The Little Church On Trinity Street.

It was a hot summer Thursday afternoon in downtown Toronto and I was very busy doing my route. On the northeast corner of Bathurst and Bloor streets I was approached by an attractive woman with a briefcase. She excused herself, told me her name and she said she was a talent scout.

Immediately, she had my attention.

“Do you play ice hockey?” she asked me.

Immediately, I thought I was on candid camera. This had to be a setup.

“Yes, a couple times a week” I answered, still curious as to why this woman had stopped me to ask if I played hockey on a hot summer afternoon.

“Why?” I asked her.

She explained how she worked for an advertising agency and she was looking for guys who fit my build, height and my approximate age. On that day I was 6’4”, a buck ninety-five and in my late twenties. The fact I played ice hockey only meant that I was exactly what she was looking for on that afternoon.

It was around this time there were a series of beer commercials that featured various former National Hockey League players. The ads could only be seen on the American channels. Here in Canada there was some type of law at the time that prohibited celebrities from promoting the consumption of alcoholic beverages in print, radio or TV ads. It was one of those stupid, archaic and embarrassing laws Canada had become known for.

She explained her company would be running the hockey beer ads in Canada, but without the former NHL players. They would be filming new ads within the month and they needed hockey players for the new commercials. She asked me if I would be willing to do a screen test and without any hesitation I agreed. It was explained to me that if I passed the screen test I could possibly have an actual speaking part in one of the two thirty second commercials. If I failed the screen test then I could still be considered as an extra for some of the on ice background footage.

I just assumed we would be going into one of the nearby offices for my screen test right away. After she took my name and phone number, she handed me a business card.

“Show up to this address on Tuesday night at 7 pm.” She told me.

“You’ll need to wear a hockey jersey and bring a helmet for your screen test.” She added.

As I walked east along Bloor Street, I was beginning to feel a bit like a celebrity myself that day. I wondered if this could indeed be my big break on the verge of Hollywood stardom. I looked at the address on the card; it was at some church over on Trinity Street. I put the card in my wallet and continued on with the rest of my day.

Tuesday morning quickly arrived, I threw my Blazing Bulls white jersey along with my white Jofa helmet in my car and headed off to work. I had my whole day all planned out. I would need to have my work day finished and be back at the yard by 5:30 pm. It would be a good hour plus drive back into the city. That would allow me plenty of time to get rid of my nervousness and prepare for my big audition. I also needed to grab a couple coffees on the way. One for the drive down and one for when I arrived at the church. I wanted to be awake, alert and to appear like I had done this audition routine many times before.

Afterall, this will probably be my one and only chance at movie stardom and I needed to be ready.

No excuses.

Trinity Street is located in one of the oldest areas of Toronto; it dates back to the early 19th century. The street is less than a quarter mile long and extends from Toronto’s historical Distillery District up to King Street. When I arrived at the church I could not find a parking spot. I found this rather strange since it was not a residential area and it was already early evening. There were so many cars parked on Trinity Street that I had to park two streets over.

As I approached the small hundred year old little church, I knew right away I was at the right place. I saw a few guys smoking outside wearing hockey jerseys and one guy also had his helmet on. I opened the single, heavy, thick wood door and walked inside.

Seriously, are you fuck’n kidding me?

I think every guy in his twenties who played ice hockey and was over six feet tall was already inside the church. Everyone was wearing a hockey jersey and some guys were wearing while others were carrying their helmets. I knew there was going to be a few of us auditioning, but I had no idea there would be this many.

I felt like just going home.

Then again I could have the best audition out of everyone, I thought to myself. I was still clinging to aspirations of my name someday in bright lights on movie marquees all around the world. I decided to stay and wait my turn. We were all divided into groups and we were told each of us would have our turn in front of the camera.

Eventually, after an hour or so it was my turn as I walked over to the barstool holding my helmet in my hand. A girl patted some makeup powder on my cheeks, chin, nose and forehead. There were two big bright lights focused on the stool and I remember feeling their intense heat as I sat down. Someone scribbled my name and phone number on a little chalkboard where it was placed on a stand in front of me facing the camera.

There was a monitor in front of me. I had to read the two sentences on the screen out loud while looking into the camera. Someone asked if I was ready?

"Yes" I said.

A guy with a clapperboard jumped in front of me and made a sharp, loud clap sound.

“Action” he yelled.

After I read the two sentences, the little red light on top of the camera went off. I could not see the guys behind the camera because the lights were so bright. They would have been watching my audition on monitors. If they liked what they saw I would be sent to another room for further testing. If they didn’t then I was done and there would be no retakes.

“Thanks Mike for coming out.” I heard from behind the camera.

I stood up and exited stage left as another Hollywood hopeful eagerly took my place on the stool. And just like that my career in show business had come to an abrupt end before it had even started. I stood and watched the next ten or so guys audition from the back of the church before I left. Each guy who like me looked into the camera and repeated the same two sentences. Also just like me all of their screen tests ended in failure and each one of them stood up helmet in hand and walked out of the church.

Show business is such a cutthroat business.

I was told before I left that my screen test would be kept on file. Perhaps another opportunity may come along somewhere down the road.

“Great, but I'm not going to be sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring," I said jokingly.

Good thing, because it never did.