The last in a series of blog posts from WSU Media Relations staffer Bryan Holmgren on the Shockers' Canadian exhibition tour…
 
I owe you an update after an eventful couple of days to close out our time in Montreal.
 
Although our trip lasted less than a week, it was remarkable how much the team progressed in such a short time. Back-to-back wins helped us finish out the trip on a positive note with a 3-1 record. The guys came back from a dozen down in the final minute of the third quarter to defeat McGill and put together 40 solid minutes to defeat a select team of Canadian pros.
 
Obviously the final score carries little meaning in an exhibition game, but there are still objectives. Our young guards gained valuable game experience running the offense (albeit under a modified set of rules) and, bit by bit, chemistry is being developed on both ends of the floor. Most importantly, the team had a chance to experience (and overcome) some adversity, which will serve them well heading into the fall semester.

We had a couple more opportunities to be tourists as the trip drew to a close.
 
A highlight came Tuesday morning when the group returned to the St. Lawrence River for a round of white water rafting. Little did we know that our time on the river would also include a dramatic water rescue!

 Six players stayed behind at the hotel because they were scared in order to rest up and focus their minds on that evening's game, but the 11 players that went had a blast.
 
Standard issue gear included a life vest, paddle and special head gear that looked a little bit like a miner's hat without the lamp. Coach Jans wondered aloud if maybe those helmets wouldn't be useful for practices.
 
The guys split into two rafts, and a mixture of the coaches and support staff who weren't "resting up" at the hotel, piled into a third.
 
Being part of the latter group, I can't offer much of a first-hand account of what happened with the players. We kept our distance from them, mostly out of fear.
 
Our plan to douse some of the guys with a bucket of water as we left the dock seemed like a good one, but we had forgotten just who we were dealing with. While the players' rowing form was pretty awful, a summer of two-a-days in the weight room trumped our summer of none-a-days. They took off after us like a rocket and quickly closed the gap.  With their oars, they began splashing cascades of water onto our heads, and within 60 seconds we were soaked.
 
This did not turn out to be too big of a deal, since we were headed for more of the same in the rapids.
 
We quickly found out that our guide was something of a practical joker. He was a bearded French-Canadian named Mike or Steve or something boring like that. Since I can't remember for sure, let's go with "Jean Pierre."
 
As we headed out into open waters, Jean Pierre gave us a quick crash course in rowing technique and protocol.
 
"When we get into the rapids, it will be tough for those of you in the front of the boat to hear what I'm saying," he said, "So when I call out a command, I need everyone to repeat it as loud as they can."
 
"When I call out a command, I need everyone to repeat it as loud as they can!" I dutifully shouted.
 
Everyone laughed and commented about how witty I am. Okay, not so much, but I'm the one telling the story here.
 
Basics included self explanatory commands like "forward", "hard forward" and "backward." More complex calls included "left forward, right backward" which would effectively spin the ship clockwise, and "right forward, left backward" which would produce the opposite effect.
 
When he shouted "down" we were to duck into the center of the boat while protecting our paddles from being swept away.
 
Our favorite command was "break" which meant "stop rowing and do nothing."
 
While many of us had experienced white water rafting in the Rocky Mountains, this was an entirely different experience. The St. Lawrence River near Montreal is far warmer and wider. It had all the feel of being on a lake, albeit with a strong current and water shallow enough to expose rocks and form a few rapids.
 
As we approached the first set of rapids, Jean Pierre glanced pensively at the obstacle ahead. He took a sip out something that looked like a flask, followed by a nervous gulp. "Vodka. Helps calm my nerves," he said.
 
Getting the reaction that he had hoped for, Jean Pierre laughed. "No, just kidding. It's water."
 
He had a great, albeit twisted sense of humor and preyed upon the weak and gullible. Over the next two hours, we became conditioned to it, but not before he had enjoyed a few laughs at our expense.
 
"See those pockets of bubbling water off to the left?" he quizzed. "Underwater volcanos. They erupt every three years. Just don't fall in and you'll be fine."
 
Or later: "This is actually my second week on the job, but I'm really excited because today they're letting me take a raft out on my own!"
 
From the back of the boat, Jean Pierre controlled a giant set of oars, which I'm pretty sure did 90 percent of the actual navigation.
 
While our efforts with the mini-paddles were admirable, I don't know that any of it was mission critical. I suspect that the the commands were mostly just a way to keep us busy while providing the illusion that we were somehow helping with the process.
 
