(This article originally appeared at Some Canadian Guys Writing About Soccer on September 16, 2009. Wondering what this is? Click here.)
In a surprising move, the three hosts of the Toronto-based soccer show It’s Called Football have unanimously decided to abandon soccer coverage, move to New York City and form a folk parody band.
“I’ve tried everything I could think of to squeeze some money out of Canadian soccer — no good,” said Ben Rycroft. “But we’ve got good chemistry, so why not music? We’ve got a band, and I’ll manage the band. I’m the band manager.”
“I do 645 kids’ shows a year as it is now,” said guitarist Ben Knight. “So it’ll be nice to have a lighter schedule.”
[PRBREAK][/PRBREAK]
“New York is the city for me,” commented bassist Duane Rollins. “I’ve always wanted to meet that Naked Cowboy guy.”
To ease the transition for fans, the newly-dubbed It’s Called Folk crew have released a staggeringly-poorly-made promotional poster featuring the band members in their newfound rock personas.
In order to conserve their scarce resources, the band intends to lease space in an unused supply room within the Canadian Consulate on Avenue of the Americas.
Sources of dubious reliability have suggested that upon entering the music game, the band will encounter difficulty in attracting fans, overcome a variety of hilarious obstacles and personal disagreements, face a never-ending wave of innocuous-but-annoying cultural stereotypes about their Canadian background and, ultimately, become an unexpected and unlikely worldwide success.
“I manage the band,” offered Rycroft, unsolicited.
Reaction amongst the trio’s existing fanbase is mixed. Recurring It’s Called Football guest “Big Newf” was unimpressed.
“This is the biggest outrage since… since… since Pablo Vitti and Chad Barrett adopted a baby, taught it how to score goals, and the kid got signed by Mo Johnston,” said Newf, citing a (hopefully) impossible scenario to demonstrate his frustration. But another recurring guest was less displeased.
“Hey, I was just planning to move to New York City,” said “Squizz” of Some Canadian Guys. “And into a place on Avenue of the Americas, too… weird…”
When asked about gigs that he had lined up for the band, Rycroft stared at a yellow notepad for a few moments, before stammering: “Erm… well, I’ve got them a gig at this studio at Bay and Dundas.
“I’ve also got them this gig at a place called the Greyhound.”
Calls to the bus company of the same name went unreturned.
As for the band’s sound, it’s also a work in progress.
“I’m working on a tune called the Dichio,” said Rollins. “It runs 23 minutes and 13 seconds. See what I did there?”
What’s it going to sound like?
“I dunno,” said Rollins, fiddling with his bass. “But it’s 23 minutes and 13 seconds long. Get it? And the second tune is called Sniper.”
Because…?
“Because the Sniper made the Archer obsolete. The Archer is obsolete now. Get it? Get it?!?!!”
Rollins was assured that the reporter did, indeed, get it.
And while their success is yet to be seen, the trio at least appear to have high hopes.
“I don’t care how many fans we attract,” said Knight. “It’ll just be nice to play music for people who are potty-trained.”