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Archive for the category “Sports”

Pitching Into the Crazy Calgary Wind

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Michael Lewis, Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game (2003)

As this is a book about baseball — or perhaps I should say a book about exploiting inefficiencies in the market that takes place in the world of baseball — there are a number of passing references to Canada, and particularly to the Toronto Blue Jays, that aren’t of much interest. But this passage, about the pitcher Chad Bradford, seems worth noting, at least for the way it ties in to other ideas about Canada we’ve come across:

In late June, the Chicago White Sox promoted Chad from Double-A to its Triple-A team in Calgary. When he arrived, he found out why: his new home field was high in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, wind blowing out. The place was famously hellish on pitching careers: the guy he’d come to replace had simply quit and skipped town…. What should have been ordinary fly balls rocketed through the thin mountain air every which way out of the park.  (230)

The way the thin air and wild mountain wind turn ordinary fly balls into home runs suggests the natural elements of Canada have a power unexpected by the American author and the American pitcher he’s writing about. Again we glimpse the (typically American) notion that Canada is a wilderness nation, where civilization has done less to tame the natural world than it has in the U.S.

(Fact break: Calgary is actually the third-largest city in Canada, though you wouldn’t think so from reading this; it sounds like a collection of shacks precariously perched on the edge of a mountain, trembling at every gust and waiting to be swept away by the next strong wind.)

There are sports fields in the U.S. where wind and thinner air are factors that can influence the outcome of plays, and occasionally even the outcome of games (the Denver Broncos stadium is maybe the most obvious example). But when these conditions arise in the U.S., they tend to be treated as something players have to deal with; in the case of this Calgary ballpark, the natural elements are made to seem like forces too powerful to be overcome. There is a sense that in Canada, human agency is too weak to counteract nature (though Bradford does figure out a way to pitch successfully in Calgary). We could almost see a kind of geographical or climatic determinism at work here: cities in the U.S. are what people have made them, but cities in Canada remain at the mercy of nature, which surrounds them and impinges upon them basically at will.

On the plus side, it’s sort of flattering to think that Chicago’s Triple-A club is based in Canada.

That Little Development League to the North

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David Waldstein, “As N.F.L. Prepares for Longer Extra Points, C.F.L. Offers a Preview” (NY Times, August 16, 2015)

The title above is the actual headline of the article, but if you look at the photo you’ll see the teaser that appeared at the top of the front page of the Sports section: “Long extra points make Canada’s league a laboratory for the N.F.L.”

Having read that, it’s not even necessary to read the article; everything you need to know about the American attitude to Canada is already expressed that one word, “laboratory.”  This is a classic instance of the way Americans see Canada, and anything that happens here, not as significant in its own right, but only insofar as it could have an impact on the U.S. Canada is visible only through an American lens: the CFL, in the view of the august New York Times, is not an independent national league with its own long football tradition (the league was founded in 1958, but the first Grey Cup was awarded in 1909); it’s nothing more than a development league, a “laboratory” where rules experiments can be tested in a consequence-free environment before they’re incorporated into the NFL, where the games, and therefore the rules by which they are played, really matter.

The attitude continues in the article:

The National Football League will also introduce longer extra points this season, and with its two-month head start, the C.F.L. has become a test laboratory for the new extra-point rule, which will add more uncertainty to games, and perhaps more excitement.   (S6)

The phraseology is a little more gentle there, making the CFL’s status as a laboratory sound more like an accident of chronology than an essential aspect of its nature, but the idea persists.

And later in the article we get this:

Higgins, Daniel and Bede all said that the kickers in the N.F.L. were generally superior to their C.F.L. colleagues….   (S6)

So even the key CFL figures who are quoted in the article (Alouettes coach Tom Higgins, CFL statistician Steve Daniel, and Alouettes kicker Boris Bede) admit that the CFL is inferior to the NFL. (I’m not saying this isn’t the case, of course, only that it’s another element of the paternalistic view of Canada expressed in the article.)

