busy but said that prioritizing and managing his time allows him to balance everything. “Yes, you can have fun,” he said. “[But] you can have fun doing serious things—I’m having fun doing super serious things.”
Malaborsa said he had his time to go out when he was younger, and he still does go out occasionally, but that’s not why he looks forward to the weekend. “I’m looking forward to games,” he said.
Ideally, within the next three years, Malaborsa hopes to have both a degree and a professional soccer career—perhaps in theCanadian Premier League, which is expected to start in April 2019.
“I try to do whatever needs to be done,” Malaborsa said in regards to reaching his goals. “I’m sure that if you do everything that you need to be doing, and you’re positive and you’re persistent and consistent, you’re going to be getting what you want. Hard work pays off. I believe in that.”
“It always feels like I’m playing in my backyard; it’s just so familiar to me,” Malaborsa said. “No matter what stage of play, it should always be the same. You shouldn’t be nervous, you should be excited; it’s what you’ve worked for. It’s what I’ve been working for.”
When the Centaur Theatre premiered its first show on Oct. 28, 1969, the auditorium still smelled of paint and a team of plumbers had just fixed the sprinkler system.
The opening-night production of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, originally a novel by Muriel Spark and adapted for the stage by Jay Presson Allen, was reviewed by The McGill Daily’s Randy Roddick a few days later. In this rather lackluster review, Roddick acknowledged the cast’s successful performance but also mentioned the struggles the Centaur dealt with: the colour of the theatre was “shitty” (quite literally—it was brown), and the building’s safety was only given the green light by the fire department 20 minutes before curtain call.
Roddick concluded his article with: “In the future, who knows, maybe this company will become more relevant and more exciting.” If only he could have known that the Centaur would be celebrating its golden anniversary, still hosting six to 10 shows per season and acclaiming success both locally and internationally.
This year, the Centaur opened its 50th anniversary season with Choir Boy, directed by Mike Payette and written by Tarell Alvin McCraney, who won the 2017 Oscar for his screen adaptation of Moonlight. This season’s inaugural play premiered in 2012 at the Royal Court in London and is set to debut on Broadway in December 2018.
Choir Boy is about a talented singer named Pharus (played by Steven Charles) who is trying to prove to the Drew Prep School for Boys that he is the rightful leader of their choir. The coming-of-age story showcases a cast of young black men focused on their dreams while dealing with everything life throws at them.
On Oct. 12, the opening night of the season, the Centaur Theatre was full of anticipation for the show which was nothing short of fantastic. The play began with Kanye West’s “Power” and the five choir boys on an elevated part of the stage.
It wasn’t long before pieces of banter and witty jokes got the audience laughing. The back-and-forth dialogue showed the authenticity of the characters and added to the excited atmosphere of the theatre hall. The way the actors interacted with the audience allowed the crowd to feel connected and as if they were a part of the story, possibly finding a small part of themselves in what was shown on stage. The a capella numbers were simple, yet delivered with such passion and fervor; each actor was given the opportunity to show their vocal talents.
During an interview, each of the actors said they were so excited and proud to be a part of something that, on some level, represents what they have been through in their lifetime.
Vlad Alexis, who plays Junior, said they’re “doing it for the culture” and that “this is our Black Panther moment; Wakanda really is forever.”
Patrick Abellard, who plays Bobby, said he tried to explain to his friends what the show is about, but it’s really something you have to experience first-hand. Choir Boy is raw, emotional and truthful; it’s a story of acceptance, friendship and loyalty through trials and tribulations. It is a whole-heartedly inspiring story of young black excellence.
***
Choir Boy runs until Oct. 28. To see what else the Centaur is showing this season, check out their website: www.centaurtheatre.com.
