Saturday, July 1:
HAPPY CANADA DAY!!! Proudly wave your flags, Canada!!!
So, the Toronto Maple Leafs finally did the smart thing and waved goodbye to Tie Domi. Can't say I was ever a fan. Yes he put people in the seats, but shouldn't there come a time when trying to win a Stanley Cup is more important than employing a guy with limited talent who was simply handy with the mitts? This past season, he was not much more than a liability. One thing about Domi -- he knew the political game inside out and he played the Toronto news media (as opposed to the sports media) like a violin master.
Sorry to see Martina Hingis bow out of Wimbledon this early. I think her comeback has been nothing short of remarkable. To me, she's the best tennis player in the world to watch because she thinks out there and isn't hestitant to try any shot, any time, to keep her opponents off guard.
Sunday, July 2:
Yes, he's a wonderfully talented footballer, but it's beyond time for Wayne Rooney to grow up. You could argue that he was the victim of over-zealous officiating yesterday in England's World Cup quarterfinal loss to Portugal, but that would be missing the point. At a time when his mates needed him the most, the English star failed to read that Portugal was egging him on, taking advantage of his well-known short fuse. Rooney reacted, was shown a red card and England was once again on its way out of a World Cup. The Portugese player doing most of the egging on? His Manchester United teammate Cristiano Ronaldo, who is sure to earn a rather frosty reception at Old Trafford when the Premier League season kicks off next month. That's if he's even still with the club by then. Oh, and kudos to Canadian-born Owen Hargreaves, for my money the best player England had in Germany.
Tuesday, July 4:
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! to our American friends!!! Have a great "4th!"
It's truly the end of an era in Motown with Steve Yzerman retiring after 22 seasons with the Red Wings. Those of us Detroit fans from an earlier era remember Al Kaline calling it quits with the same lump in our throats. I first met "Stevie Y" as a radio reporter in Ottawa when he was playing Tier II hockey with the Nepean Raiders. As a young teenager, he exhibited the same class, talent, leadership abilities and quiet determination that he displayed in the NHL. But man, his retirement makes me feel like an ancient mariner. When Yzerman was drafted by Detroit, I was getting married. At his first NHL training camp, Brian Mulroney was winning his first election as prime minister and Ronald Reagan was in the White House. And the Detroit Tigers were still a year away from winning the '84 World Series. Of course, the Detroit Lions were still the Detroit Lions, so not everything was different. Have a happy retirement, #19!
Wednesday, July 5:
It took them right to the last minute, but the Azzurri are through to the World Cup final, beating host Germany with two extremely late goals in extra time. A bittersweet day for many here in the 'hood -- about two-thirds of which is Italian and a quarter of which is German. (The rest are us WASP-ish Canadian-born folk, who couldn't have picked a better neighbourhood to live in). This is not your grandfather's Italian national team. These guys play to win, as opposed to play not to lose. Germany stretched them in the second half, but I think Italy was the better side in extra time. Portugal vs. France today could be just as intriguing.
Voices: Maybe it's the radio guy in me, but I'm fascinated with them, and there are some I never get tired of hearing. Holly Hunter, Academy Award winner, was never on Hollywood's A-list, but I could listen to hear her sweet southern accent forever. She should have two Oscars, after her knockout work in "Broadcast News." The late Brook Benton is my favourite male singer, partly because my fractured singing range fits inside his, and I can butcher his great tunes after one-too-many-beers on Karaoke night. That's not what killed him, but he might have died on the spot if he ever heard me screw up "It's Just a Matter of Time." Benton's voice reminds me of the old Col. Potter line on M*A*S*H: "Not enough "o's" in smooth." I know of a Detroit fella who once saw Aretha Franklin sing gospel music in a church there. Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine. The Queen of Soul tops my list of favourite female singers. I love playing her version of "Eleanor Rigby" to folks who have never heard it, and then seeing the expression on their faces. I can't get enough of Jackie Wilson's soaring vocals -- so powerful and so smooth at the same time. Great range and he was equally adept at belters like "Baby Workout" and heartfelt tunes such as "Doggin' Around." I've loved Jodie Foster's deep female voice since I first saw her as a kid on TV's Paper Moon in 1974. And what a sensational actor! Two Oscars and I think she was robbed of another after her performance in "Taxi Driver." And I've mentioned this lady elsewhere in these blog pages, but I'm haunted, absolutely haunted, by Beverly Bivens' singing voice. To her fans, her brief time in the mid-60's with We Five was the ultimate big tease: two dozen tracks and then Sayonara! By turning her back on stardom for mostly experimental music with her husband in (love the initials) Light, Sound, Dimension (to say nothing of raising a family) she left us forever thirsting for more. Good for her, of course -- her freedom, her choice, and that's what our society is all about. But I'm a selfish cat -- how I wish there was a) more of Bivens' material and b) more reliable information about this talented singer's post-'60's life.