All this shows that football is yet another arena in which Americans tend to look down on Canadians and see us as their adorable, bumbling little cousins, not up to the high professional standards set by leagues and athletes in the U.S., but still trying our best to keep up, and occasionally useful when we allow Americans a glimpse of how rules changes might work out in their own league — though needless to say (except that, of course, they do say it), the much higher skill level of NFL players makes the comparison a bit tenuous.

A Narrow Escape from Toronto

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Nicholas Dawidoff, Collision Low Crossers (2011)

Having grown up in Toronto following the Maple Leafs, I feel a certain affinity for the New York Jets, or perhaps for their fans. The Jets are the Leafs of the NFL: a team separated from past glory by an increasingly lengthy (and seemingly interminable) period spent thrashing around in search of a path to excellence – this thrashing consisting mainly of continually hiring and then firing a parade of coaches and general managers who are heralded as saviours when they arrive and derided as incompetent losers when they depart (often to success elsewhere) – while the team occasionally shows glimmers of something approaching competence for a season or two, only to sink sighing back into the muck of mediocrity (or worse).

So I was curious about Dawidoff’s book, which chronicles a year spent “embedded,” so to speak, with the Jets organization. And what a year he chose: the 2011 season, when, after consecutive trips to the AFC Championship Game and a general acknowledgement among football’s serious heads that they were legitimate Super Bowl contenders, the Jets publicly and spectacularly collapsed back into their accustomed incompetence, with accusations, recriminations and vituperations all around.

Pond Hockey in the Cosmopolis

The early chapters set the stage for what is to come, introducing the coaches and players. And it turns out that Jets coach Rex Ryan (and his twin brother Rob) have a Canadian connection. This passage deals with the period in their childhood after their parents, Doris and Buddy (the legendary Bears defensive coordinator) divorced:

Leaving the twins with her mother in Ardmore, Doris went to the University of Chicago’s school of social sciences and got a doctorate in education. She took a job at the University of Toronto, and that’s mainly where Rex and Rob Ryan grew up. Ryan believes his parents’ divorce didn’t affect him much because he was cushioned by his friendship with his twin, but it’s true that he and Rob got into a little more trouble than most boys. Doris was concerned enough about them as teenagers that she sent them to live with Buddy in Minnesota, which Rob later decided probably saved their lives.  (53-54)

And then, a couple of paragraphs later, this:

There weren’t many college options for indifferent high-school students who wanted to play defensive line and weighed a hundred and ninety pounds. Buddy knew the coach at Southwestern Oklahoma State, in Weatherford, and so the twins were admitted to the school and off they went, a nine-hundred-mile drive. The land around Weatherford was flat and dusty, the tumbleweeds as high as a linebacker’s eye, and from a sixth-floor dorm-room window, the horizon was so long and uninflected the brothers had the feeling they could just about see Chicago. Coming from a childhood mostly spent in vibrant, cosmopolitan cities, the Ryans were horrified – and lonely.  (54-55)

It’s certainly plausible that there were other cities along the way, but given that the Ryan twins “mainly…grew up” in Toronto, it’s indisputable that Toronto must be one of the “vibrant, cosmopolitan cities” being referred to here. We’ve seen this pattern before, and here it is again: another reference to Toronto’s “cosmopolitanism,” and again the reference comes from an American (it’s hard to imagine a Parisian, for example, calling Toronto “cosmopolitan”) and is made in the context of football.

Toronto’s cosmopolitan identity is (again) slightly undermined by the fact that it is being compared to Weatherford, Oklahoma, which, based on the description Dawidoff gives, must be one of the least cosmopolitan places on earth. (Isn’t the use of the word “uninflected” to describe the horizon lovely, though?)

And what are we to make of the idea that being sent away from Toronto saved the lives of the Ryan twins?  Details are not forthcoming, beyond the bare statement that they were getting into trouble, but this seems to hint at a side of Toronto that we don’t normally see. Americans tend to regard Canada as a relatively safe, peaceful place when compared to the U.S., with far less danger, particularly in major urban centres; but here Dawidoff suggests that Rob and Rex had found the dangerous side of Toronto, and needed to be saved from it. So in this telling Canada has an element of unspecified menace, in contrast to its usual, squeaky-clean image.

Much later in the book, we discover that his time in Toronto has left at least some impression on Ryan:

I was cold at the walk-through, so I wore a green ski hat. “Nicky!” said Ryan. “That hat! That’s the kind of hat we used to wear to play pond hockey in Toronto.” I was instructed to lose the hat and “put a hood on!”  (366)

The association of Canada with cold weather and hockey is obvious and doesn’t really bear remarking on, beyond the fact that Ryan mentions exactly the things about Canada that any American would expect. But pond hockey in Toronto? That’s a bit of an odd one, as Toronto has plenty of outdoor rinks, but isn’t exactly rich in ponds. Grenadier Pond, perhaps? True pond hockey would fit more with rural Saskatchewan than Canada’s largest city. Perhaps Toronto was different when Ryan lived here? Or perhaps, despite the fact that his mother worked at the university (which is right in the city’s pond-free downtown), the family lived out in a thinly developed suburb?

I’d rather consider a more intriguing possibility. Perhaps Ryan played hockey on outdoor city rinks, not ponds, but when he refers to his Toronto upbringing among Americans, he romanticizes (or ruralizes?) it to fit more neatly with what Americans think of Canada: namely, that it is a thinly populated wasteland, where the monotonous tundra is only occasionally punctuated by a cluster of igloos and a frozen pond where a few children are whacking a rock around with sticks.

The Importance of Nicknames

During the description of training camp, we get the following:

So much that went on in August was about achieving group closeness. Because Garrett McIntyre had played in Canada after his college career at Fresno State, people at first thought he was Canadian and that his name was McIntosh. Even when his biography was clarified, he continued to be known in the defensive room as O Canada, just as Matthias Berning, who really was from Duisburg, was called the German. Gradually it became clear that McIntyre had, as they said, “the good awareness,” and he was also tough and physical. As he proved himself to be one of them, O Canada fell away and he became Mac. Berning, not quite as good a player, remained a foreign element, the German.  (223-4)

There’s certainly a lot to “unpack,” as they say, in that passage.

The essential narrative movement, if you will, of the paragraph is quite straightforward: a player is given a nickname that is completely inappropriate for him, but the other players don’t care until he earns their respect, at which point his nickname changes to something more fitting.

Canada plays its small role in the drama. For starters, we can note that American football players are at least familiar with the title of our national anthem. And the changing of his name to “McIntosh” is intriguing, though unexplained – does this have something to do with apples?

More importantly, though, the “success” element of the story, from McIntyre’s perspective, is that he is finally able to shake the nickname that associates him with a country that is not his own. The means by which he accomplishes this are also of note: he shows football awareness and, more importantly perhaps, proves that he’s tough. Though it’s never explicitly stated, there seems to be the undercurrent of an idea that toughness and physicality are not typical Canadian traits. By proving himself and morphing from O Canada into Mac, McIntyre shakes his association with the gentle, pacifist nation to the North and reclaims his martial, macho Americanism.

So at least his story – unlike that of the Jets’ 2011 season – has a happy ending.

Canada, A Land of Two Seasons

 

AP Photo/Times-Dispatch, Lindy Keast Rodman

AP Photo/Times-Dispatch, Lindy Keast Rodman

Gregg Easterbrook, Tuesday Morning Quarterback (September 30, 2014)

What is it with Gregg Easterbrook and Canada? Even in full romantic flight, as he rhapsodizes about his favourite season (autumn) in his column, he can’t resist taking a little shot at us:

In Praise Of Sweaters: October begins tomorrow, and with it the full glory of autumn. Your columnist’s favorite season is autumn — leaves are turning, the weather is changing (I like cool weather), football is being played, the wonderful Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas holiday sequence is in prospect, and everyone looks better in sweaters.

