Politics, hockey and the French Language

No place in Canada takes the matter of language quite as seriously as Quebec. Go to Montreal and look around for some English. It’s generally not there and when it is, it’s buried under the French, smaller too.

That’s all part of the physical manifestation of Quebec’s ongoing culture wars, their attack on the English language. Bill 101, passed in 1977 made French the official language of La belle province. And everything in Quebec is French, Quebecois up the wazoo. The original intent of Bill 101 was to essentially banish English from the province: it banned English from commercial signs and restricted education in English to those who had siblings already in such programs.

It was later amended in the Henri Bourassa years, allowing some English signage, so long as the French was twice as large as the imposing, lesser language. Mordecai Richler once wrote of well-meaning citizens who would stalk the streets, tape measure in hand, photographing offending signs.

Make no mistake; French is an endangered species in Canada. With the vast majority of the country speaking English, with media from all sides coming into the province in English and with a slackening support for traditional powers like the Bloc, it’s not too hard to see Quebec changing. The actual impact of the silent revolution is something to argue over all day, but it’s intent was simple enough: protect the language of a loud, vocal minority.

The loud, vocal minority has a proud history of stirring up shit in Quebec. One of the first moments of the Silent Revolution was the Maurice Richard Riot, where a suspension led to an act of domestic terrorism. Indeed, between riots sometimes spring up during the playoffs, either on the street or on the ice. Arguably more than anywhere else in Canada, Quebec takes it’s hockey very seriously.

These two passions – protecting their language and winning hockey – have met occasionally in the past and flared up in recent weeks. In the midst of a rocky season, the Canadiens fired head coach Jaques Martin and replaced him with assistant Randy Cunneyworth.

The problem isn’t that the firing came too late, after the Canadiens found themselves in the cellar of the Northeast Division. It’s not that he has zero coaching experience in the NHL. It’s that he doesn’t speak French. It’s not an issue of speaking to his team – only three of their players are from Quebec – but one of fitting into a province that is predominantly French speaking.

Fittingly, it’s the media that keep banging this drum: the same media that is mostly French. There are five French newspapers, three French TV stations and a French talk radio station. Cunneyworth’s languages was been drummed by them, and amplified by the national media, into A Real Story, a news cycle of it’s own. Never mind that the Canadiens are winners of just three of their last 10 games, Cunneyworth should resign because he doesn’t speak French.

A French-language advocacy group, Mouvement Quebec francais, has taken Cunneyworth’s hiring personally, like a slap to the face, calling it the latest in a series of insults to the French language. According to a National Post story, their laundry list of complaints includes everything from ambient music to the team’s roster; not enough French players.

It’s reminiscent of Bill 101: they have a good idea – serve the French fans as you would the English ones – and they make an interesting points about post-game interviews. But they immediately go too far and all but call for blood. A comfortable medium – say, hiring someone from Berlitz for post-game media scrum translating – never comes up. The kneejerk reaction is the blunt one, a hammer to pound away any traces of anything that isn’t pure laine Quebecois.

And what would that solve? Would bringing in more French players – last I checked, Patrice Brisebois was available – bring more wins? Pounding the drum of Quebecois nationalism is an easy trick for the media (witness how it was pulled this spring) and it helps mask whatever problems beat reporters and columnists have with a person who can’t communicate with them.

Working a country away, in Philadelphia, Mark Bowden wrote a great book about the Eagles and explained how the pack makes coaches, and especially Buddy Ryan. “…he understood The Pack. You let them stand on the sidelines during practice and you feed them a steady line verbal stingers and you reminded them at least once a week that they really knew jackshit about football… and before long, they were eating out of your hand.”

That feeding, or rather the lack of it thanks to Cunneyworth’s language barrier, could end his coaching career before it even began. Is it right? Maybe not, but it’s certainly Quebecois.

