Hey, And again:
TIMOTHY CAMERON (ici)
at CASTRO'S LOUNGE 2116 "E" Queen Street East, Toronto
EVERY FREAKIN' TUESDAY (including this one coming up)
9pm to 11pm
So hockey season has started again. Oh joy. As you may have seen, the media were tripping all over themselves earlier in the week because Stephen Harper attended the Ottawa-Toronto game in Ottawa, and was seen cheering when the Maple Laughs scored a goal. Well, that's nice. I guess as long as the media are reporting on SOMETHING that's vaguely related to Parliament Hill, then we can all sit back and feel safe and secure in the knowledge that they're doing their job. Extra bonus points for tying hockey into the story, too.
Honestly, it seems like the news outlets are playing a game whereby the object is to take a story, and see how many degrees of separation are between the story and the NHL. "NEWS FLASH: President of Pakistan Rumoured To Be Closeted Habs Fan...film at 11:00..." If there was anything to be learned from the NHL strike that took place last year (or was it the year before?...I wasn't really paying attention...) it was the fact that the sport itself wasn't in danger as a result of the strike. It was still being played by people who play the game because they like it, not because their agent negotiated a seven figure deal. I actually heard some insinuations that hockey would never recover from the strike, which I thought was a hilarious notion. Imagine if McDonald's went out of business (no really, imagine it, it's a nice place to be for a moment). Would everybody start wringing their hands because the demise of the restaurant industry was upon us? Not likely.
And that brings me to another thing I've realized recently: The NHL is to hockey what McDonald's is to dining. Think about it. They're both big corporate machines with obscenely large advertising and promotional budgets at their disposal. They both have CEOs and General Managers, and for all I know the NHL even has shareholders. I always bust a gut when I see grown men painting blue maple leaves (that's how it's spelled you know: "Leaves") on their faces. It's really no different than painting a Xerox or Microsoft logo on your forehead. Imagine all the television sets in sports bars being tuned to the stock exchange, and the commentator getting himself in a lather thusly: "Nike's up to $45...now $46...this could be it folks...another shift like the one we saw in the first period and it could be all over for Adidas this season...another wind up and...YES !! YES!!! NIKE HAS HIT $50!!! IT'S ALL OVER!!!". And then imagine complete traffic gridlock at Yonge and Bloor because a bunch of hosers are riding around in their pickup trucks, leaning out the windows screaming "Nike Rules! Adidas Is For Fools!" or whatever. They could even have the "swooshstika" tattooed on their butts, which (in the spirit of the festivities) they could display for all the world to see.
Only another nine months to go. Yippee.