CBC Olympic Coverage On Target

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By Jason Menard

Oh, the pundits are out in force, suggesting that the CBC has been too hockey-focused throughout this Olympic Games. But, really, is there any reason to argue with giving the viewers what they want – and what they’ve proven to want in the past?

How have those competitive luge ratings been over the past three years? And what were the overnights on biathlon from 2005? Oh, non-existent, OK. Pass the microphone back to Mr. MacLean now.

If the CBC wanted to dedicate all of its programming to the men’s Olympic hockey tournament and only run a crawl of the other events along the bottom of the screen, would there really be any reason to complain? These same columnists, pundits, and talking-heads – have they used their valuable air time and ink to promote these same sports that they’re now lamenting as suffering from a lack of coverage?

No. The point is, in large part, we don’t really care about these secondary sports. Some of us will jump on the old Olympic bandwagon and take some undeserved pleasure from our dedicated Canadian athletes bringing home medals. Those same fans will be the first ones to lament the loss of a medal from an athlete of whom they previously hadn’t shown any interest in.

But hockey, ah… there’s the rub. It’s the reason why the CBC clings so tenuously to the rights to broadcast these games. There’s gold in them thar rinks and, whether or not it hangs from the necks of our players, as long as the pros are playing in the Olympics it will be ringing in the national broadcaster’s coffers from Turin to Vancouver.

The hand-wringing over the CBC’s men’s hockey obsession is just a small part of the greater, unsaid debate about the broadcaster’s mandate. If we look at the broadcaster as an advocate for fair public representation responsible for showing the depth and breadth of the Canadian experience, then coverage should be meted out equally for every event and every athlete. We can let everyone have their 15 minutes of fame and then all get together at the end of the day for a big group hug.

But the CBC is hesitant to fully embrace their role as a public broadcaster – especially if tightening that grip means they have to loosen their grasp on the ideal of commercialism.

The CBC isn’t at this time just a northern PBS, preparing quality programming without being concerned about ratings. It isn’t a channel that’s dedicated to quality and diversity just for quality and diversity’s sake. It’s a network competing with others like CTV and CanWest Global for advertising dollars and viewers’ eyes. If, for the past three years, viewers have shown a marked apathy for watching non-marquee sports, why change a programming focus when the goal is to get the remotes clicked to your stations?

The simple answer is, there is none. Life isn’t fair and while bobsledders, ski jumpers, and biathletes work and train as hard, if not harder and in far less luxurious conditions, than their professional hockey counterparts, the simple fact of the matter is that those sports just don’t seem to resonate with the fans.

As a competitive broadcaster, the CBC has to dedicate air time to the events that will bring in the ratings. However, wearing its public broadcaster’s hat, it has a responsibility to help build an audience for other sports and highlight the complete mosaic of Canadian athletes. CBC hasn’t exactly blacked out these other sports and has given its viewers an opportunity to experience a wide variety of events, competitions, and disciplines. But now it’s time for the average citizen to vote with their wallets and their support.

Skeleton or Snowboard Cross pique your interest? Then spend the intervening three years between Olympics going to local competitions, supporting the athletes, and watching it on TV. If an event isn’t televised, contact your local affiliate or the broadcasters themselves and say that you, as a viewer, are interested in these events and would like to see more air time dedicated to their coverage.

That way, the next time around, when a broadcaster goes about defining an on-air schedule, they’ll know that there’s value in dedicating resources and assets to events that previously may not have warranted as much attention.

After all, while the Olympics are all about gold, silver, and bronze, for the broadcasters the only colour they care about is green. And the viewers’ eyes and the advertisers’ dollars are the only groups that they’re interested in soliciting.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Reality Bites

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By Jason Menard

Feb. 21, 2006 — The perils of watching reality television include the simple fact that the more you watch, the more familiar it all becomes. And, when it comes to reality, one thing’s for sure – good things don’t come in threes.

Trying to get caught in the draft of the unexplicably popular American Idol (as proud of a Canadian as I am, I refuse to even refer to that Ben Mulroney-helmed disaster of a knock-off to which we’re subjected), two other shows have joined the fray: the “pick-some-words-out-of-a-hat-and-throw-them-on-a-page twins, Dancing with the Stars and Skating with Celebrities.

