Category Archives: Sports (MC Archive)

Sports columns that appeared on Jason Menard’s previous Web site, Menard Communications.

New/Old Hockey Makes the Grade

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By Jason Menard

It was inevitable, of course. The whispers of discontent regarding the new version of hockey are slowly working their way up to a dull roar. But the danger is that we’re not seeing the forest for the trees – and clear-cutting the whole region is not the answer.

You put certain media types together in a confined space and the cynicism comes out. In their hypercritical, hyperbole-friendly manner of existence sports reporters – especially the bad ones – tend to go overboard in their reactions either one way or the other. That’s why it comes as no surprise that a pair of reporters covering a recent London Knights contest were trying to outdo each other in their negativity.

“So much for that crackdown on holding,” says Mr. Cynic.

“Yeah, it was just a matter of time,” replies Mr. Curmudgeon.

“Look at that – that hook would have got you two minutes at the beginning of the season,” opines Mr. Cynic.

“Yep, it’s back to the old hockey,” concurs Mr. Curmudgeon.

Now, let’s rewind to the beginning of the year when the complaints would have been like this:

“Wow, he just tapped him with the stick and it’s a penalty,” Mr. Cynic notes.

“Yep, you can’t even breathe on a guy without getting sent to the box,” Mr. Curmudgeon replies.

“How can you play defence like this? What’s next, looking at a guy’ll get you five?” retorts Mr. Cynic.

“Yep, this new hockey’s basically pond hockey with boards,” concludes Mr. Curmudgeon.

So you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. But beyond the hypercritical who see every missed hook and every minor hack that gets ignored as evidence of a return to the dark ages, today’s game is better than it was just two years ago (well, for the NHL – last year for everyone else.)

After an early feeling-out period where defenders were overcompensating for the stricter enforcement of obstruction-type penalties, players, refs, and coaches alike appear to have come to terms with the new NHL. Refs may not be so quick with the whistle, but that’s in large part to the better mutual understanding of the game.

What we have is a faster-paced game, with more offence. Defence is still a part of the game, but it has to be based on intelligence and positioning, not just goons getting their big meat hooks into approaching attackers. We have games where fans know that even if their team is two or three goals down in the third period, there’s still the opportunity to come back. We have more end-to-end rushes and more counter-attacks. We have, in essence, the game for which we’ve been asking for the past few years.

So why the complaints? Why the grumbling? Simply put, fear. We’re afraid of letting the game deteriorate to the point that it was two years ago. We let the game deteriorate on our watch, and we’re wary of letting it happen again.

What’s worked? What hasn’t? It seems that listening to fans, players, and general managers paid off for the NHL brass. Shocking that those most directly involved in the game would have the most insight into how to fix it.

Simply put, the NHL has scored on most fronts: the elimination of the centre red line has opened up the flow of the game and eliminated the countless – and pointless – offside calls. The restriction on the size of goalie equipment has not turned all goalies into human sieves, nor has it unnecessarily put their lives at risk. Even the contentious no-goalie zones in the corner of the rink has worked out, reducing, but not banning goaltender involvement in puck control. Best off all, we’re enjoying a faster game without having to impact the size of the ice surface. The game got faster without the rink getting wider, so purists – and money-conscious owners – are happy.

Overall the game is faster, the skill players are showcasing their wares, and fans are being treated to a level of hockey they haven’t seen since the late 80s/early 90s. The old/new NHL is working – but it’s not time to rest on its laurels.

The league must do something about making visors mandatory. Fans pay good money and invest in their heart and souls in these players – the least they could to is protect themselves. As well, something has to be done to encourage hitting. While speed is a big part of the game’s resurgence, the body check should not be phased out as a result. Because of overzealous refs and a lack of understanding about how the rules would be enforced, many players shied away from laying the body. But that has to change.

Hockey at its best is fast-paced, hard-hitting, and intense. We’re part of the way there – it’s not time to stop now. For the first time in year’s the NHL is creating a buzz. Now they just have keep on keeping on, and not ruin the momentum.

