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Adam Banks

Cake-eater!

Adam Banks was the third love of my life.

The first was Kieran Perkins. Oh, he was sexy, with his swimmer’s body. Though, at the time, I didn’t think he was sexy… I thought he was “cute”. I spent a good proportion of my pocketmoney on a bookclub poster of him in his little speedo, which I put on my wall. At seven or eight (Eight! it was 1992, just before he won the gold medal), I didn’t realise the sexual undertones. I also bought another bookclub book at about the same time, called “Fun with Fashion”. I figured if I was going to be Kieren Perkins’ girlfriend, I better learn how to dress.

Sadly, the book was none too instructive, and Kieren Perkins married Symantha before we ever got the chance to meet.

The next love of my life was Shane Lewis. He was in my year at school. Nobody thought he was very hot, but I adored him. We never spoke. I was a dork, didn’t have a chance with him. I used to watch him play touch footy at lunch. Last I heard, he was living it up somewhere, and had been offered work as a model. See, even at 10, I had good taste.

And then came Adam Banks. Oh, Adam Banks. Remember him? Maybe this will jog your memory:

Adam was everything a boy should be. Athletic. Rich. Reformed snob. Talented. He didn’t speak much, but you just KNEW there was a lot going on there.

My Mighty Ducks obsession lasted years. Years. I think I first saw it in 1995. Oh, it must have been then, because when we went to the US in 1995, I spend $70 on Mighty Ducks stuff. That was a lot. I had a hockey stick, I had hats, I had t-shirts. I had copies of the movies. When D3 came out, I arranged for our WHOLE YEAR AT SCHOOL to go to see it- 60 kids. During the holidays. It was a feat of masterful organisation I’ve never matched.

My obsession lasted a little while after I arrived in the US to live. I ordered back-issues of “Teen Beat” and “Bop!” with Mighty Ducks stuff. I found a Mighty Ducks website. I downloaded every photo on the site onto specially-purchased floppy disks.

And I wrote a letter to Adam Banks. His real name was Vincent A LaRusso. All my pencil cases were adorned with “ER 4 VAL” in white-out. I wrote the letter, confessing my undying and enduring love for him, on specially-purchased floral stationery.

My abiding love for Adam Banks was, sadly, waning by the time I met Megan. But we shared a common, Mighty-Ducks-related heritage.

I love Megan. She is by far my closest and dearest friend. Sadly, we only see each other once every couple of years. But when we do, there is one tradition we never fail to honour. We rent one or more of the Mighty Ducks movies, and bake a tray of Potato Gems/ Tater Tots (depending if we’re in Australia or the US), and we spend an evening following the highs and lows of Coach Bombay and his Ducks.

Last time I was in the US, we decided to cyber-stalk the Ducks, to see what they’re up to now. Joshua Jackson (Charlie Conway), obviously, went on to fame in Dawson’s Creek, and is now dating that ridiculously hot and smart actress, whose name temporarily escapes me. Margurite Moreau (Connie) is still in movies: I saw her in this weird one a couple of years ago, and she had a fantastic guest role on The OC (talk about pandering to nostalgia!).

But Adam Banks. Where was Adam Banks?

To my DISMAY, we found this post.

Oh yes, that’s right, Adam Banks was WORKING AS A BARTENDER. In the PLACE WE HAD BEEN THE WEEK BEFORE. And we missed him. I was heartbroken. Heartbroken.

I’ve since found a whole cache of literature in the blogosphere abour Adam Banks sightings. Like here and here and even in a restaurant review here.

I echo the thoughts of those posters: You’ll always be my cake-eater, Vince.

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