In Hawaii, there are no seasons. In some cold places such as Canada, there are two seasons: frozen and construction. In four-seasons areas, like where I live, we get one fall day for every two non-fall days, so I spend two-thirds of the year waiting for the full glory of autumn. It’s finally here.

“Cold places such as Canada”? Really? I’m a bit stunned to find myself pointing out that, in much of Canada, it ‘s actually not cold all the time.

Here in Southern Ontario we get four quite distinct seasons, thank you very much; spring does turn into summer rather quickly, and winter can be a little long, but fall is just as glorious as it is anywhere in the northeastern U.S., and I can say from experience that summer in central Illinois isn’t markedly hotter than it is here.

So Easterbrook’s joke doesn’t reveal anything factual about Canada; it does, however, reveal the weird persistence (among Americans) of the idea that stepping across the border into Canada involves passing instantly from a temperate climate into an inhospitable wasteland of perpetual winter.

Just a friendly reminder: the border between Canada and the U.S. is composed mainly of air – there’s really no difference between the climate of, say, Southern Ontario and that of Upstate New York.

So if you’re coming in July or August, it’s safe to leave the parkas at home.

A Mathematical Aside

And incidentally, if you live in a “four-seasons area” (as many Canadians do), wouldn’t you get one fall day for every three non-fall days, not every two? That is, for every one fall day, there would be one winter day, one spring day, and one summer day, leading to a ratio of 3:1 non-fall to fall days, not 2:1 as Easterbrook says.

Easterbrook Shows Toronto Some Love

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Gregg Easterbrook, Tuesday Morning Quarterback (August 19, 2014)

I’ve already whined extensively in this space about Gregg Easterbrook’s rather stereotypical references to Canada (doughnuts and health careadvancing (not receding!) glaciers, and our generally squeaky-clean image), so it seems only fair to pick up on it when he actually says something complimentary.

The following passage is from his AFC Preview column, where he discusses the possible relocation of the Buffalo Bills to either Toronto or Los Angeles:

Toronto, North America’s fourth-largest city, is a cosmopolitan boom town with every major sport except the NFL. Doesn’t it make sense to relocate the Bills?

“Cosmopolitan boom town” – I like the sound of that. It’s especially gratifying to see the word “cosmopolitan” applied to Toronto, since we who live here are much more accustomed to hearing how Montreal is so sophisticated and cosmopolitan, while Toronto is essentially a hick town with tall buildings.

Of course, there are caveats: this quote is from a football column (though one written by a serious journalist), and so its views on cosmopolitanism should perhaps be taken with a grain of salt. As well, it’s important to remember that Toronto is being described as a “cosmopolitan boom town” in comparison to Buffalo – which drains much of the power from the compliment, though it also reminds us that, to our neighbours to the south, our cities can look like remarkable success stories.

Perhaps Toronto’s perceived cosmopolitanism exists only in relation to collapsing American cities; within Canada, we’re still running a distant second to Montreal. Still, it’s nice to know that we can appear cosmopolitan, even if you have to go to Buffalo to see it. We’ll take what we can get.

 

Easterbrook and King Both Speak Canadian!

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Gregg Easterbrook, “Tuesday Morning Quarterback” (Jan. 22, 2014)

The Super Bowl is almost here, which means that soon I’ll no longer have the help of football writers to pad out these columns – so I might as well take advantage of them while I can. Gregg Easterbrook seems to have a thing for Canada – he can’t stop mentioning us – and here he goes again, in his TMQ column following the conference championship games:

Denver’s other touchdown came on a really pretty goal line zed-in to Demaryius Thomas – the zed-in is the Canadian version of a z-in.

Well, that’s interesting. Based on a Google search, it seems this play (see the diagram at the top) is commonly referred to as a “z-in” not a “zed-in” (under the name “22 Z In”, it was a staple of Bill Walsh’s West Coast offence when he was in San Francisco). So why does Easterbrook go out of his way to type it out as a “zed-in”?

That’s how we would pronounce “z-in” in Canada, of course, as opposed to “zee-in,” which one would think would be the standard U.S. pronunciation. Is Easterbrook trying to make his Canadian readers feel at home? That seems unlikely, given his history of glacier references. He is originally from Buffalo, which is close to the Canadian border – perhaps, through some sort of linguistic influence by proximity, the play is pronounced “zed-in” up there rather than the more typically American “zee-in”?

Or is Easterbrook just seizing the opportunity to take another dig at one of his favourite targets – Canadians?

Peter King, “Monday Morning Quarterback” (Jan. 21, 2014)

By an odd coincidence, Peter King’s MMQB column touches on related subject matter. While in Denver covering the AFC championship, he attended a hockey game (hockey – this column just oozes Canada!) between the Devils and the Avalanche:

b. Of course, one of the highlights during the game was noticing the back of No. 24 for the Avalanche: CLICHE. A forward. Marc-Andre Cliche, from Quebec. So, brilliant me, I’m at the game with our Robert Klemko, and Cliche goes into the penalty box, and I say, “Cliché in the sin bin! How perfect is that?!”

c. But the dream soon died. The PA announcer, calling out the penalty, pronounced the last name “Cleesh.” Bummer.

That question mark/exclamation mark combo is exactly the way it appears in King’s column; apparently hockey is so exciting it makes him toss punctuation around like a drunk 13-year-old on Twitter.

As for the name, I thought “Cleesh” might just be the American PA announcer’s mispronunciation, but a quick Google search doesn’t turn up any instances with an accent on the “e” (though, curiously, “Andre” sometimes has an accent and sometimes doesn’t). Perhaps the family got tired of the jokes  and dropped the accent – the opposite of the famous case of Egbert Sousé.

I’m not sure these two references tell us anything new about perceptions of Canada, but they do offer further confirmation that American sportswriters have an idea that their neighbours to the North speak strangely (“aboot” etc.), and that this is an appropriate subject for jokes at our expense.

In a related note, the Montreal Canadiens are now putting accent marks on players’ names on the backs of their jerseys. If only Colorado would follow suit, Peter King would have one less thing to be confused about.

It’s Glacier Season in Canada!

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Gregg Easterbrook, “Tuesday Morning Quarterback” (Nov. 26, 2013)

As you may have guessed if you visit this space occasionally, I read a fair bit (too much) about football during the NFL season. Every week I tell myself that I won’t write about football columnists here, and then every week I read something that is too good to resist.

Next week I’m definitely going to write about something literary. But I just can’t let this, from Gregg Easterbrook’s latest Tuesday Morning Quarterback column, slip by. He’s talking about the Saskatchewan Roughriders and their victory in the Grey Cup:

Underdog Hamilton trailing host Saskatchewan 24-3 in the second quarter of the Grey Cup — Canada plays its title game in November, before glaciers cover the fields — the Tiger-Cats faced third-and-goal, the CFL equivalent of fourth-and-goal, on the Rough Riders’ 3.

He hasn’t noticed that Roughriders is one word – a discussion we’ve had before – but at least he’s conversant in the basics of three-down versus four-down football.

But glaciers? Really? Have we come no further than that? Do Americans still have so little notion of what Canada is actually like that mainstream columnists can get away with jokes about glaciers advancing across our country every December? And this from a writer who believes in global warming and so must be aware that glaciers are actually retreating, not advancing.

Yes, America, it’s true – glaciers cover Canada every winter. But just like Canadians themselves, Canadian glaciers are so polite that they stop 1.6093 km (one mile, for your convenience) away from the US border so that you won’t be bothered by the massive sheet of ice that covers our northern land for four months every year.

I like Gregg Easterbrook’s column – I don’t always agree with him, and I could do without the sci-fi references, but overall I think he’s an intelligent and insightful writer and a well-educated man. And yet, when it comes to Canada, this well-educated and intelligent American instantly sinks to the lowest cliche available to make a joke at our expense. Really, it’s a bit dispiriting.