But for a league that’s long been known to shoot itself in the foot, will reaching this successful height prove to be too dizzying? Fans everywhere are holding their breath (but not their opponent’s stick!) in anticipation.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Money Yes, Pride No

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By Jason Menard

Apparently, when it comes to national pride, some of our athletes’ hearts can only be bought – not donated.

More and more Canadian athletes are coming forth to proactively decline even the notion of carrying the Maple Leaf in the opening ceremonies in the upcoming Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy. The general consensus is that the pressures of competing and the energy that’s required to do so precludes them from expending any extra energy in carrying the flag.

Interestingly enough, Catriona Le May Doan didn’t suffer from that expenditure of extra energy when she proudly carried the Canadian flag in the Salt Lake City games before winning speed skating gold. I suppose we’ll always wonder how much better Gaetan Boucher would have competed in Sarajevo without the burden of carrying the flag – after all, he only won two golds and a bronze. What if?

From Silvie Daigle’s gold to Brian Orser’s silver, the flag has not really had a negative impact on those that carry it. Sure, Jean-Luc Brassard and Kurt Browning had less-than-stellar performances after being the nation’s flag bearer, but is that really to be blamed on the opening ceremonies?

The Canadian Olympic Committee has asked each sport to submit its nominee as a flag-bearer. From that pool, the committee will then choose who they feel would be the best representative of Canada on this international stage. And while most of us would give considerable parts of our reproductive organs to have this honour, there are those athletes who are choosing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I can only hope they get kicked by it.

It seems when the cheques come in funding the training and living expenses for our elite athletes, it’s alright to be a Canadian. But to take part in a deeply symbolic ritual that stokes the flames of passion and nationalism in the hearts of those who can get no closer than their couch to the event – well, that’s crossing a line.

I’m sure that the flag is heavy and cumbersome. In fact, I can understand how these elite athletes can get fatigued by walking the WHOLE length of a stadium carrying this awkward pole. And then, when the wind kicks up and the flag billows majestically in the evening breeze – unfurling to show the world the beauty and uniqueness of our national flag – well, yes that could get a little tricky on the ol’ balance.

Normally I don’t care about the Olympics. And, to be honest, neither do most of you who are reading this. The fact is that Olympic fever spreads across this country like a plague every couple of years (alternating for summer and winter, of course). Sports and athletes that we normally don’t care about or support by attending any of the intervening competitions or meets during the other three years, suddenly become front-page fodder. Guys that normally couldn’t tell a salchow from a slapshot are suddenly debating the inconsistencies of international judging and its negative impact in North American competitors.

And once these Olympics are over, the spotlight will fade on these same athletes well before the last ember of the torch is extinguished. In the interval, they have the attention of the world on their hands – they should relish it. When you toil in obscurity for so many years, why turn your back on the opportunity to have your moment in the sun?

Maybe it’s a rejection of the band-wagon jumping fans who only care about these athletes when there’s a medal around their necks. And that’s understandable to an extent. Fans are quick to condemn these athlete’s when they don’t show up on the podium, despite not showing any concern for their fates in the intervening years.

But at the end of the day, Canadians are the ones who fund the athletes’ experience. The competitors supply the drive and motivation, but we supply the means. To reject the flag is a rejection of Canadians. Not only has the average fan invested in the athlete’s experience, but to be offered the privilege of carrying our national flag is an honour – and to reject it outright is an insult, no matter what your reason is.

One of the greatest Olympic images is of the countries where these athletes struggle each day to live – not just compete. And when they’ve overcome such overwhelming odds to show up on the national stage their pride is palpable. Remember back to the first time that athletes represented individual countries formerly under the Soviet Republic – they took pride in their flag and their country. Perhaps we live too pampered of a life to appreciate what it means to be Canadian. Perhaps these athletes should look around at their co-competitors and learn first-hand what it means to have pride in your nation.

