Cherry Poppins
I consider myself as Canadian as the next person. Five and six generations of my family born before me in this country, I am as Canadian as most who share this great land.
This is the time of the year when about a third of the population of this country return to their TV sets on a Saturday night. It’s the time when the leaves fall from the trees and the Leafs fall in the standings. Young men ply their trade on ice surfaces from sea to shining sea. It is the start of the next 8 months of hockey for all who care.
And so it was last night as I sat down with my older son Jake, my wife, my visiting mother in law, a neighbour or two and I am pretty sure there was a mouse in the corner peeking out from time to time to catch a glimpse of the score.
This isn’t hockey in my house, this is our equivalent of the Family Feud. We don’t have anyone who carries the charisma of a Richard Dawson – in fact we don’t even have anyone who can pull off a Sargeant Shultz. We do, however have a mad Leafs fan and three equally mad Habs fans sharing the same roof. The neighbours are always quick to arrive to help poor Jake’s cheering section grow, and last night, their cheers out muscled our groans as the two teams kicked off 2011 with a murky version of the game.
This article is not about the game in our house. This isn’t about a family divided in hockey and united on the X Factor. This is about the quality of the broadcast on our national channel. Last night, as I have for more years than I care to admit, I stared in amazement and awe after the first period, watching awful commercials and good commercials, and waiting. Waiting is what we do in between periods. It’s where the TV broadcasters make their money and we as viewers sit through 10 minutes of commercials to finally get to see 2 minutes of a man in a bad suit.
I will admit that I have never really been a fan of Don Cherry. As Canadian as I am, it almost sounds sacrilegious to admit this openly.
Canadian’s love him. Polls suggest in most elections that if he were running he would beat out the Harpers and McGuinty’s of this country. He’s as Canadian as Stompin’ Tom, Pierre Trudeau, Wayne Gretzky or Terry Fox and I love all those people for various and sundry reasons, but Cherry has always been the train wreck of my life. Awful and painful to watch, yet weekly or more often, I find myself tuned into him waiting on bated breath to hear what absurdities will be spewed forth from his gob every week.
Rarely if ever do I walk away from the TV thinking, hey that Don Cherry is right. Oh it happens, but it’s seemingly as rare as a Leaf Stanley Cup appearance.
Game one of 2011 and there was Don, nattily attired in his shower curtain-come-suit as big as life sitting alongside his confrere, Ron McLean and within seconds my blood pressure was dangerously high. Taking the NHL to task, Cherry spewed over and again about how the NHL has gone too far in its battle against the headshot and the new rules are going to make a mockery of the game. Following his “outing” of hald the fighters in the NHL, he basically undressed the league as being too soft.
To him, the game is about the violence not the sport.
When was the last time that Cherry stood in front of his millions of viewers and spouted off about the talented goals being scored from sea to sea? I don’t remember it ever. I know he has, but likely that was a comment he would eventually taint by adding a stupid comment about the nationality of the scorer.
News? Well no, this isn’t news. This is one man’s rant about a man who’s days have passed him by.
At 77 it’s time for Don to step down. Not because he’s 77, but rather because he’s no longer representing the majority of Canadians with his opinions. His days of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em hockey are no longer relevant. Hockey is and always will be a very rough and tumble sport. Be it under the watchful eye of Colin Campbell, Brendan Shanahan or Buffy St. Marie for that matter, the violence in the game is not being questioned. What is being addressed is the violence that is slowly removing the talent from the game – the head shots. Cherry is apparently opposed to this – or if not opposed, he’s simply not in favour.
I know that Cherry is a figure head and little else. He’s probably the CBC’s top paid on-air personality – money that comes from you and I of course. His controversial comments are merely fodder for viewership and honestly, are unlikely to be his real beliefs. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. I no longer think or believe that. Cherry is no longer capable of sounding logical. His years of rant and rave have finally taken over his brain and he now seems to believe in his own words.
For me that’s sad. Sad for the CBC and sad for hockey and sad for those of you who live and breathe by his stupid utterances.
