Kolby Solinsky2013-05-25T11:34:49-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.ca/author/index.php?author=kolby-solinskyCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Kolby SolinskyGood old fashioned elbow grease.How Long Until Kevin Lowe Fires Himself?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.30887132013-04-16T17:05:51-04:002013-04-17T13:50:37-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
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Think of that much-overused (and sometimes incorrect) line, "It's not personal. It's business."
Well, the Edmonton Oilers could learn a lot from it. Both Alberta teams, really. It's always seemed like the Flames and the Oil believe the only ones to hire are the ones from their backyard, from their past, or from their families. To hold onto your job as a coach, general manager, or player of either one of the Wild Rose Country's only NHL clubs, you have to have won a Cup in either city.
How else can you explain the firing of now-former general manager Steve Tambellini, especially since Kevin Lowe still holds his position as president of hockey operations?
The Oilers knew what they were doing then. They don't anymore.
Just listen to this trade of Q & A between Edmonton Journal columnist John MacKinnon and Lowe from Monday's press conference, courtesy of the EJ:
Kevin Lowe: "We have two types of fans. We have paying customers and we have people that watch the game that we still care about, but certainly the people who go to the games and support, we spend a lot of time talking to them, delivering our message. I would, uh, I think it's safe to say that half the general managers in the National Hockey League would trade their roster for our roster right now. And in terms of the group that messed things up (voice rising) you're talking about the group that had the team one period away from winning the Stanley Cup."
John MacKinnon: "Seven years ago."
Lowe: "And you know the cycle of that. You know we chased the dream a few years for our fanbase. Like a lot of teams do. And then at some point in that time frame we realized that's a bad plan and we made a change. We're finishing year three of that plan. Now you say to me you're getting impatient after three years?"
MacKinnon: "It's not me. It's the fans that are getting impatient."
Lowe: "And lastly (talking loudly now) I'll say that there's one other guy in hockey today that is still working in the game that has won more Stanley Cups than me. So I think I know a little bit about winning, if there's ever a concern."
Have you ever seen a more imposing example of industrial-grade denial? In Lowe's world, dissent does equal disloyalty.
Even in the video above, listen to MacTavish blubber on about how the Oilers are still paying for the five Stanley Cups the Oilers won. He alludes to the cyclical nature of the sport and how you always follow a lot of winning with a little bit of losing.
It's as if the entire management group forgets just how long ago their glory days were. It's been 23 years since the Oilers last won the Stanley Cup. It's been 25 years since Gretzky was last an Oiler. It's been a very long time since either Lowe or MacTavish played in the NHL, and even longer since they were a part of that Oiler dynasty.
If I'm an Oiler fan -- and, I really don't mind them at all -- I got even more worried watching that farce of a press conference today. I've just realized that everyone in charge of my favourite hockey team has as much value as Tim McGraw's character from Friday Night Lights.
Lowe and MacT aren't just getting jobs because of something they did a quarter century ago. They actually believe in themselves because of it.
These guys talk about hockey like daily newspaper columnists talk about print journalism.
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This is a team that still has Ryan Smyth and Shawn Horcoff on its books. Lowe has his job seemingly because he's always been an Oiler -- except for all those years when he wasn't, which kind of makes him the Michael Ignatieff of hockey -- even though he no doubt had a hand in or approved in every move Tambellini made as general manager.
Lowe also bobbled two successive offer sheets to then-restricted free agents Dustin Penner and Thomas Vanek. One worked out, and it was a terrible experiment. The second didn't work out, and Lowe got lucky with that one. Without Vanek, the Oilers saved themselves some very vital draft picks and prospects -- draft picks and prospects who are now the only reason this team has a heart beat, even if it's restricted to life support and a hospital bed.
In fact, Lowe's been around for all of Edmonton's recent years, and don't go thinking he's some kind of mad genius because of a flukey playoff run in 2006 (even if he does). I don't see the Canucks bringing back anyone from 1982 -- or 1994 -- and I don't remember the Habs hanging onto Guy Carbonneau for longer than they needed to.
The Flames, for their part, have just stopped turning to anyone with the last name Sutter. They seem to think everyone from Alberta should be a Flame, and they've been playing pre-Lockout hockey ever since the Lockout.
(And, I'm talking about the 2005 lockout.)
Say what you will about the Leafs, the Canucks, the Senators, or the Jets, but at least they seem to draft and sign players because of how well they play hockey, not because of where their birth certificate was issued.
Even the Habs have finally gotten over drafting players just based on whether they're bilingual -- a tactic that hasn't worked out since before Guy LaFleur was a Viagra spokesperson -- and now they're finally in contention for a Stanley Cup. Their captain (Brian Gionta) is American, their best two rookies are British Columbian and the Belarussian-American (Brendan Gallagher and Alex Galchenyuk) and their goaltender is from a small town in Western Canada (Carey Price).
The Habs have also finally stopped listening to their fans, at last realizing that democracy isn't at its best when it's truly a democracy.