These athletes who have peremptorily removed their names from consideration as a flag bearer have to wonder – should they go on to win gold, will it be tarnished by their symbolic rejection of the very nation they’re supposed to represent.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Frozen Passion Stokes Nationalist Flame

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By Jason Menard

The Olympics are fast approaching and people all around are working on their calf-strengthening exercises – you know how hard it can be on your legs jumping on and off the bandwagon. But while the alleged thrill of international competition does nothing for more in general, I have to admit that the upcoming Olympic hockey tournament has stoked my nationalistic fires.

I watch the Olympics just like everyone else – how can you not, it’s on pretty much all day every day – but that spark that ignites the rabid sports fan in even the most anti-athlete continues to elude me. As proud as I am of my country, I can’t seem to get stoked about winning a medal in ice dance. Nor am I despondent about a poor showing in skeleton (as cool as that sport is.)

Simply put, these are sports that I don’t care about for the intervening three years of my life, so why should I suddenly live and die with their fortunes once every four years? I find that somewhat hypocritical, but who am I to sit in judgment. If other people care (and they do, judging by the sudden rise in and sheer volume of arm-chair experts who can go on about the inequities in figure skating judging for the Eastern European bloc, despite not knowing the difference between a Salchow from a Lutz) then that’s their prerogative.

If you can gain enjoyment from this type of mercenary sports enthusiasm, then I say more power to you. But it’s really too bad that Olympic fever is such an acute disease. It would be nice if the infection that people get when the stakes are highest would stick around after the Olympic flame is doused. Our athletes, in large part, toil before empty houses dotted only with the odd friend or family member. While 21,000+ will sell out the Bell Centre in Montreal, ski jumpers, bobsledders, and biathletes toil in relative obscurity. Their efforts only mattering – and being unfairly scrutinized – once every four years.

However, before I douse the Olympic flame totally, let me say there is one event that stokes the fires of my competitive heart. One event that prompts me to stand up (OK, sit up forcefully on my couch) and proclaim my pride in my nation. And that sport is hockey. Already, with the various national squads announcing their teams, the thrill of anticipation is rising in me. I scan the rosters, plan out match-ups, and look for potential road blocks on the way to gold. Make no mistake, I’m excited – and I’m not alone.

I grew up in the Canada Cup era. Born slightly after the Canada-Russian Summit Series, I grew up being regaled with the stories of that epic tournament. Those implanted memories stuck with me as I became a hockey fan in my own right. And, growing up during the Cold War, those Canada-Russia games were the epitome of athletic and social competition.

As a proud Canadian, my heart sailed and sunk with the on-ice exploits of our national hockey teams. From the Canada Cup to the World Cup tournament, from the World Juniors to the World Championships (also known as the consolation prize for good players on crappy NHL teams who can’t get to the playoffs), and now to the epitome of competition – the Olympics.

Sure, these aren’t amateurs and, as such, aren’t competing in the spirit of the Olympics. But, come on, this is the best of the best competing at their peak in mid-season form. The world’s best players returning to their home countries to don their national colours and take to the ice with more than just gold, silver, or bronze on the line. They face off with the goal of earning, protecting, or restoring national pride.

What makes this even better is that I care about these people and this sport. I watch hockey in the intervening three years and am familiar with the players. I watch the junior and national programs, so I feel like I have an investment in the program. Try as I might, I couldn’t care who’s representing Canada in curling, and I will feel no joy or pride in winning gold in that event.

But if Canada comes home with gold in hockey, that’s a celebration I can legitimately feel a part of. I’ve supported the program not only in two-week Olympic intervals, so I feel justified that I’ve made enough of an investment to earn a return!

I liken it to an experience I had in high school. I won an award for top German student in grade 10 (ask me if I remember anything now), and I took little pleasure in it. However my friend, who worked his butt off and legitimately strove for this recognition, was legitimately upset when he lost. He cared, I didn’t. How much more would winning that award have meant to him? And that’s the way I feel about most Olympic sports. If I win, fine – but don’t ask me to get excited.

