"Bonjour tout le monde ! Je m'appèle Peter et JE NE PARLE PAS BIEN LE FRANÇAIS."

That's how my stay in Quebec began. I came into the dressing room, having practiced those two sentences of French (in my fetching colonial British accent!) over and over, thinking it might endear me to my new teammates. Turns out since we're all simulated and none of us are real, everyone speaks English - I'm not sure how that works, exactly. Science!

When I look around the locker room now, I see I was a fool. There is no French to be had anywhere! I had reckoned wrongly. We have Italians and Vikings and English-speaking people whose names are from anywhere in Europe, really. A real triumph of the British Empire, that!

I was welcomed into this group. Other rookies were drafted ahead of me. So be it. I'm here to be the fellow who helps others succeed. Perhaps someone will coach me regarding my fear of approaching the enemy net.