The Oilers and Flames, meanwhile, continue to talk about their futures without any concept of what a future is (although I'll give Calgary a lot of credit for finally trading Jarome Iginla and Jay Bouwmeester).
Sure, Edmonton's had some success lately with No. 1 picks like Taylor Hall, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, and Nail Yakupov, and Lowe is no doubt pretty proud of himself ("I think it's safe to say that half the general managers in the National Hockey League would trade their roster for our roster right now").
Of course, they had to finish last -- or second last -- every year to get those picks, and all three of them were consensus Number Ones.
That's not called skill. It's a silver lining.
When this season's over, both Calgary and Edmonton will have gone playoff-less since 2009.
That's not Tambellini's fault. It's Alberta's.
This was originally posted on White Cover Magazine]]>Roger Ebert: Nobody Did it Bettertag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.30172562013-04-04T16:46:58-04:002013-04-04T17:50:17-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
What more can you say about someone who's story was summed up so well by his own words?
His own prose. His own opinions. His own critical look at everything, even himself. His fairness. His love for movies, and for their viewers.
His own thumbs, whether they were up or down.
Roger Ebert was a taken-for-granted staple. At least, for most of my life he was. He was well-established before I was born, and his TV shows with Gene Siskel and Richard Roeper were a given to be there for me if I was sick from school, or faking sick from school (and, most of the time, it was the latter). Of course, I never made an intentional attempt to watch it. It was just on, like most of TV.
But, everybody knew Roger Ebert.
Something about him was more familiar and more popular than his co-hosts. Something about his opinion mattered to you. How great was it when he'd love an under-appreciated movie you also loved when nobody else did?
He was like that. Heat. Crash. Syriana. He thought they should have all won Best Picture, and only one of them did. (It's no surprise, then, that Crash is also perhaps the most hated Best Picture winner of all-time.)
He stood up for films like Somewhere, the Chateau Marmont passion piece from Sofia Coppola. While most folks with a few inches in a newspaper called the film a snooze fest, and they weren't alone, Ebert wrote, "Coppola is a fascinating director. She sees, and we see exactly what she sees."
He defended films he cared about and they often had taken an unnecessary beating from other critics.
Of course, he could be nasty, too. All film critics should, from time to time.
The important thing about Ebert, though, was that he didn't waste his praise on films that didn't deserve it and he didn't crop dust his disgust onto anything he felt was equally opposite.
When I was 21, I had to write a paper on a Czech film by a young Milos Forman for my Political Science class. The movie was called The Fireman's Ball. It's about an elderly community of Czech public servants who are celebrating the retirement of one of their peers. We were supposed to explain how Forman used this collection of clumsy elders to explain the political and social conventions of those who lived -- and were trapped -- behind the Iron Curtain.
We all pulled off decent marks, but we all read Ebert's now-old review first.
"I'm trying to write it like Roger Ebert's review," my buddy Nick said. "But it's too damn good."
Roger Ebert was an honest critic. He was there for the movies.
How many others can say the same? (Myself included.)
At the end, he became as big as the actors and directors he profiled. He was the Trailer before all the trailers. He was the Internet before the web. He was TV when it was still television.
So, I'll say it again, because I really mean it...RIP Roger Ebert. Nobody was better.
]]>Love Actually: The CBC and the Catholic Churchtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.28645402013-03-12T21:33:24-04:002013-05-12T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
I believe in discovery and technology and innovation and science. My profession -- whether you would call me a journalist or just a human being in the 21st century -- is to question. It's to be skeptical. It's to not believe everything I'm told right away.
I believe this is healthy for all of us, not just myself.
So, on the occasion of the much-covered announcement of a new pope, I'll just come out and say it: I hate the Catholic church.
I don't hate Catholics, of course; but I find it impossible to believe things that we thought of as certainties 2,000 years ago but have since disproven, and I hate the Catholic church itself because its goal seems to be to repress us, oppress and hold us all under its gigantic thumb.
I don't think a talking snake told a naked chick to eat an apple which then corrupted society forever. I don't think Joseph's dad was somehow able to find the resources to knit him a technicolo(u)r dreamcoat in the middle of Ancient Egypt. I don't think Jonah lived inside a whale.
But, most of all, I don't want these stories told as fact. I don't want them institutionalized. I don't want them to be read once and accepted forever.
I don't think Pinocchio lived inside a whale, either. I don't think Hogwarts is real, even though I'd like it to be. I don't think Darth Vader really existed in a galaxy a long time ago and far, far away.
So, where am I going with this?
Well, I'm going straight to the front door of the CBC.
As with all things religious, they don't question the Church, because to question it would somehow infringe on our right to religion and (probably) our right to free speech. (I don't believe this. I'm just trying to think like an evolution-denying man of the cloth.) They don't dare shine a light on the hypocrisy and the blatant middle finger to common sense that is the Church and all its beliefs and -- worse -- its practices.