Both shows enjoy a sort of Surreal Life cachet of faded stars and B-list performers stepping out of their element and performing on a national stage. And, unlike the karaoke-quality wannabes that turn out for Idol, these dancers and skaters are able to instill a sense of conviviality with the viewers due to the fact that any of us can imagine ourselves in a similar fish-out-of-water scenario. Whereas the Idols are convinced they are the world’s gift to singing, Dancing and Skating’s participants appear to truly enjoy the experience, revel in the learning process, and grow.

Unfortunately, all good things don’t come in threes, and the inexplicable decision to replicate the judging tribunal on each show reveals either a lack of creativity or a calculated tweaking of the audience’s nerve endings in order to artificially stimulate a response.

All three shows employ archetypal judges that fit into three categories: the vapid, schmoopy, “I love everyone” soft-sell, female judge (Paula Abdul, the saccharine overloaded Dorothy Hamill, and Carrie Ann Inaba, best known for her stellar role as Fook You in Austin Powers: Goldmember, and her seeming dislike for anyone from the female race); the catch-phrase ridden, animated foil, middle-ground judge (the Aallllight Dawg-repeating Randy Jackson, the “what clever play on words did I think up this week to wedge into a performance review” Bruno Toniol, and the man who somehow mixes blandness with hyperbole, Mark Lund.

And, of course, there’s the third judge. Snarky, to-the-point, and British: the archetype, Simon Cowell, and his ex-pat brethren Len Goodman and John Nicks. These are the, albeit acerbic, voices of reason. They cut through the niceties and say what needs to be said – and, of course, a worthy competitor would take constructive criticism to heart and improve.

But that’s not the way these shows work. Taking a cue from our cultural over-sensitivity, the studio audience vociferously boos whenever a negative syllable is uttered. Apparently we’re not allowed to have people who are worse at something than another. To these fans, these shows should be nothing more than televised T-ball, where everyone gets a turn and no-one loses.

Or maybe it’s just another way to rub the British’s faces in the whole American revolution. You can have your cantankerous judge who speaks the truth, but they’ll assert their American dominance to thwart the judges’ nefarious cultural colonialism.

Want proof? Master P. Need more? Bruce Jenner. Again? How about any of the American Idol rejects who inexplicably outlive their usefulness at the expense of audibly more talented performers? And what’s the best way to ensure that these less-than-shining lights stay on the show? Make sure that the British judge either chastises the competitor or chides the audience for keeping them in the competition.

American voters hate being told what to do. Being told by a stuffy Englishman with an attitude? Horrific. I mean, the only thing I can think many Americans would find worse is being condescended to by a judge from France.

Alas, the joy in watching these shows doesn’t come from the idea that you’re going to see something groundbreaking. What people like is the familiarity. That’s why the rosters, for the most part, are riddled with known faces from our past, that’s why the songs used are non-offensive standards culled from history, and that’s why the sets and judging are all identically formatted. It’s electronic comfort programming at its best and its worst.

In the end, we want everyone to hug, everyone to be friends, and everyone to congratulate each other for just giving their all! And if it takes booing down a surly British judge, well then so be it.

Now, if only we could figure out how to export Ben Mulroney to one of these shows…

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

National Patriotism Only at Half-Mast

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By Jason Menard

It’s fitting that Canadians, frequently referred to as quiet, shy, and unassuming, would let the anniversary of the birth of our flag with nary but a whisper. But the time has come to raise the Maple Leaf and celebrate our heritage.

And, hell, an extra statutory holiday in February wouldn’t be bad either, would it?

At the stroke of midnight on Feb. 15 th our flag flew for the first time. And while the design and the process created quite the ruckus 41 years ago, for many of us – my generation included – the Maple Leaf has always been a source of pride and distinction that helps to set us apart from the rest of the world.

The reveal of this flag, with its heraldic description reading gules on a Canadian pale argent a maple leaf of the first, did more than just sever the visual bonds to our colonial forebears, it – almost as much as Confederation itself – announced to the world that Canada was its own country.

And while people may have mocked its design over 40 years ago, one would be hard-pressed to find a Canadian today who doesn’t look in appreciation at the flag that represents us all. It is instantly identifiable amongst the world’s emblems and carries with it generations of goodwill around the world.

Yet our national day of recognition for this fine flag comes and goes with a majority of people paying scant – if any – attention to its significance. We have made Canada Day our de facto celebration of the flag, yet its mid-February official celebration passes in relative obscurity.

