The hard truth: No free breasts

By RON CORBETT
Ottawa Sun <> I want to tell you a funny story about the HOPE Beach Volleyball Tournament.
I was down there, off and on for part of the day, because my wife was playing on a team (the team record was 3-2 by the way, playing recreational, a decent enough record except one of the teams they lost to wore T-shirts that said Show Me the Money, which still bugs my wife a bit; sort of like letting Deion Sanders catch a pass in front of you) and anyway, I was down there off and on, and I couldn't help but notice a group of men, in their early 20s, sitting under the shade of a tree not far from the volleyball courts.
It wasn't a great surprise that they were in the shade. They all wore long pants. A couple even wore long-sleeved shirts. On a hot humid day, on a beach, they sort of stuck out. Perhaps you can see that.
Anyway, I pulled into the parking lot at Mooney's Bay a couple of times that day, then finally had to leave for good around mid-afternoon to work on a story, but as I was leaving I saw the group one more time.
I was curious. What in the world were they doing? I walked over to them while walking to my car.
"Hey guys, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
They all looked at each other, and then one of them, the leader I guess, partly because he spoke and partly because he had more clothing than anyone else, said:
"Sure, what do you want to know?"
"Well, I've seen you here a couple of times today, and I'm kind of curious why you're here. Are you playing on a team?"
They laughed.
"No," said the leader. "I've never played volleyball in my life."
"Oh, well, do you have friends on a team or something? You've been here most of the day."
More laughter.
"I don't think I even know anyone who plays volleyball," said the leader.
"OK, I've just got to know then. Why are you here?"
Uproarious laughter this time.
"We're here to see the girls go topless."
And that was the reason. Six of them. Sitting under a tree at Mooney's Bay, one of them with binoculors as it turned out, sweating like Mormons in a Swedish sauna, all looking for breasts.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No, we're not. We read in the newspaper that there were going to be topless teams here. I think they lied."
"I think the news story just quoted organizers saying it was a possibility. Isn't that how it went?"
Confusion for the first time on the faces of the Gang of Six.
"Maybe, I can't remember. But everyone's been talking about it. There's supposed to be topless teams here."
"And how many have you seen?"
"None."
The sadness on their faces would have been worth a picture. All day, sweating in plus-30 weather, and they've seen nothing but bikinis. Oh, the misfortune of it all.
Anyway, I stood there a minute. I had my answer, though I was still a little confused. I bit my tongue. Bit it hard. But I couldn't keep from asking one more question:
"Guys, you know there are easier ways of doing this. I mean if you really want to see breasts, why not just go to a strip club?"
They actually guffawed. Sat there on the ground, guffawing and trading quick glances at each other. Finally, the leader of the Gang of Six spoke:
"Oh sure, we know all about strip clubs."
"So why stay out here all day?"
And here was his answer:
"Well, anything we see today will be free."
Yes, that was his answer. Free breasts.
By all accounts the gang left disappointed; there were no topless teams at the HOPE Beach Volleyball Tournament. I spent two days afterwards listening to people chide the media (or, more specifically, me) for the lack of breasts at the tournament. We apparently predicted it or something, but at the end of the day I still think we did nothing to bring the Gang of Six down to Mooney's Bay.
In this world, there are stories. And there are fools.
We can't be blamed for the latter.