While many will be living vicariously through the exploits of our undeservedly anonymous speed skaters, bobsledders, and lugers, I’ll be saving my enthusiasm for when the puck drops. Winning is good, but winning at something you’ve invested in makes it all the better. If I’m going to live and die with something, it has to be something that I actually care about.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

The Greatest Threat to National Unity

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By Jason Menard

The greatest threat to National Unity doesn’t come from the Plains of Abraham or the Oil Sands of Alberta. No, the most divisive force our country faces comes once every four years.

That’s right, forget the Péquistes or those oil-rich Albertans, the cracks in our national mosaic widen each time the World Cup of Soccer rolls around. Those who are proud to call themselves Canadians every other day of their lives shun the Great White North each and every time the world’s best take to the pitch.

Already the rumblings have started. With the recent announcement of the brackets for the 2006 tournament in Germany, people have begun to scan the pools to see where their favourite squads are, and the gentle murmurs now will become a roar when June rolls around. And, although Canada doesn’t find itself in any bracket, not too many people seem to be too broken up about it.

When the World Cup comes about we cease to be a nation of hyphenated Canadians. We become a divided nation of displaced Italians, Brazilians, Portuguese, English, French, and Czechs. We cling tightly to the thinnest threads tying us back to whatever Old Country is taking the field. And we cheer with pride for their victories and lament each loss as a personal defeat.

All this for a sport that, in large part, we don’t really care about. North American soccer leagues struggle annually to attract fans. Club teams in cities across Canada play before almost empty stands, populated only by those whose familial obligations compel them to attend. Yet, schedules are changed, lives are rearranged, and World Cup soccer becomes must-see TV for those who normally wouldn’t know their Tottenham from smoked ham.

So why do many of us cast aside our Canadian identities the moment Italy versus Brazil shows up on the screen? Why, in cities small and large from east to west, do we find people waving other countries’ flags out the windows from their cars every four years? One reason is the fact that Canada’s national soccer program ranks behind such industrialized powerhouse nations such as Guinea, Qatar, and Albania. Before we get too down on ourselves, note that we would be slightly favoured in a match against Burkina Faso. Yes, when your team ranks 87 th in the world it’s hard to get stoked about the home side.

Since there’s no Canadian team to speak of on the global scene, soccer fans are forced to find other reasons for affiliation that extend beyond geography. As such, history becomes the defining factor. My wife, as French-Canadian as she comes, fiercely supports the boys from Brazil – all because of a two-year sojourn living and working in Brasilia.

Yet, for many of these national bandwagon-jumpers the allure of foreign dominance begins and ends with soccer. Rare is the flag-waving Italian-Canadian who will do the same when the field of play moves from the pitch to the ice. When it comes to a sport where we dominate, our national pride returns to the fore.

Which begs the question: are we a nation of front-runners, flipping affiliations depending on which way the victorious wind blows? Are we emotional mercenaries looking to back the winning side so that we’re certain to savour the fruits of victory?

Honestly, we’ll never know until Canada is able to field a national team that can kick its way out of a wet paper bag. Currently a national joke amongst those who cherish the sport, what would happen if we fielded a squad in which we could take pride? And what about if we were ever to ascend to the favourite status? Would those national affiliations continue to fall along the lines to which we’re currently accustomed?

Or would geography trump history? Would the people and nation we are now finally outweigh any ancestral ties we may cling to? Would Canadian soccer fans resemble their hockey brethren on an international stage? We may never know.

I’m a Canadian with both English and French heritage. And, more importantly, I don’t really consider myself a soccer fan. I’m not a weekend warrior watching the feeds from overseas during Championship League play. Yet, I can appreciate the grace and skill of high-level soccer played by elite athletes. I don’t live and die with any win or loss, nor do I have a favourite side in any match. Without the binding nature of ancestral tethers, I’m free to enjoy the games purely for their displays of athleticism and talent – but with no emotional attachment.