Tres cool II... Driving up to Newmarket yesterday evening, I heard BTO's "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet" on CKOC 1150, and two minutes later on 1050 CHUM. Driving back, it was "The Game of Love" by Wayne Fontana & The Mindbenders, but in reverse: On 1050 first, then 1150 minutes later. And it's also tres cool to be driving around at 9:30 at night, in the middle of the long dusk that late June and early July provide 'round these parts. I missed that growing up as southwestern Ontario and Michigan remained on Eastern Standard Time in the 1960's.
Thursday, July 6:
I guess I'm cheering for Italy Sunday, but it's not a very strong endorsement despite my admiration of their newfound "go-for-it" style. I cheered for Portugal yesterday, Germany Tuesday, England last Saturday, and so on. Frankly, Italy vs. France features the last two teams I wanted to see in the World Cup championship. The current (and shocking) controversy in Italian soccer right now has left me cold and I honestly don't know any natives of France (Quebec, plenty; France, none), so there's no one for me to feel happy for if they win. Maybe both teams will wear primary blue shirts, get horribly confused, play 120 minutes of scoreless soccer and miss every ensuing penalty kick until the last fan in the stands nods off in boredom. Just kidding. I hope it's a great final, but when it comes to which side I want to see win, I'm truly a "fan without portfolio" in this one.
Friday, July 7:
Time to vent: I see that CFL commissioner Tom Wright is stepping down, knowing that he would not get the required support from the league owners to stay on the job. How this league continues to operate with the clowns they have on the board of directors is 'way beyond me. Bozo the Clown might as well be the next commish for all the togetherness these cats display. No one in their right mind is going to want the job, and who can blame them?
Then there are the dopes at ChampCar racing who have iron-fisted a new rule, insisting that the famous pre-race command will now and forevermore be: "Drivers, start your engines!" "Gentlemen" won't work, you see, because there is a female driver (and a good one, Katherine Legge) in the series. Well, the IRL also has a female driver, and they manage to maintain tradition by announcing, "Lady and gentlemen, start your engines!" I can guarantee you Legge and Danica Patrick don't give a pig's posterior what they announce before the race. But the ChampCar PC brigade took it upon itself to create a controversy where none existed. Idiots, the lot of them.
The Toronto Blue Jays weren't going to hit lights-out all season, and now those pitching injuries (and minor-league defence) are starting to take their toll. The Jays can't afford to fall too far behind the division-leading Boston Red Sox, because it's looking more and more as if the wild-card team will come out of the AL Central, the way Detroit and Chicago are tearing up the pea patch.
Saturday, July 8
I can’t remember who came up with this CFL suggestion but I think it’s bang-on: If a punt hits the turf, then the no-yards rule should not apply. On the fly, fine. But I don’t know how many times I’ve seen a punt take a backwards bounce into onrushing defenders, only to have them nailed for a penalty as they frantically try and give way to the receiving team. It’s especially true on windy days when a punt can hang up there like a sky-high infield fly. Doesn’t seem fair to me, but then this is the league that rewards blown field goals with a single point.
Sunday, July 9:
Usually, my local watering hole-slash-eatery is generally winding down by 12:40 on a Sunday morning. Yes, bars are open until 2, but in this sleepy burg, it's not uncommon to see the last person depart by 1am or shortly thereafter -- something that will no doubt change as the size of the town explodes. Oddly enough, when we moved here, the town had a lively bar scene. Of course, we were all nine years younger. At any rate, this morning at 12:40, there wasn't an empty seat to be had inside. Not a problem -- it was perfect night for pizza and beer on the outdoor patio. But the reason for the wall-to-wall humanity inside ? The Ultimate Fighting Championship was being shown on closed-circuit TV. Now, the UFC is not something that's well-known to my aging generation, and the temptation was there to dismiss it as just another "fad" event. But wait a minute. A few generations ago, basketball was a "fad" sport, while the "big-time" events included track and rowing regattas. My generation let those die. Who are we to say what's legit and what's not? Same with the "X Games." Extreme sports has grown as humans evolve into a stronger, faster species, tackling dangerous challenges that we wouldn't dare take on when we were young. Eventually, the current teens and 20-somethings will be the ones dictating what buys and what sells. The decision as to what sports are mainstream will be theirs, just as it was ours a few decades ago.