I say this, because once through the roar of the rapids, Jean Pierre called out to Coach Heiar at the front of the raft, "Greg!"
 
"Break!" we all shouted gleefully, while yanking our blades from the water.
 
Jean Pierre continued to power the giant oars while simultaneously shaking his head. "No! I said, Greg!"
 
Despite the interlude, our boat's progress continued without incident, and we sheepishly dipped our paddles back into the foam.
 
As we cleared the patch of white water, Jean Pierre called out again. "Greg, what's that floating over there?"
 
It was, in fact, an upside down, floating sandal. For a moment we worried that it might be attached to something else. Perhaps the rapids had consumed a victim from one of the earlier groups?
 
As it turned out, the sandal belonged to Landry Shamet, who had lost it overboard and spent the last half of the ride wondering how he was going to get through the rest of the day with one only one shoe.
 
Needless to say, their post-expedition reunion at the dock was very emotional, and I'm very sorry if that anecdote fell short of your expectations for the "dramatic water rescue" that I promised earlier.
 
A few other stray observations:
 
* It's remarkable how versatile the people of Montreal are with languages, slipping effortlessly from the elongated vowels and airy, rhythmic cadence of French into perfect, conversational English, without a trace of an accent. That's a skill that comes only from learning both tongues at an early age, as opposed to out of a book or later in life.
 
*We watched a lot of the Olympics, albeit with a Canadian slant. Aside from basketball, the players seemed to enjoy rugby the most.
 
* We probably got a false perception of Montreal, based on the time of year. It felt a lot like San Diego North during our week there, with perfect ambient temperatures during the evening hours. Indoors was another matter. Because winter dominates the calendar and summers are far more mild, many of the buildings lacked central air. This was especially the case with the schools. Our last three games were played in non-air conditioned gyms. The McGill game was the toughest, with a large crowd adding additional body heat. A pair of oscillating fans were placed at the end of the benches provided a tiny bit of relief but were mostly there for decoration. Conservative estimates put the on-court temperatures in the 80-85 degree range.
 
* The Canadian schools were not accustomed to visiting media during the summer season. In fact, McGill mentioned that the Eagle's Paul Suellentrop was only the second American beat writer to ever attend a summer exhibition. Syracuse – which is within somewhat reasonable driving distance of Montreal – was the other back in 2014.
 
* Radio crews are also rare, so we had some logistical challenges on our hands when it came to getting Mike and Bob on the air for their KEYN broadcasts. During the regular season, most venues that we play in are well-equipped for radio. There is occasionally a hiccup, but with most of the day to set up and trouble-shoot, those problems are easily solved well before game-time. In Canada, however, we had all of half-an-hour from when the team arrived until the start of the broadcast. Expensive radio equipment helps mix microphone levels and clean up the overall sound quality, but in the most basic sense, remote broadcasts are just long distance call back to the radio station. However, times are changing and many crews (Mike & Bob included) now bypass the phone lines entirely in favor of an internet conduit. Getting access to that internet required some flexibility on our part. On a couple of occasions, Mike and Bob called games from card tables on the corner of the baseline. On another, they were stuck up in the rafters. Luckily, all four games made it onto the air and Shocker fans back home were able to keep up with the action from afar.
 
* True freshmen Austin Reaves and C.J. Keyser made the trip but didn't play due to injuries. Austin isn't ready for five-on-five but took part in individual drills before each game. Though he has been with the team only a short time, Reaves has already seen the diabolical mind of Coach Heiar at work. Some of the workouts that Heiar dreams up are every bit as entertaining as an actual game, with Reaves dribbling up to three basketballs simultaneously.
 
*If we eat many more meals like Wednesday night's dinner, we'll all be packing on some pounds. We finished out the trip at a Brazilian steakhouse in downtown Montreal, where the wait staff happily brought out skewer after skewer of assorted meats until they were finally turned away. A couple of the guys staged an impromptu challenge to see who could go the longest without turning down a slice of pork tenderloin, chicken, sausage or whatever was put in front of them next, but their stomach space ran out long before the food. The house always wins.
 
*We hit the lobby at 6 a.m. ET on Thursday to catch our morning flight out. We arrived at the airport, cruised through security and customs and reached the terminal with plenty of time to…. wait…. and wait… and wait… It did give us time to cash in the last of our foreign currency. With my last remaining Loonies, I bought the perfect Canadian souvenir: a maple leaf shaped bottle of maple syrup.