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by Dave Bidini, The Toronto Star
Feb. 20, 2005
4 p.m., High Park Rink: The sky is dimming, absorbed by grey February clouds. It's getting colder. I head to the rink in the middle of High Park, but stop before I can jump the boards. Instead, I take to a W-shaped frozen sluice next to the rink, where I deke trees, fake the occasional stump and bewilder three kids who are sliding on a slippery plastic carpet across the ice. I trip over an outcropping of ice rocks and fall flat against the silver-coloured pond. My jeans stick to the ground so I lie there for a while.