I was about to vent about the bumper-to-bumper northbound expressway traffic jam I encountered leaving downtown Toronto at 12:10 in the morning. No city worth its transportation salt should ever have traffic jams at that hour. But the culprit was soon to be revealed. A police cruiser, with its lights flashing, was parked on the shoulder of the southbound lanes. And all the northbounders were rubbernecking, looking to see what wonders could be spotted by the pretty flashing red lights. Idiotic chowderheads.
Prediction: Italy 2, France 1. Just for the party Toronto will throw, to say nothing of right here in Stouffville.
Monday, July 10
All I could think of was the late Jack Buck's call of Kirk Gibson's pinch-hit, walk-off home run in game one of the 1988 World Series: "I don't believe what I just saw!" That was exactly my reaction when French star and captain Zinedine Zidane ended an outstanding career on the most astonishing note possible -- taking a completely-deserved red card for headbutting Italian defender Marco Materazzi right in the chest during extra time in the World Cup final. What in thunder could he have been thinking? France wasn't down a man for long, but they could have used him in the deciding penalty kick competition that followed, as Italy prevailed 5-3 following the 1-1 draw through 120 minutes. What could have possibly provoked Zidane to the point of throwing everything away in the final minutes of a stellar career and costing your teammates dearly on the sport's biggest stage? Completely unbelievable.
Wednesday, July 12:
A lot of folks hate the fact that the winning league in major league baseball's annual all-star game gets a potential extra home game for its champion in the World Series. After all, the National League never enjoyed that perk when it was winning about 10-zillion all-star games in a row in the '60's and '70's. But the all-star game was getting away from serious play (like Pete Rose's demolition of Ray Fosse at the plate to end the 1970 midsummer classic) and getting more like all-star games in other sports -- no more than a chummy exhibition of fun and laughter. The last straw for commissioner Bud Selig was that 7-7 tie in his hometown of Milwaukee a few years ago, when they ran out of pitchers. So he took a step to restore some competitiveness and the result was a dandy game like last night's. The National League scored the go-ahead run on traditional National League-style baseball -- a stolen base and an ensuing run on a wild pitch. And the NL came within a strike of making it stand up until the American League staged its ninth-inning rally. Good game, and it's why baseball's is the only all-star game I'll watch.
Howled with laughter when I heard a radio ad trumpeting Hogtown and its new slogan: "Toronto - unlimited potential." How true, and it will always be simply that, with the current band of bozos running the show. The latest brainstorm from one council nitwit is a plan to charge two dollars more for admission to the Toronto Zoo for people who live outside the city's borders. Unbelievable! How do some of these folks manage to tie their shoes in the morning let alone anything else that requires a minimum of brain cells?
Two nights in a row now past midnight, highway 404 north of Steeles Ave. has been squeezed down to a single lane by construction, leading to lengthy delays. Fine. Mind you, no one gets off at Steeles because you can't see the construction until you go around the curve. But the province of Ontario spent taxpayers' money for electronic signs to advise motorists of just such bottlenecks. That includes one on the DVP, just a few kilometres south. But it makes no mention of the construction up ahead, instead warning of lane closures on another highway, the 401. Are the people in charge related to Toronto councillors?
Friday, July 14
Ferhellsake, they did it again! Boston Pizza, Markham was closed at 12:30 am this morning despite advertising that it's open 'til 1am. And it's not as if the staff was sitting there watching spiders spin webs. There were seven or eight people inside when I got there. On the advice of the day manager, (whom I complained to the last time this happened, and who insisted it would not happen again), I kept knocking until they let me in. I don't think I'm being unreasonable here. I was there half an hour before closing time at a restaurant chain that specifically advertises that it is "open late." But fool me twice, shame on me. I'll take my business elsewhere from here on in.