Well, at least until Canada fields a team. And, for me at least, I know where my heart will lie.

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Time for Raptors to Evolve

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By Jason Menard

Is it too late to pick up the “loveable losers” tag from the Chicago Cubs because the 2005-2006 edition of the Toronto Raptors certainly need something to hang their hat on?

Alas, following a November that left the team 1-15 on the season is just pitifully bad. The eminently likeable head coach Sam Mitchell appears before the media’s cameras resembling Nero more and more, fiddling while the franchise burns behind him.

There are only so many times you can say your team is playing hard, working hard, learning well, developing in practice, or whatever other excuse Mitchell’s been using to deflect the fans from the hard and fast truth. This is a bad team.

Hope for the future is great and all, but we live in an instant gratification society. It’s easier to appreciate the aging of a fine wine when you’ve been able to taste a couple of batches along the way to test its progress. However, if you make that same wine aficionado abstain until the vintage is ready, chances are you’re going to have some cranky days along the way.

It’s fine and dandy to promise wins that will come one day, but the fans need the odd reminder of what a W looks and feels like.

Compounding this is the natural inferiority we, as Canadians, feel about our professional sports franchises. Whether or not we like to admit it out loud there’s always a feeling that these professional leagues, based south of the border, look at Canadian franchises as nothing more than annoyances better to be relocated to a more favourable environment. And it’s not a fear based on paranoia as NBA fans in Vancouver, MLB fans in Montreal, and NHL fans in Quebec City and Winnipeg will attest to.

Winning is the only way to ensure long-term financial security. The Toronto Blue Jays have started to figure it out, investing money into a franchise that’s not even a contender in its big-money game, but has a little potential for success. Remember, we Canadians support our teams win or tie!

But beyond fan support, the other aspect that we as Canadians have to deal with is American ignorance. Getting players to relocate north of the 49 th is as difficult as pulling teeth at times. So, once they’re here we want them to stay. Make ‘em happy, keep ‘em smiling and maybe more will come. Take a look at the World Series-winning Jays for example – they were a franchise that people wanted to play for, not a destination to be avoided at all costs.

Which brings us to the NBA’s Raptors. Blessed with the rights to a talented cornerstone upon which the franchise can be built in Chris Bosh, already the concerns are starting to rise. Will he stay once his rookie deal’s done? Can we keep him? Do we have the right management to build a contender before he bolts south of the border?

It’s not a lot of fun in Raptorland, either for the players or the fans. Despite the ever-gracious Bosh and fan-favourite Matt Bonner the team hasn’t been able to capture the fans’ imaginations as loveable losers – they’re just losers, and that has to stop.

It’s time for a complete overhaul of the franchise, only a decade into its existence. The team is burdened with a dinosaur-sized weight of past burdens left malcontents like Damon Stoudamire, Tracy McGrady, and Vince Carter, dismal seasons, and lost hope. The 2005-2006 Raptors have been crafted with the idea of starting from scratch and building together for a bright new future powered by Bosh and fuelled by rookies like Charlie Villaneuva, Joey Graham, and Jose Calderon. Why hamper their development by fitting them with ill-fitting clothes?

It’s time to finally make the Raptor extinct and create a new attitude and culture of winning. It’s not enough to just rearrange the furniture if the exterior looks the same. Open the concept of a new team name to the fans and let them feel some sort of ownership for the franchise. Choose a colour scheme and logo that kids can be proud to wear. And wipe the slate clean of the history of losing that the Raptors name carries with it.

The team has tried everything else: new managers, new upper management, new ownership, and new players. So why not start a new era with a new attitude and new mentality, prominently displayed by a new logo.

After all, the Toronto Loveable Losers doesn’t sound any worse than what they are now, does it?

2005 © Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved