In the Beginning, there was The Gordon Sinclair Jrs.

Welcome, our legions of fans, to the official, value-added, all-natural blog of our mens' indoor soccer team, free of harmful additives!
This could actually be a funeral notice. We don't know yet whether our plucky squad will find welcome in any league. Our manager, Ryan "Charlie Brown" Boldt, was recently dismayed to discover that, owing to money and the ethnic vote, our team was unable to be accommodated in the Highlander league, which plays out of the eponymous awkward piece of architecture out by the airport. We hope that this initial setback may yet prove to be a little slice of providence, however; for, turned away, we found refuge in the welcoming arms of the U of M league. They may just have room for us, thanks to an 11th hour diplomatic mission to the Grain Exchange Building where, surrounded by gaudy athletic trophies, Ryan and I greased the palm of a husky administrator to the tune of thirteen hundred clams. Now, she will presumably consult the oracle, read some goose entrails, and get back to us by Wednesday. Here's hoping...
It would be a real shame for our hopes to die on the ground, as we've assembled a real quality looking bunch of lads to run for us this season. Our numbers include a sizeable contingent of planters from Northern Reforestation, and although the ability to bend over lots and withstand getting really filthy is not typically associated with smashing athletic success, we can at least rely on our bulbous calf muscles for some degree of intimidation. I haven't been planting over a year now, though, so I'm naturally considering buying some calf implants in order to look the part.
We also have a number of other random gentlemen whose acquaintance we've made at the local Tuesday night game, and whose skills would be a definite boost to our hopes (of not getting embarrassed). With affairs so unsure, though, we haven't yet nailed down a definite roster.
Put on the spot yesterday afternoon, Ryan and I had to come up with a team name, and Ryan quickly suggested "the Gordon Sinclair Jrs.", as a tender homage to his favourite local special interest journalist (this week's article: "Shame On Us! The secret plight of Winnipeg's orphaned, illiterate kittens"). Hope everyone can stand having his smug, bearded visage peering chidingly out from the front of their jersey.
Now we spend the next few days on tenterhooks, as we await hopefully the result of our application. We want this winter's Wednesday nights to be soccer nights, not Mario Kart nights.