As a rule, Canadians bear their pride in their hearts, they don’t wear it on their sleeve like our neighbours to the south. We have an intrinsic appreciation of what it means to be Canadian and a pride in the quality of life we have and our general appreciation for those around us. However, we don’t often feel the need to shout from the rooftops and proclaim our love for our great nation. We either don’t possess, or choose not to show, the fervent passion that defines not just our American neighbours, but citizens of countries around the world.

Perhaps it’s Canada’s Commonwealth Heritage that impedes our expression of pride. We retain a bit of the stiff-upper-lip mentality that is so stereotypical of the British and their colonies. Compare that with the rampant passion for the Fleur de Lys in Quebec. Is it the Gallic blood that boils hotter? Is there a reason why I’ve experienced more excitement and dynamism at a Fete Nationale parade (formerly known as St-Jean-Baptiste Day) than I ever have at any Canada Day celebration?

That shouldn’t be. We should cast off the shackles of our reservations and proclaim our pride for our country for all to see. Yes, we can still be frustrated with our government. Yes, we can continue to find things to improve within the country. Yes, we can ascribe to the philosophy that good enough just isn’t! But what we need to do is be appreciative not only for what we have, but for who we are.

Without sounding like a beer commercial, Canada truly is a great place to live. We have a great respect for life and for each other – despite our differences in politics, religion, and lifestyle. We have a respect for personal freedom combined with the need to ensure the best interests of society as a whole. We display a level of compassion and a capacity for understanding that’s world-class.

So why not celebrate all that we have? Why not raise the flag and let it fly high for all to see. Why not take pride in this visual representation of who we are.

The world looks at Canada’s flag and appreciates its unique nature – why can’t we do the same for ourselves. Why is it so hard to be a proud Canadian when we have so much to be proud of?

Maybe, just maybe, if we dedicate a day to recognizing how special our flag is, we’ll start to understand how special we all are.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Sign of the Times

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By Jason Menard

Good for the Air Canada Centre! After all, each of us need to do our part to fight the war on terror and violence, and through their due vigilance they were able to wrest a potentially lethal weapon from the grasp of Brody White.

Of course, Brody’s only 10 years old – but kids today are crafty. Think of the damage he could have done to an unsuspecting usher!

Yes, in yet another example of the old adage that states common sense is not so common, the staff of the Air Canada Centre, under a directive from the powers that be in the NBA and NHL league offices to bring in new security measures, deemed Brody’s hand-made sign a threat to the paying patrons at a recent Toronto Maple Leafs game.

And while the sign may have read “No. 1 Leafs fan” chances are young Brody’s willing to give up that title now.

Increasingly the Five Man Electrical Band’s statement of “signs, signs, everywhere a sign,” is become a quaint reminder of a bygone time. The corporate suits who run the game are flexing their muscle more regularly and sterilizing the sporting environment to the point where blind subservience is becoming a commodity to be bartered for a seat in the nosebleed section.

Look no further down the 401 than Detroit, where the Ford family tried to stifle the fan’s displeasure with the Detroit Lions’ general manager by preventing NFL fans from bringing in signs bearing the message “Fire [Mike] Millen.” While they didn’t go so far as to suggest that carrying a placard was tantamount to brandishing a firearm, they did use the lame excuse of how signs could obstruct the view of the other paying customers.

Oddly enough, I’ve been watching football for years and signage has never been a problem in the past. But in today’s sporting environment, we peons are no longer able to question the powers that be.

Honestly, it’s time for franchises to get a sense of perspective. Sports are an enjoyable diversion in our lives – but they don’t define it. This inflated sense of self is akin to the nauseating spectacle of the increased security measures Hollywood took following the attacks on New York’s World Trade Centre. As if Al Qaeda’s action that caused thousands to lose their lives and one of the world’s architectural icons to tumble wasn’t enough of a statement – damn it, Julia Roberts may be next! And what would the world do without her proficiency in romantic comedies?

I suppose when your sense of the world extends no further than your nose, it’s understandable that you can lose a sense of perspective. But how far is too far? Was ruining the enjoyment of a sporting event for a 10-year-old boy really worth it? Is the negative publicity gleaned from their actions a fair trade for the elimination of such a miniscule threat to public security?

This is not to undermine the legitimate security issues that are out there. One has to only ask Monica Seles whether or not fans can be a threat to athletes. But a sense of perspective must be deployed.

Otherwise why stop at signs? Why not force everyone to drop their car keys into a giant bowl at the gate? I’ve seen Chinatown! I know what those things can do to someone’s nose! What about people with prosthetic limbs? After all, there’s nothing that precludes someone who uses assistive devices from becoming part of a sleeper cell?

