A FAN’S NOTES

Game On (and on)!

Apparently, the Stanley Cup may be awarded and a World Series won if nobody’s there to see the final game, the ceremony, watch it on TV, or even care. Had the onset of this particular November resembled the ones to which I’ve become accustomed over time, my attention would now be turning to the final few weeks of the Canadian Football League schedule. Our modest loop’s playbook was overly complicated in 2020; no team played a single down.

The Grey Cup championship remains stalled at 107, the 2019 final. And so, in the spirit of Marcel Proust and as a nod to les temps perdu, Ann and I decided to treat Tuesday’s American presidential election as the big game: beer and bar food in front of the television. When watching sports we want see-saw drama, white knuckle entertainment. This particular night we wanted to watch a rout, a landslide. No nail-biting overtime.

The Constitution of the United States of America is a noble and justly venerated document. Despite its many amendments, it remains at its core an eighteenth century mission statement. Like the Bible, Magna Carta or anything published by Alvin Toffler or Faith Popcorn, the constitution reflects the times of its authors. Some things should no longer apply. And yet it remains the Saint Peter rock of a twenty-first century schizoid democracy.

Consider the Second Amendment (with or without the comma – language and usage evolve), the one about the right to bear arms (,) and form militias. Having won the War of Independence, General Washington disbanded the Continental Army. Naturally the thirteen nearly sovereign states should be allowed to fight back should the British, the French, the Dutch, the Spaniards and the Portuguese come sniffing around the New World again.

These newly and tenuously unified states realized they’d require a singular figurehead to represent their interests around the globe. A man to provide an American face and wield some central authority, but not so much as to trample states’ rights. The people (at least those souls who qualified as people) would choose. Checks and balances were assigned to the executive, judiciary and legislative branches of the nascent federal government. Some of these regulations are now hopelessly archaic.

The eleven-week gap between election day and the president-elect’s inauguration reflects a time before telegraph wires, railroad steel and the fabled Pony Express. Nor does the United States utilize the scrutiny of an overarching and objective institution like Elections Canada.

Our fun night is now playing out longer than a cricket test match because none of those American boys in breeches and powdered wigs ever imagined that the results of an election in a far-flung land could be tabulated in hours instead of weeks – provided all interested parties are on board. Adherence to the old ways, insightful then and ignorant now, is fraught with unintended consequences. And so Ann and I will stay on our couch for another day or two cringing at absurd reality TV. Here we are now, entertain us. Pass the fiery wingnuts.          

meGeoff has been your most unreliable, unbalanced and inaccurate alternative source of politically-charged sports commentary since 2013. Sign up for e-mail alerts from the Crooked 9, use that thingy on the right. The second wave and winter are coming; you’ll need a distraction.