This is the time of the year when about a third of the population of this country return to their TV sets on a Saturday night. It’s the time when the leaves fall from the trees and the Leafs fall in the standings. Young men ply their trade on ice surfaces from sea to shining sea. It is the start of the next 8 months of hockey for all who care.
And so it was last night as I sat down with my older son Jake, my wife, my visiting mother in law, a neighbour or two and I am pretty sure there was a mouse in the corner peeking out from time to time to catch a glimpse of the score.
This isn’t hockey in my house, this is our equivalent of the Family Feud. We don’t have anyone who carries the charisma of a Richard Dawson – in fact we don’t even have anyone who can pull off a Sargeant Shultz. We do, however have a mad Leafs fan and three equally mad Habs fans sharing the same roof. The neighbours are always quick to arrive to help poor Jake’s cheering section grow, and last night, their cheers out muscled our groans as the two teams kicked off 2011 with a murky version of the game.
This article is not about the game in our house. This isn’t about a family divided in hockey and united on the X Factor. This is about the quality of the broadcast on our national channel. Last night, as I have for more years than I care to admit, I stared in amazement and awe after the first period, watching awful commercials and good commercials, and waiting. Waiting is what we do in between periods. It’s where the TV broadcasters make their money and we as viewers sit through 10 minutes of commercials to finally get to see 2 minutes of a man in a bad suit.
I will admit that I have never really been a fan of Don Cherry. As Canadian as I am, it almost sounds sacrilegious to admit this openly.
Canadian’s love him. Polls suggest in most elections that if he were running he would beat out the Harpers and McGuinty’s of this country. He’s as Canadian as Stompin’ Tom, Pierre Trudeau, Wayne Gretzky or Terry Fox and I love all those people for various and sundry reasons, but Cherry has always been the train wreck of my life. Awful and painful to watch, yet weekly or more often, I find myself tuned into him waiting on bated breath to hear what absurdities will be spewed forth from his gob every week.
Rarely if ever do I walk away from the TV thinking, hey that Don Cherry is right. Oh it happens, but it’s seemingly as rare as a Leaf Stanley Cup appearance.
Game one of 2011 and there was Don, nattily attired in his shower curtain-come-suit as big as life sitting alongside his confrere, Ron McLean and within seconds my blood pressure was dangerously high. Taking the NHL to task, Cherry spewed over and again about how the NHL has gone too far in its battle against the headshot and the new rules are going to make a mockery of the game. Following his “outing” of hald the fighters in the NHL, he basically undressed the league as being too soft.
To him, the game is about the violence not the sport.
When was the last time that Cherry stood in front of his millions of viewers and spouted off about the talented goals being scored from sea to sea? I don’t remember it ever. I know he has, but likely that was a comment he would eventually taint by adding a stupid comment about the nationality of the scorer.
News? Well no, this isn’t news. This is one man’s rant about a man who’s days have passed him by.
At 77 it’s time for Don to step down. Not because he’s 77, but rather because he’s no longer representing the majority of Canadians with his opinions. His days of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em hockey are no longer relevant. Hockey is and always will be a very rough and tumble sport. Be it under the watchful eye of Colin Campbell, Brendan Shanahan or Buffy St. Marie for that matter, the violence in the game is not being questioned. What is being addressed is the violence that is slowly removing the talent from the game – the head shots. Cherry is apparently opposed to this – or if not opposed, he’s simply not in favour.
I know that Cherry is a figure head and little else. He’s probably the CBC’s top paid on-air personality – money that comes from you and I of course. His controversial comments are merely fodder for viewership and honestly, are unlikely to be his real beliefs. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. I no longer think or believe that. Cherry is no longer capable of sounding logical. His years of rant and rave have finally taken over his brain and he now seems to believe in his own words.
For me that’s sad. Sad for the CBC and sad for hockey and sad for those of you who live and breathe by his stupid utterances.
posted by G.M. Shier @ Friday, October 07, 2011
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