MacGregor gets it wrong, even though he's right

You know, I could have sworn the war was over when it cames to statistics, bloggers and sportswriting. It's been three years since the Oilers kicked a blogger out of the Rexall Centre and 15 since the first Baseball Prospectus came out (and about a decade since it started to become mainstream). Teams, leagues, newspapers and TV stations all have bloggers on staff. Some, like The Score, not only have blogs for every sport, but they've even given them broadcast slots.

I thought the war was over, could have sworn stats and blogging were accepted now. After all, aren't stats like On Base Percentage on TV now? Don't box scores include things like Faceoff Percentage? So why is Roy MacGregor contemplating them as the end of sports journalism?

His piece, The Dumbing Down of Sportswriting, argues that things like "Blackberry Journalism", over-reliance on statistics and social media are destroying good storytelling and hard-hitting journalism. From his piece:

"It is called, derogatorily, “BlackBerry Journalism.” Television, ironically, is the worst offender, with the most visual of tools reducing so much of sports journalism to talking heads reading off rumours or various crumbs of minutiae handed off to them by those in a position to control such information..."

He argues great storytellers like AJ Liebling, Gay Talese or Roger Kahn would have been hamstrung by today's requirements: posting information on Twitter, transcribing tape, shooting video, etc, ad infinitum (Never mind that, for one, Liebling's habit of making stuff up wouldn't fly in today's landscape). That as networks start to rely on statistics provided by the respective leagues, they can lose sight of the message. And that more people need to read Paul Gallico's Farewell to Sport, a very cool book written by a guy who quit sportswriting to devote his life to writing novels.

It's not as troubling a column as the reaction would have one believe. MacGregor makes some very good points about how easy it can be to lose sight of the big picture by focusing on small, irrelevant details. And he's absolutely right on the overburden some reporters now have. The always-cool Rosie DiManno said the same in her column last week. To wit:

Perhaps young’uns just entering the business enjoy all this multi-platform clutter and embrace the challenge of reinventing newspapers. From my perspective, it takes the eye off the only ball that should matter to print journalism: words.

Both DiManno and MacGregor rightly argue that reporters have to do a lot more these days and it's harder to tell good stories as a result. Hell, when I was in J-School, I experienced it first hand: I once went to an interview adorned with a digital SLR, a handheld camcorder, a digital audio recorder, about 20 feet of assorted cords, notepads, pencils and cell phone. I had to shoot video of the interview for the online news segment, audio for the part to air on campus radio plus shoot still photos and make notes for the written story, too. And that was 2008, before social media. Now I'd have to tweet, live-blog, etc., ad nauseam.

I don't mean to give MacGregor a complete pass, though. His column is wrong in how it argues nobody cares about small details like suspension length or that statistics get in the way of things. Thanks to the rise in popularity of fantasy sports, even the most mundane statistics can be meaningful. Even Face Off Percentage.

When he suggests the media needs to focus more on storytelling, he omits mention of all the great writing going on right now, from Spencer Hall to Joe Posnanski to Jeff MacGregor. One might refer him to Grantland or The Classical, where such storytelling is the norm. Twitter has hurt none of today's Taleses. Hell, thanks to sites like SportsFeat, Longform or Byliner, it's helped make it more popular.

It's too bad he's used such a broad brush because he makes a lot of good points. Sports reporting on TV now is a lot of noise and not much signal: take TSN's heavy reliance on ex-jocks, for instance. And newsrooms are understaffed, leaving reporters overworked, thanks to a shrinking media market.

The reaction to his column is kind of ironic: it's easier to pick up what he missed and spread it through Twitter than it is to sit, read and think about what he wrote. Nowhere does he actually say blogs are killing sportswriting. It does say he respects the power of Twitter and that too many are focused on getting hits rather than doing good work. But it's easier to pick out and focus on the smaller, more mundane things in his column and focus exclusively on those: a snide comment on Talese tweeting DiMaggio 140 characters at a time, a quote about statistics he took from a book.

That reaction's exactly what his column is warning against.

Not buying the Bills in Toronto

Sunday's Buffalo/Washington game was awful, horrible and boring beyond words. It was such a dull game it should count as an act of international aggression. It was Must Not See TV. It was brutal.

With any luck, it'll be one of the last Bills games in Toronto.

When the series started a few years ago, in 2007, the inclination was somewhat towards optimism. The series was conceived by a group that included heavy hitters like Larry Tanenbaum of Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment and Ted Rogers. It came at a time when the Argonauts were doing poorly (they’d finish 2007 with a 4-14 record) and Rogers was upping their financial commitments to the Blue Jays: they had recently added AJ Burnett, BJ Ryan and Frank Thomas to the team.

Enter the Bills. They’re a team with a sizable chunk of fans in Ontario and, it appeared, an uncertain future. Owner Ralph Wilson was just shy of 90 when negotiations started; once he left the Bills, it was far from a given that the team would stay in Buffalo. After all, Buffalo’s one of the NFL’s smallest markets and it’s shrinking, too. Between 2000 and 2010, Buffalo’s population dropped by over 10 per cent. Ralph Wilson Stadium is old, too: it first hosted games in 1973, nearly 40 years ago. Earlier this year, the National Football Post ranked it 20th among all NFL stadiums, saying, “When it comes to architecture and amenities, RWS is going to rank at the bottom of the list.”

It was a great match: a team with a bad stadium, a group that wanted to bring pro football to theirs and was willing to throw money around. It was such a good match that the NFL issued a statement saying the Bills were not going to permanently move to Hogtown.

But nobody was really suggesting that was an option. While the Rogers Centre is an okay place for an exhibition game, it’s capacity of 54,000, is too small to regularly hold NFL games. A new stadium would solve that problem, but who’s going to build it? Toronto’s government is slashing budgets all around – the gravy train, as their mayor put it – so don’t expect a hand there. Why build one? For just eight NFL dates a year? The Argonauts are locked into a lease at the Centre and the TC have their own stadium.

The games have always been a way to make money. Tickets at a Toronto Bills game are more expensive than a game in Buffalo (at one point, costing three times as much: $180 Canadian to $51 US). A Rochester newspaper was blunt, calling the games cash cows. Indeed, the Bills made $78 million from the five-year deal. How much is that? A 2011 Forbes valuation put their yearly operating income at $40.9 million.

It’s been successful on that front. It’s less successful on the field. Sunday’s win was the first time the Bills won in Toronto. It came only a few days after Buffalo’s George Wilson suggested that it’s not really a home game, because the fans don’t care who wins.

And Wilson’s right. Toronto is not a Bills town. It’s not even a football town. It’s also not a Raptors, Argonaut or Blue Jay town. It’s a Leaf town. Hockey will always come first here. Yes, NFL fans will show up for the game, but that doesn’t suppose they’re Buffalo fans. Just take the moment when Scott Chandler jumped into the stands and was greeted by indifference (I distinctly remember one guy filming it on his smartphone).

At best – and one could argue with the Bills 5-2 record, this is their best – the games feel like a neutral field novelty. Despite how good Buffalo’s been this year, Sunday’s win featured a less-than-packed house.

Next year is the final year of the agreement. A lot has changed from when it was first signed. Ted Rogers is dead, the Canadian dollar has strengthened and the Bills are suddenly good. A new agreement would likely cost Rogers more than $78 million – and that’s even if the Bills want to keep giving up home games.

Simply put, the whole series feels like a tease. It’s a taste of NFL action, but without any of the payoff. It costs more than a game in Buffalo, but has little of the atmosphere: tailgating, packed stands, cold weather. It’s a sanitized, suit-wearing, straight-laced version of pro football, the equivalent of Mitt Romney. Yes, the Bills finally won a game in the cavernous Rogers Centre. But they couldn’t even make that interesting.

The Toronto experiment isn’t working: why pay more for games that feel like they mean less? That the players don’t even like? Next year’s series should be the last. 

Karma and Fate in the Motor City

I don’t really know if I believe in stuff like karma or fate. If you want to throw all caution to the wind and say this will happen because it is supposed to, like you have no sense of free will, feel free.