Just 22 more wins and the Detroit Tigers have their first winning season in 13 years. Most Tiger fans are setting their sights on goals much higher, but anything above and beyond that is gravy to me. On Wednesday, a guy stops me at the gas bar and says, "Nice cap." (I was wearing the classic Olde English 'D' at the time). I said that it's been years since I was proud to wear it, and we got into a great discussion about the wealth in the Tiger farm system and how the parent club should be competitive for years.
Saturday, July 15:
I should buy a lottery ticket, 'cause I was a very lucky fella yesterday. I was having trouble keeping air in one of the Goodyear tires that I bought a little over a year ago (naturally, with the warranty now expired). So I took it to my mechanic and ten minutes later, he hauled me into the shop saying, "I want to show you something." Along the sidewall was a long crack about eight inches in length followed by another, about five inches long. He said that within another hundred kilometres, the tire would have exploded and I would have been sailing off into the trees. I asked him what could have caused that, and he said it was a defect in the tire and that he wasn't much of a fan of Goodyear. Thankfully he had a pair of new Tiger Paws for me to buy and I've ordered a second set to match them.
Wednesday, July 19
I'm usually willing to cut J.P. Ricciardi some slack. As general manager of the Toronto Blue Jays, he's in an unenviable position with his club in the American League East. Only a maximum of two teams from a single division can ever reach the post-season, and the Yankees and Red Sox have -- by far -- the largest payrolls in baseball. So we're in year five of Ricciardi's five-year plan, and the current Jays have the best club in his era. But unless either Detroit or Chicago stages a complete collapse, then the wild-card winner is going to come out of the Central Division this year. That, plus injuries, can get under a man's skin, but Ricciardi boo-boo'd when he publicly ripped his team a week ago in Kansas City. George Steinbrenner can get away with it 'cause he signs the paycheques. But Ricciardi built this team. He's the one who ignored the old "build-up-the-middle" blueprint. Sorry, but any combination of McDonald-Adams-Hill ain't Tinker/Evers or even Trammell/Whitaker. Yes, the Detroit Tigers once won a World Series with a starting shortstop who batted .135 (although Ray Oyler was relegated to the bench in the fall classic in one of the great managerial gambles of all time). But 1968 was the year of the pitcher, when a 3.50 earned-run-average would earn you nothing more than scorn and disdain. Ricciardi must surely know that team chemistry counts for plenty in this day and age, and he should have kept his lid buttoned.
The one knock on Detroit is that they've faltered against key opponents this season, with losing records against the Yankees, Red Sox, and especially the White Sox. Chicago whipped 'em 7-1 last night, and the Tigers still have just one win this season against their biggest rivals for the division crown. That sort of thing can weigh on a team after awhile, kind of like the mental barrier the Mets had with Atlanta for so many years.
Prediction: The Toronto Maple Leafs will be better (and maybe much better) this upcoming season. I really like the signing of Mike Peca.
Thursday, July 20:
Garth Snow? Garth Snow?? You've gotta be kidding me! The sideshow has returned to Long Island. Who in their right mind would turn a back-up goalie into an NHL general manager -- with no administrative experience on his resume -- overnight? Charles Wang, owner of the New York Islanders, that's who. This is a fella who, according to a New York Post article, once floated the idea of putting a sumo wrestler in goal. Now, Snow's no dummy and one day he may make a fine GM, but he should have some seasoning first -- lots of it. Maybe the most humane thing Wang did was fire Neil Smith, who had the GM's job for roughly five seconds. All Smith wanted to do was hire his own coach, which should be every general manager's right. Once the shock wears off, I'll bet Smith will be thanking his lucky stars he's not part of the circus. As for the head coach, I'm glad Ted Nolan is back in the NHL, but his spidey-sense should be tingling off the charts.
Saturday, July 22
I haven't been inside a major league baseball clubhouse in years, so I have no idea if Shea Hillenbrand was a "cancer" in the room, as one unnamed Toronto Blue Jay has suggested. And I generally don't think baseball managers should be busting into a players-only meetings unless there's a helluva reason. But maybe John Gibbons' reason was that the last straw had been snapped. It seems very Billy Martin-ish for Gibbons to have challenged Hillenbrand to a fistfight right then and there. And I was around in the days when Bobby Cox verbally tore into Cliff Johnson (although not in the room at that exact time). I'm no longer in the sports media, and as a fan, I like Gibbons. His players seem to play for him, and I think that's a huge part of a skipper's day-to-day job. Look at Detroit. Last year, Alan Trammell lost the room. This year, the Tigers are jumping through glass windows for Jim Leyland. The Jays have responded to this incident with two very important wins over the Yankees. Maybe this will bring everyone closer together. Gibbons has to hope so.