I suppose that’s what I get for reading too many football columns.

Fame – or Infamy?

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Brett Michael Dykes, “A New Subplot for Manning vs. Brady” (The New York Times)

As you may or may not know, things have been a little hectic in the city of Toronto lately. Sometimes it’s diverting, and sometimes you just want to forget – for a little while at least – that we’ve become a global laughingstock.

Sunday mornings are one of the latter times for me. If I can find a few minutes of quiet, I like to spend it with the NFL previews in The New York Times. What better way to escape from reality than to retreat into what Gregg Easterbrook so aptly calls “the football alternate universe”? But what greeted  – or should I say affronted? – my eyes this Sunday when I reached the capsule preview for the 2-8 Buccaneers at the 6-4 Lions? The following:

After starting the season 0-8, Tampa Bay has suddenly won two in a row, including a 41-28 thrashing of Atlanta in Week 11. And in the Buccaneers’ last loss, they forced overtime against Seattle, probably the N.F.C.’s best squad. So perhaps the team that looked to be imploding like the N.F.L.’s version of Toronto’s mayor, Rob Ford, has turned a corner.  (Nov. 24, 2013, S2)

Now, this isn’t completely news – in fact, we’ve already noted the presence of Toronto’s mayor in one online football column. But this is different; this is the Grey Lady herself, The New York Times, America’s unofficial paper of record, deigning to notice our little outpost of civilization here amid the frozen wastelands of the North.

And it’s not just a slightly amused, “Look at the crazy stuff going on up in Canada” news article buried somewhere near the back of the front page section. It’s in the Sports section, which is actually more significant than a news article. Being mentioned in the Sports section proves that the Rob Ford scandal has percolated through American public consciousness so completely that even the NFL game previews aren’t complete without a cheap joke at his expense. The NFL itself, apparently, isn’t complete without at least one team representing the league’s version of our mayor.

(The Bucs, history will note, went on the defeat the Lions, despite being 10-point road underdogs. Is this a sign that the mayor is also about to turn things around?)

How long, Toronto – how long have we dreamed of this sort of recognition? I’ve always felt that, as Canadians, we were like a little brother, eager to gain the attention of our big brother (not to say Big Brother) to the South. And now we’ve got it: segments on Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, interviews with Anderson Cooper and Matt Lauer, and finally, a mayor so well known that football writers make jokes about him and just assume everyone will understand.

Why has Rob Ford struck such a chord south of the border? I’ll offer my personal theory: it’s because he’s just like Chris Farley. Numerous American outlets have pointed out the resemblance as part of Rob Ford stories – and not only does Ford look like Farley, he behaves like the sort of character Chris Farley played. Ford resonates with Americans because he conforms perfectly to an archetypal comedic character they’re already familiar with.

That’s just a theory – but whatever the reason, we’re at the top of America’s mind – though it took Rob Ford to get us there. Is this victory, or a kind of defeat?

Scandal in Canada? Impossible!

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Gregg Easterbrook, “Tuesday Morning Quarterback” (November 12, 2013)

Just a brief note on a sentence from Gregg Easterbrook’s most recent Tuesday Morning Quarterback column:

If it’s any consolation, government hanky-panky is international. There is a corruption scandal in Canada, hard as the phrase “Canadian scandal” seems to be to write.

Ha ha ha.

Easterbrook is playing on the impression – general among Americans? – that Canada is simply too nice and polite – or too boring – a country to have a scandal, or at least a scandal that can measure up to the fantastic scandals that the U.S. routinely produces. And, granted, the Senate scandal that Easterbrook links to doesn’t have the salacious fascination of, say, the troubles of Anthony Weiner or Eliot Spitzer.

But hasn’t Easterbrook noticed that Canada is curently in the throes of a scandal that is consuming media attention, not only up here, but around the world? (That last article, incidentally, is typically Canadian in its attitude toward international media attention: we’re horrified that the world is laughing at us, but at the same time, it’s hard not to notice a certain excitement in the catalogue of headlines we’re getting in more glamorous cities like London and New York.)

How far do we have to go to shed our goody-two-shoes image?

Based on his earlier reference to Canada, it’s clear that Easterbrook’s impressions of our country form a fairly small cloud hovering around the idea that we’re boring and excessively nice. So perhaps he just refuses to believe that such things can occur here. Or perhaps he’s too focused on football to pay any attention to Toronto city politics. But in another corner of the football journalism world, we rated a small notice this week:

d. I suppose we shouldn’t laugh at Toronto mayor Rob Ford, but every time I hear the tape of him talking about smoking crack, I can’t help it. Ford: “Have I tried it? Probably in one of my drunken stupors. Probably approximately about a year ago.” And then, basically, apologizing, wanting life to go on as before.

e. Rob? That’s sort of a big deal.

f. Doesn’t Rob Ford look exactly like Chris Farley’s slightly older brother?

Clearly, Canada can produce a captivating scandal after all. The issue isn’t us: Canadians can be just as corrupt and venal as people of any other nationality. And while it’s a banal observation, I’ll make it anyway, just for the record: once impressions about national character take hold in people’s minds, they’re remarkably hard to shake, even in the face of compelling contrary evidence. No matter what we do, a lot of Americans will always think of Canada as that quiet, dull nation to the north, full of people so polite they apologize every time someone steps on their foot.

At least we’re doing what we can to shake that image.

Peace, Health Care and Doughnuts

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Gregg Easterbrook, “Tuesday Morning Quarterback” (October 1, 2013)

Ah, Tim Horton’s: that glowing beacon of Canadian identity.

We’ve already discussed the (aborted) Canadian connection of the TV series “The Bridge”, of course, but in one of those curious instances that proves great minds think alike (or fools seldom differ?), Gregg Easterbrook, in this week’s “Tuesday Morning Quarterback” column, has hit on the same thing:

FX’s “The Bridge” is a remake of a Scandinavian television show about a crime at a bridge between Denmark and Sweden. Before centering the remake on a bridge between Texas and Mexico, producers first proposed using the bridge between Detroit and Windsor, Ontario. A hyper-violent crime drama about U.S.-Canadian relations — there’s no minimum to the potential ratings of that concept. A cross-border tunnel between a Texas ranch and a Mexican cartel’s hideout, used to smuggle heroin, figures in “The Bridge” plot. If the Detroit-Windsor setting had been chosen, it would have been a tunnel into a Tim Horton’s doughnut shop, used to smuggle government-financed Canadian prescription drugs.

Packed into that one small paragraph (which is illustrated with the Tim Horton’s photo above) are a number of typical clichés about Canada. The main idea – that Canada is a totally uninteresting place and that a crime drama about our country would serve no other purpose beyond that of a soporific – comes through clearly in the phrase about there being “no minimum to the ratings potential” of the idea. Clearly, Easterbrook sees Canada as a squeaky-clean, law-abiding place where nothing bad ever happens. It’s almost enough to make one ashamed of our peaceful nation. You feel like crying out, “Hey, we have crime too, you know!” But what’s the point?

But Easterbrook really distinguishes himself in the last sentence, where he manages to bring in a reference to our “government-financed” health care system, and also Tim Horton’s doughnuts. Health care, needless to say, has come up before, but the doughnuts idea is a new one. The corporate overlords at Tim Horton’s must be thrilled to see that their brand is indelibly associated with Canada in the minds of Americans – or are they?

A recent article suggests Tim Horton’s expansion into the U.S. is a failure; could the brand’s connection to Canada, and our uninteresting, crime-free image, be part of the problem? Perhaps doughnuts just taste better when the threat of death feels a little more imminent.

At least Easterbrook spells it “doughnut” rather than “donut”, coming down on the right side of that heated debate.

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