But I wonder sometimes since things can even themselves out over time and twists can sort out if you let them. And when I think about the Detroit Lions, I think about if karma and fate are really a thing.

The Lions have long been a pretty awful team. I can remember watching a Thanksgiving game played in Detroit a few years ago where the most interesting thing was when security chased a guy with a “FIRE MILLEN” sign around the stadium. I remember that fan popping up two, maybe three different times in different places at Ford Field.

Meanwhile, what was happening on the field became secondary. I don’t suspect this is an unusual circumstance in Detroit.

A lot has been written this year about a renaissance of sorts in Detroit recently. One-time resident and author Jeffrey Eugenides recently praised the city and said he’s trying to convince his wife to move back to the city with him. There’s that Chrysler ad you’ve probably seen, too.

More recently there’s a story in Sportsnet Magazine about the success of the Lions and Tigers this fall; one of whiom got off to a hot start and the other finished the season strong. Justin Verlander’s not only a likely Cy Young winner, but is getting serious MVP talk, too. And the Lions won their first five games in row too, their best start since 1956.

Things have not gone quite as good in the interim, though.

The Tigers fell apart in the championship series, losing in six games. They dropped three of the first four and lost game six 15 to five. In four postseason appearances, Verlander’s ERA jumped to 5.31 and his WHIP to 1.45, both much worse than his regular season numbers. His first start now seems like an omen: a game in the pouring rain, delayed after an inning until the next day.

In so many words, the Tigers ran aground against one of, and maybe the, best teams in baseball. This isn’t meant to disparage what they did. It’s more of a “hey, things even out sometimes.”

The Lions are doing their own evening out, too. Since a 5-0 start, they’ve dropped two games in a row: a surprising loss to San Francisco and a more maddening one to Atlanta.

Granted, the Niners are their own good story. It used to be a given that whatever NFL preview magazine I picked up would always ask “IS THIS THE YEAR THE NINERS PUT IT ALL TOGETHER” in breathless hyperbole and big, bold letters and every year the answer was usually no, it wasn’t. They haven’t had a winning season or made the playoffs since 2002. Remember, Seattle won the NFC West last year with just seven wins.

So it was inevitable that when two good stories met, one would stop being so good. That’s fine; the Niners were the better team that day. Sunday, it was a more traditional loss: the Falcons got to Matthew Stafford, sacking him three times, picking him off once and generally banging him up.

That Falcons defence shut down the Lions. Atlanta held the ball for nearly 10 minutes more and picked up nearly twice as many first downs. No Detroit running back picked up more than 50 yards or scored. Indeed, Detroit was one-for-12 when it came to third downs. Later, Lions tackle Ndamukong Suh is said to have taunted and mocked Matt Ryan after the Falcons quarterback went down hard, kicking his feet and saying stuff like “get the cart.”

Admittedly, it’s pretty tame stuff (I’d be surprised if this wasn’t said all the time, really). But Yahoo Sports’ Mike Silver put it best: “If you believe in karma, you are cringing as you read this.”

Any football fan will remember that Stafford is pretty fragile, as far as athletes go. He’s never played more than 10 games in a season. He’s hurt his knee and both shoulders in his three-season career. And he’s got hurt against Atlanta, too, limping off the field as the game ended. A MRI was negative, but still, this is someone with a history.

Ultimately, the two losses make me wonder about the Lions’ hot start. Stats like Simple Rating System or Point Differential suggest they’re one of the better teams in the NFL, not just the NFC. They’re there largely from a great passing game (Calvin Johnson’s season is an underreported story, I’d argue) and a good passing defence (10 picks, 17 sacks and about 204 passing yards allowed per game).

But last year, I thought they looked like a good team. And after injuries to key players they finished with six wins. It could easily happen again this year. It could happen any year, really.

I don’t know if I believe in karma. I don’t know if ALCS was more about the Tigers settling down than it was about powerful hitting by the Rangers. I don’t know if a few taunts led to a MRI on Monday. I don’t think they did and they probably didn’t. I just know that if I was a Detroit fan, I wouldn’t want to chance fate