Monday, July 24:
Got into a debate that raised my hackles a tad the other day. The subject was cars, and how evil they are and how they destroy the environment, and how Toronto ought to tar and feather every pilgrim who dares enter its exalted kingdom by way of an automobile. It was the typical I've-heard-it-all-before froth until my adversary tossed out this oft-repeated gem: "Adding new lanes just means more cars on the road." What?! Yeah, you bet. Once another lane is completed on the 404, I'll just saunter on down to the local dealership and buy me a Mustang. Of course, I can't drive two cars at once, so I'll just give it away to some lucky oaf, and he can drive it, adding the required "more cars" on the road. Yes, cars are far from perfect. Yes, there are many times I agree with Jerry Reed, who wrote "Lord, Mr. Ford, what have you done?" But Toronto politicians have never provided me with a legitimate alternative in the way of decent public transit. My time on earth is the most valuable thing I own, and as long as transit takes me one-and-a-half to two times as long to commute (when it's even available out here), the car is it.
Tuesday, July 25
The amazing Detroit Tigers would have to go 13-50 the rest of the way to record a 13th straight losing season. The "where'd these guys come from?" team of 2006 now have a seven-and-a-half game lead on the Chicago White Sox in the American League Central. Pretty soon, it may not be the Sox they'll be worrying about -- it will be the Minnesota Twins, who have won an astounding 32 of their last 40 and are now within two games of the Pale Hose. After work today, I'll be zipping "around the horn" to Cleveland to catch the Tigers and Indians in Wednesday's noon-hour matinee at the Jake. (Of course, a side trip to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is a must). I should have pictures posted from that game sometime Thursday afternoon or evening after I get home.
Friday, July 28:
I promised the guys at work during a rather crazy Tuesday afternoon that in 24 hours, I'd be sitting at The Jake, beer in hand, watching the Tigers and Indians do battle on a glorious summer's day in Cleveland. Since they all had to be back in the office Wednesday, I can't print their pointed replies. But I carried out my end of the bargain. It was a glorious day for a ballgame, but I was astounded at the smallish crowd. The Indians are having an off year, but there were only about 30-thousand at the game. That's despite the fact there were thousands of day camp kids in attendance, and that the Indians were playing the top team in the majors and a geographical rival to boot. Lots of folks from Michigan were in attendance, so maybe the answer is that mid-week day baseball just doesn't work in Cleveland. They said it was the largest mid-week matinee crowd, aside from holidays or opening day, in Jacobs Field history. Makes sense, I guess. Cleveland's a blue collar town, and people just can't take off for an afternoon like they seem to be able to do in Toronto and other cities.
Watching the Tigers, you're struck by the lack of star power they have. No one's having a monster season, yet everyone seems to contribute every day, and each game a new hero emerges. But they sure have some young, live arms on the mound and everything seems to be coming together at once.
Made the annual pilgrimage to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. A great Bob Dylan exhibit is the main summer attraction this year. I never grow tired of the place, and it's hard not to walk out of the gift shop with one of everything.
Monday, July 31
Whew! Now where were we before that nasty computer virus hit? I'm pretty vigilant about making sure my sweeps and anti-virus software programs are up to date, but this "Backdoor.Haxdoor.O" snuck in through a crack. Thanks to the good folks at Symantec (for a price, of course) we're back up and running with no damage.
The hockey world lost a true gentleman last week when Bill Long passed away. I got to know Bill quite well as a reporter in the late 1970's when he was coaching some excellent junior clubs in London. And the 1977, eight-game conference final between London and St. Catharines might still be the most thrilling hockey series I've ever seen, ending, as it did, with an overtime goal in game eight (total points in those days -- no O/T until an eighth game). London was the "clean" team then, but not always. When Howard Darwin (who owned both the Knights and Ottawa 67's) sent Long from Ottawa in 1972, London had a goon squad that would have put the Hansens to shame. Bill was as good a guy as he was a coach, and he was aces high in both categories. Our deepest condolences to Dorothy and the family.
When I pulled into my driveway yesterday from work, the Blue Jays were an out away from gaining a split in their four-game series at Oakland. Assured that things were well in hand, I walked inside and missed the Milton Bradley three-run homer that sent Toronto on its most recent gut-wrenching loss.