Or maybe, just maybe, we should look at 10 year olds as 10 year olds. Maybe sports franchises should be damn thankful that people are willing to shell out their hard-earned money to sit in the seats and announce to the world their love of a team.

So where do we go from here? As fans, do we continue to subject ourselves to the idiocy of overzealous mall cops who patrol our fields of play? Perhaps Toronto fans should make their displeasure known. If exuberance is cause for security concern, then the next NHL game at the Air Canada Centre should be greeted with absolute silence.

If our hands are a dangerous weapon, let’s comply with the intent of the ACC’s restrictive security policies by sitting on them during the game. No applause for the anthem. Greet the arrival of the teams with stone silence. And let the first goal of the game pass with nary a murmur from the fans.

After all, silence can be deafening – and maybe that way the message will get across.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

A Hair-Raising Way to Grow a Legacy

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By Jason Menard

José Théodore, congratulations, your potential for public shame has just turned into the potential for a few extra bucks in your wallet! And considering Théodore’s level of pay lately, he may need to start milking that cash cow sooner rather than later.

The Habs netminder’s agent should be on the phone contacting Merck today, if not sooner, to start angling for an ad campaign. With Josés flowing locks, matinee-idol good looks, and general personability, he’d be a natural in the line of Habs Who Schill.

Yes, the Canadiens franchise has spawned a few players who have gone on and benefited from their on-ice exploits to become lucrative off-ice pitchmen. It is a line that started with arguably the greatest Hab of all time – Maurice Richard.

Who of us of a certain age could ever forget the winsome smile of The Rocket as he glided up to the boards, looked into the camera, and said “I leave a touch of grey on the side – my wife likes it.” As a Grecian Formula pitchman, Richard’s visibility grew amongst an entirely new generation of hockey fans.

And it’s that return to relevancy that can take icons to immortal status. Legends are only as legendary as the level of reverence that the current generation holds for the individual. As time passes, subsequent generations are quick to dismiss the exploits of our forebears as evidence of a poorer quality of play, less-athletic competitors, and a lack of technological savvy.

A player like Maurice Richard continues to be relevant in large part due to his on-ice exploits and the oral history passed on from one hockey fan to another. But the impact of the visual representation through these advertisements can’t be diminished. Still not convinced? Two words: Bob Uecker.

Uecker is known more for his Miller Lite acting prowess than anything he did behind the plate. Which brings us to our next Hab to grace the small screen – Bernie “Boom Boom” Geoffrion.

A Hall-of-Famer in his own right, Geoffrion often gets lost in the discussion of great players from his era. Arguably the originator of the slap shot, his accomplishment is frequently overshadowed by Bobby Hull’s proficiency and role in popularizing the shot. But what can’t be forgotten is Geoffrion’s Miller Lite commercials appearing in the late 70s and early ‘80s. His brand of humour and accessibility resonated with an audience that was far too young to consider drinking.

Is it fair to say that Geoffrion’s star shines brighter than even his own father-in-law, Howie Morenz? While Morenz remains an icon to hockey historians and enthusiasts, the average fan is more familiar with Boom Boom than the Stratford Streak (or Mitchell Meteor – we don’t want to engage in any municipal favouritism). Why? The power of advertising, that’s all. For a man who was once known as the Babe Ruth of Hockey to be overshadowed by his formerly beer-shilling son-in-law, accessibility has to be a significant component of the equation. The demographic that grew up watching Bernie and Maurice on the small screen selling product instead of firing pucks at wary goaltenders is now the one that’s defining the direction of hockey. Those between the ages of 25 and 40 are the demographic that the networks cater to – and, in large part, we are the demographic that’s the caretaker of our legends’ statuses.

Obviously, this is not just a hockey issue. Look at the NFL’s John Madden. His fame arguably has exceeded that of the legendary Vince Lombardi, not because of his coaching exploits, but due to the fact that millions of money-earning (and spending) fans grew up and continue to play the video games that bear his name. Media makes superstars – and the savvy athlete knows when to strike while the iron is hot.

Which brings us to Théodore. With a Vézina Trophy behind him, he’s already proven his prowess between the pipes. Although struggling through a tough season now, there’s no reason to believe that he won’t return to his former glory. And, when he does, his legacy can be cemented with a few, tongue-in-cheek, self-referential advertisements, the memories of which will live on long past the time that he hangs up his skates.

Now’s the time Théo – after all, you know what they say, hair today, gone tomorrow.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved