Chronicle of Wearing a Maple Leafs Hat in Boston

Posted on May 6, 2014 by McPhedran

I admit that I went to Boston with an attitude. As a fan of Toronto Maple Leafs, I do not think kind thoughts of anything Bruin, and so donned my Leafs cap to represent the true blue and white. I didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. “You guys have been losers since 1967.” The guy stared at me deadpan at the bus station.

My comeback wasn’t a classic. “At least I don’t live in Boston.”

It was going to be a long weekend, but I was up to it, and went straight into a bar called The Tam to watch the Bruins-Canadiens game, now in overtime. I received a few glares and just one muttered comment – “I think this guy is messing up my karma” – but that was it. I almost felt bad when the Bruins lost the game.

The startling silence continued over the next day – perhaps because I was at a writer’s conference? It wasn’t until I arrived in Cambridge that things picked up again. A square-jawed, almost pleasant-looking man leaned out from an alley. “Leafs are the only Original Six team that didn’t make the playoffs. Did you know that?”

I wasn’t sure if he was right. It took me a couple of blocks to think it through and another few to think of my comeback. “Now I know I’m in fucking Harvard.”

I continued on to The Sinclair, preparing for the next attack.

“Love the hat, man.”

I wanted to detect a tone but couldn’t find one.

“Got to wear your colors,” said another. “I respect that.” It wasn’t until I ran into an old friend at the show that the antagonism returned. “I looked up, saw the Leafs hat, and thought what an asshole. I knew it must be you.”

Sterling, the Scapegoat Racist

Posted on April 30, 2014 by McPhedran

The trial and execution of Donald Sterling has been swift and sure, leaving the talking heads crowing about doing the right thing. The problem is, just like Police Chief Bull Connor in the ’60s, Sterling is an easy target; it takes no effort to decry overt racists, the kind who mutter racist drivel or point fire houses at the innocent.

What would be interesting – perhaps even civilized – is if these same talking heads took aim at the insidious racism that permeates American society, the kind of racism that is shrugged off, such as the fact that while the majority of players are black (78%), the majority of coaches (53%) and general managers (60%) and vast majority of owners are white (96%). While many of these owners might be vaguely beneficent, none are looking to surrender ownership of the plantation any time soon.

This capitalistic wall is the very same issue that grounded Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968 when he switched his sights from the blatant racism of the south to the economic racism of the north. It wasn’t a direction that the white politicians and business leaders took kindly too but was a problem quickly and violently solved.When the Toronto Raptors and Vancouver Grizzlies joined the NBA in 1995, the U.S. media was startled to learn that both organizations hired black men as managers – Stu Jackson (Vancouver) and Isiah Thomas (Toronto). This wasn’t much of a story in Canada because these guys knew basketball – one came from the NBA’s Head Office, the other from the championship Detroit Pistons – and that was all there was to it. However the story in the U.S. ran, sadly, like the Sterling story runs today: NBA Serves Justice. Too bad the same can’t be said everywhere else.

My Whirling Brain

Posted on April 20, 2014 by McPhedran

I don’t drink coffee. And for good reason. My brain is on constant whirl. It starts from the moment my eyes are half open. My dream? What was that? What did I do? I was a lawyer? I was that. And a murderer? No, that was him. And he got off. I was all right. My health was good, even if I always had the pain deep in my back and ribs. What was the point of any of this? I was alive. Yes. I had to get to work. I had to get back to the book. How were the Leafs? Oh right. Shit.Sometimes I want to hide from my head, get into the corner of it and let it spin on itself. It never stops, whirling from the banal to the introspective back to the banal. Lots of doubt. Lots of darkness. Lots of sex. Sports too. That helps tone everything else down – the nothingness and all that. And then I do what I have to do. I eat and walk, teach and talk, email and grade, write and plan, blog and argue, reason and mount the elliptical, try to make some sense of what’s to come. And then I have a drink and think and have another and try to ride the round slow arc, going up, my arms almost out, warm and clear, and chase that well, and slump, giving in to my urge to play Texas Hold ‘Em. Watch something and something else, sleep and do it all again.

