Sad to report, my faithful seer Madam Redneck left the building this year and, try as I might, I’ve failed to conjure up her spirit and get a heads-up on what’s in front of the girls and boys in the playground. My Ouija board is also on the fritz, thus there shall be no bold predictions for 2021. Instead, I give you 30 things I would like to know, see and/or hear—or not—in the New Year…
I’d like to know why I keep seeing Tessa Virtue on TV, but not Scott Moir. Hey, I get the part about Tessa being a total babe, but our boy Scott isn’t exactly Frankenskater. He’s a good-looking guy, he won as many fancy-skating titles and medals as Tessa, and he knows how to put the hearty in party (see: 2018 Winter Olympics, beer swilling). How is it possible that he has zero marketability?
I’d like to know what makes Patrick Mahomes tick. I swear, there’s a carnival between his ears. He isn’t a quarterback, he’s a carnival barker inviting one and all to come inside to enjoy his razzle and dazzle. If Barnum and Bailey aren’t part of his receiving corps, they should be.
I’d like to know what’s on Dustin Byfuglien’s mind. I suspect it involves a fishing hut, a fishing hole, and a fishing pole, but it would be nice to hear Big Buff’s version of events that led to his divorce from the Winnipeg Jets.
I’d like to see Kevin Cheveldayoff do something to upgrade the Jets Big Buff-less blueline. No way they can succeed with basically the same group that was found lacking last season, in and out of the E-Town bubble.
I’d like to hear more from Puck Pontiff Mark Chipman. In the most unusual and demanding of years, the Jets co-bankroll had less to say than a street mime, and that simply won’t do. I’m sure the faithful would like to know what he’s thinking, if not plotting.
I’d like to see Jennifer Jones win another Scotties Tournament of Hearts. It would be Jen’s seventh title and end any lingering discussion about the greatest female Canadian curler of all-time. Well, wouldn’t it?
I’d like to see Chelsea Carey find some playmates. Still hard to believe that a two-time Scotties-winning skip remains a free agent.
I’d like to know who killed JFK and who thought it would be a good idea to put Cassie Campbell-Pascall in a TV blurt box and give her a microphone. Sorry, but she’s nails on a chalkboard.
I’d like to hear Canadian Football League Commish Randy Ambrosie talk less about his pie-in-the-sky global scheme and more about bonfires on the home front. I don’t know if Commish Randy’s job is in jeopardy as a result of his totally botched beg for bailout bucks from the feds last spring/summer, but gushing about Greece and Italy and France is fine if you’re discussing what’s on the dinner menu. It certainly doesn’t put people in the pews in Vancouver, Montreal and the Republic of Tranna.
I’d like to know who slides behind the microphone Chris Cuthbert abandoned on TSN’s CFL coverage. Tell me Gord Miller gets the play-by-play gig and I’ll be happy.
I’d like to see the rabble in The ROT marching to BMO Field on those nights/afternoons when the Argos are the only game in town. Once upon a time, when folks in The ROT had nothing to do other than watch the Maple Leafs lose, the Boatmen were the top draw in Rouge Football. We’ll never see that again, but is an average head count of 20,000 too much to ask?
I’d like to hear less from members of the Professional Women’s Hockey Players Association about what they “deserve,” and I’d like them to show us how Ponytail Puck can work. Glorified scrimmages and waiting for the National Hockey League to adopt the Little Orphan Annies isn’t much of a business plan.
I’d like to see TSN and Sportsnet pay more attention to the National Women’s Hockey League, which now includes a Canadian entry, the Toronto Six. The NWHL will be doing the bubble thing next month in Lake Placid, and I can’t think of any reason why their championship tournament should be ignored.
I’d like to see Serena Williams bow out gracefully, with or without a 24th tennis Grand Slam title, but when have we ever known Serena to be graceful about anything?
I’d like to see our Genie Bouchard put her clothes back on and rediscover her game.
I’d like to see a male tennis player not named Nadal, Federer or Djokovic win a Grand Slam tournament that includes the Big Three in the draw.
I’d like to see Patrik Laine find a home that makes him happy. If that’s Good Ol’ Hometown, terrific. If it means the Jets move Puck Finn to another locale, I’m okay with that as long as Chevy doesn’t get fleeced.
I’d like to see the Jets hoist the Stanley Cup. During my current lifetime would be preferable and, at 70, they should know I don’t have much runway left.
I’d like to see John Epping win the Brier, because it would be a beautiful thing for the LGBT(etc.) community.
I’d like to see my longtime friend Dave Komosky inducted into the Canadian Curling Hall of Fame. I can’t think of anyone who’s been scribbling about our Pebble People longer than Davey, the sole exception possibly being Terry Jones of Postmedia Edmonton. Davey’s done his thing in Good Ol’ Hometown, Saskatoon, Calgary and now with Curling Canada, and he’s been cranking out the good stuff since the very early 1970s.
I’d like to see some diversity in the Hockey Diversity Alliance.
I’d like to see the Yankee Doodle Damsels get their butts kicked in Olympic soccer next summer, preferably by Christine Sinclair, Desiree Scott and our Canadian women. But I’ll settle for England, France, Germany, Sweden, Australia, the Netherlands, Brazil or Japan getting the job done.
I’d like to hear and see less of Bryson DeChambeau on my flatscreen. The bulked-up Frankengolfer seems to believe the game is a lab experiment, and he’s a bit of a scary guy. I mean, his practice swings are violent, like he’s preparing for a baby seal hunt. And the talking heads can’t stop gabbing about him, even when he’s 20 shots out of the lead.
I’d like to see our Brooke Henderson win another two or three tournaments on the LPGA Tour.
I’d like to hear the suits at Postmedia tell us they plan to make the Winnipeg Sun a local paper again, with a beefed-up sports section (seriously, two pages on Saturday?) and a beefed-up stable of sports scribes who actually cover local athletes other than the pros. Even better would be local interests taking the tabloid off Postmedia’s hands and trashing all the Tranna-centric copy that’s been filling the sports section for the past few years.
I’d like to see Scott Billeck back writing about pucks and powerplays rather than a pandemic and vaccines, and I’m guessing Scotty feels the same.
I’d like for news snoops in the Republic if Tranna to stop telling us in the colonies what we’re feeling and thinking. Unless they actually spend time walking among us, they can’t possibly know what turns our crank.
I’d like to see Tiger Woods win one more tournament to tie Sam Snead for the most in PGA Tour history, then make way for his lad Charlie.
I’d like to see sports get through the year without hearing about another athlete beating up his wife or girlfriend, or both.
I’d like to hear and see less of Kayla Grey on TSN SportsCentre. She’s too loud and there’s a strong whiff of arrogance in her delivery.
And, finally, may the road rise to meet you, may the wind be to your back, and may the rain fall softly on your fields in the new year and all the years to follow.