Of course, a digression.
We don’t do overt displays of emotion or hero worship or even patriotism all that well in this wonderful country of ours and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
I am far more for under-stated appreciation for what we have, more mostly private reflective moments of thought, not as much action.
Except Canada Day.
Only, it would follow, because of the actions of the brave men and women who did take the call and serve the duty, who put life and limb on the line so that we can live as we do today, so that our country – and our world – remains for the most part a hospitable place.
This is the day we need to celebrate them, publicly and privately.
There was a time when I think more than a few of us spent time in the Legion. In small towns and medium cities and big-cit neighbourhoods they were places to go and hear stories, to see the fellas, to perhaps play some shuffleboard and have a pickled egg, a draught and get some perspective on what life was like.
Good afternoons, they were.
Those Legions are dark, mostly, we are losing the men and women who survived the war to the realities of time and that’s too bad.
If you drive by one today, slow down, would you? Tip your cap or bow your head or just look and say a silent thanks. You’ll feel better, I bet.
There isn’t a lot of war veteran history in my family – there are a few medals in Super Brother’s house that I hope he gets a chance to look at for a second today, or perhaps to share with Super Grandpa at some point – and I would venture to guess it’s the same in a lot of Irregular families.
There are, however, tens of thousands of you out there who know the loss of war and it of you we think today.
And be appreciative.
Anyway, now back to our regular foolishness.
So, the talks drone on.
The weekend for union to mull over the latest NBA offer – or last offer if the dispatches are correct – and thankfully we should have some resolution on Monday or Tuesday.
It would appear to either be acceptance with noses held and a 72-game season or some kind of decertification move and chaos.
Me? I’d love the game to come back but the level of ambivalence and ennui is off the chart.
Will say this though:
With a 75-game starting Dec. 15 crammed in to what appears to be a 130-day period will be a test of even the fittest of grunts. Of which I am not one. Better start training, just in case.
Okay, you know what I wish?
That this story about soccer player David Testo wasn’t a story.
I wish we didn’t care, or want to know, or need to know his sexual orientation, that he could live and play and we could watch and critique and appreciate without any regard for what he did or does in his private life.
I understand entirely that it may send a wonderful message to youngsters who may be feeling confusion or anger or even shame and I can see the good that it may do.
Just wish it didn’t have to be done, that we didn’t care, the teens in similar situations didn’t have to worry about keeping things secret for fear of repercussion, that they could live as they want to.
They can’t, that sucks, and until they can, we have very much work to do as a society.
I really don’t care which of the athletes I watch are gay, or which are straight, or which are whatever. You shouldn’t, either.
Speaking of …
You been keeping up with this ongoing story of the possibly gay penguins?
I’m just waiting for the march of other penguins on the zoo to protest, telling the handlers to let Buddy and Pedro live their lives as they wish.
Knew this would come some day:
Q: I know you loathe the pucks, but is there any chance you might do another guest appearance on the IGBT for the Leaves?
Jim S, Thornhill
Nah. I think Zorro and Kevin and Dave F. are fully capable of running that show; no sense me crowding the issue.
But, if we get to Labour Armageddon the first of the week and there will be no NBA season, all bets are off.
As I was doing the reporting on this baseball story (yes, we are all over the map these days, aren’t we?) one thought stuck me:
The allure of home must be a powerful, powerful, dangerous, dangerous thing for some young athletes.
You would think after all the past incidences of kidnapping and terror and the perils of wealth that more athletes would use their financial abilities to either take their families to safer, more sane places to live or at least take better security cautions they can likely afford.
But there is something about “home” I guess that draws them back, something stronger than simply the chance to play winter ball with long-time buddies.
We can’t quite understand it, I don’t think, not too many of us have had to leave our comfort zones and homelands in search of a career.
But we can hope – and hope that teams drill this into the heads of their young players from the minute that they join organizations – that kids take all the precautions possible. And that they don’t flaunt their wealth so openly as to almost dare those in dire circumstances to see them solely as dollar signs.
There is a responsibility of youngsters to protect themselves and their families. That may not always be enough but it should be a starting point for all of them.