The Existential Play of the Toronto Maple Leafs

Posted on April 5, 2014 by McPhedran

The heathen fanbase of teams across the continent – be they in Montreal, Boston, Detroit, Los Angeles or Chicago – simply do not understand. They think it is about winning, hugging and celebrating in a crass display, that this is the point of the game. And I feel sorry for them.They don’t understand that it isn’t this at all, but, as Camus wrote in The Plague, instead is a reminder of our “never-ending defeat.”The Toronto Maple Leafs are only for those who can take it, not the world as we dream, but as it truly is: empty and unrelenting.

The Existential Play of the Toronto Maple Leafs

Leaf goaltender Drew McIntyre

Yes, the Leafs are only for pure existentialists. Their recent travails – an eight-game losing streak – has even brought The New York Times on the Being and Nothingness train, citing the “disturbing situation”, “devastating slump”, and Leaf coach Carlyle’s catch phrase, “Just breathe. Take it easy. Breathe.” But they don’t understand. They use these words devastating and disturbing like they’re a bad thing, like they aren’t needed, like they can be avoided. They don’t see the wall behind us, the epidemic that’s surrounds. No. All they see is putting the puck in the net. And it’s just so sad.

Grief: Not News.

Posted on March 25, 2014 by McPhedran

Conjecture on missing Malaysian Flight 370 might make for a good story, even if the cable channels bleed it dry.That said, relentlessly filming grieving relatives is not news. Nor will it ever be.

If these ambulance-chasers really want to get to the bottom of this kind of misery, all they have to do is read Agamemnon, indeed any Greek tragedy. Failing that, they could kill each other – or go missing – and their relatives could be interviewed instead.The problem being that no one in their families would care, knowing the disingenuous and self-serving nature of these jabbering shits.

Shock to Sell

Posted on March 22, 2014 by McPhedran

Lars von Trier’s cinematic mission to shock audiences continues with the release of Nymphomaniac.

Lars von Trier’s “Nymphomaniac”

Using scandalous images to sell isn’t a unique plan.

Henry Miller’s early work

Sarah Lucas’s “Nud Nob” in New York

Fat White Family perform at Pianos in New York

But instead of shocking, this tack becomes more a source of amusement, the kind of thing that sells t-shirts. Which seems to be all they’re trying to do.

Quiet No More

Posted on March 2, 2014 by McPhedran

There was a day, many years ago, when arenas allowed for silence.A moment to consider existence, our utter meaninglessness in the vastness of this universe, interrupted occasionally by a polka played on the organ or a lone plastic horn.There were no big screens, no video replays, no music, just you and your thoughts.

Those intermittent moments are no longer. Trivia games are played at every turn, music blared, T-shirts shot into the crowd.And I no longer have the time to think about which might be better.

Outed Sportscaster Feller Found Dead

Posted on February 26, 2014 by McPhedran

“Yeah, I’m as gay as they get.” Nationally syndicated sports journalist Thorton Feller’s recent announcement stunned the sports community. Unsure if his word was genuine, many decried his declaration as a publicity stunt for wider readership of his idiosyncratic column Feller’s Beef. Whatever the angle, it soon became the only topic on tap, forcing Mr. Feller to protest vehemently. “I’m not a gay sports journalist. I’m just a sports journalist. That’s it.” Mr. Feller’s ire became particularly inflamed by the most square-jawed of the scrum, Rock Misogyny, shrieking, “But you came out!”

Feller lost his composure, striking with a sharp slap. “We’re all fucking gay!” A melee ensued; bats were raised, sticks waved, and Feller was dead.

The scrum laid full blame on a member of the custodial staff, an illegal immigrant it turns out, who hated sports journalists.

The Russian Revolution after this Commercial Break

Posted on February 7, 2014 by McPhedran

Americans have hyped the Sochi Olympics with anti-glee, reveling in every problem with tweets and drivel. While they have perhaps begun to tone down their ritualistic vitriol for the opening ceremonies, they can’t let go of old prejudices.

Promised NBC commentators Lauer, Viera and Remnick,during the opening ceremonies, “The Russian revolution coming up after this commercial break…”“The revolution is probably the touchiest period in Russian history,” they continued. “The turmoil in Soviet society, without ever mentioning the word Lenin.”“They are proud of Ladas here,” they moved on. “Unfortunately they became a punchline for the rest of the world.”“This is Vladimir Putin’s Russia,” they concluded. “And he is insisting that we look at the political power of Russia tonight.”Look out. Here come the ballet dancers.