The Catholic church has not only committed crimes, but it's also covered them up. I'm not talking about that fluffy "Tobacco companies know they're killing you" stuff. I mean, full-on child sexual abuse. I mean, like, going to Africa and telling the most AIDS-infected continent on the planet that they couldn't use condoms because it wasn't in the Heffe's original plan some 2,000 years ago. (Or, was it a billion years ago? 5,000 years ago? I don't know, I have a hard time keeping track of the Catholic church's most recent revision of history.)
But, for the CBC -- and other news corporations like it -- that's in the past. They turn their hands up and say, "It's not our place."
Right. Lance Armstrong? That jerk was guilty. Let's fry him. The Catholic Church? Can't touch it. Religious freedom.
The CBC is supposed to stand for all of us as Canadians. It's supposed to be a megaphone for the voices of the 35 million or so people in this country, and it's supposed to be different than the United States. It's supposed to reflect our sentiments. It's supposed to have talent. It's supposed to be bold and brave.
That's a tough job, but it has to be.
The CBC is supposed to stand on its own. It should reflect us, but it shouldn't pander to us. It also shouldn't pander to the Catholic church, and it does.
We don't believe the Earth is flat, and we have no problem treating that issue like the case is finally closed. But, the Catholic Church? That archaic, rapidly crumbling tomb of dead ideas with a history of unmatched oppression and violence? Nope. Off limits.
(If it was Scientology, then by all means go nuts. That one is crazy, right?)
Only, this now-concluded quest to find a new Pontiff doesn't sit right with me, or with many Canadians who belong to many communities. And, yes, I'd consider "Non-Religious" to be a community, too.
I got the idea to write this post from a friend of mine, Jesse Brown, who works for YouthCO AIDS Society. He wrote this on Facebook, on Monday night:
"Dear CBC National,
"I'm a 26 year old white male in Vancouver BC and a faithful viewer of The National. The large amount of time you have been consistently spending on the selection of the new Pope and the Catholic Church disturbs me and makes me want to tune out from your news cast -- for good. This is a dark and criminal institution based on the oppression of those it deems unworthy. Its current establishment should be (and is) morally reprehensible to anyone with a critical eye and could be better examined by a reputable news agency such as the CBC.
"Political fluff stories such as the selection of a new benevolent pontiff are pathetically benign and leave the audience, many of whom are consistently abused and discredited by this mafia, undermined. As an openly gay man it greatly disturbs me to see over-coverage of this conclave of closeted old sexually repressed men who cover up pedophilia and engage in clandestine sex rings, all while promoting misogyny and repression. An excellent example of their disgusting hypocrisy is the recent photo-op of Pope Benedict XVI blessing Rebecca Kadaga, the politician behind the Ugandan "Kill the Gays" bill.
"Your news cast is tax payer-funded and should speak to the majority of reasonable and progressive thinking Canadians. The CBC is founded on the principal of social equality of opportunity and should present to young people a reflection of Canadian values that uplift and inspire. We could care less whether or not the anti-women, anti-gay hater Cardinal Ouellet of Quebec is in the running for Pope. Shame on him and shame on you for giving him a platform. I respectfully ask that you please reconsider the air time you spend pandering to no one."
To me, the most shocking part of this is that somebody from Vancouver watches The National.
But, really, the CBC needs to take this kind of letter seriously, because Canadians take it seriously.
Canadians like to say they care about gay rights, and I believe the majority really do. This is a first step, but it only matters to a point.
We can no longer accept our Canadian Broadcast Corporation to stand idly by while its news reports itself. They don't need stenographers. They need reporters who have their own minds and their own voices.
They need to go at the Catholic Church like they went at Graham James. To many Canadians, hockey is a religion, and a hockey coach has as much power over his players as a priest does over his choir boys. Power of any kind corrupts most of the time. Religious power corrupts all of the time.
Canada is a 21st century nation, but the CBC needs to become a 21st century network.
This was originally posted on White Cover Magazine.]]>It's Time the NHL Makes Visors Mandatorytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.28163572013-03-06T17:27:14-05:002013-05-06T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
We get it, hockey people (myself included). We know you like to act tougher than your players' dress code suggests. We know everything is a tradition for you. We know we can't tell you what a good ol' Canadian boy would do. Before you can say anything, just know this: we know.
But, please, please, please... Everybody in the NHL, for the love of whatever imaginary friend in the sky you believe in, WEAR A GODDAMN VISOR!
On Tuesday night, young gun defenceman Marc Staal took a blast to the face. The image -- when slowed down, as it has been -- is disturbing, because the puck hits Staal just above his right face and it looks like his face concaves on itself before he falls to the ice in what can only have been an absurd amount of pain chased with fear.
In the last two years, several other players have been hit in the eye/forehead/middle of the face (you know, where all the important stuff is?) with a puck.
Two of them aren't playing and their careers are in jeopardy. One of them -- Vancouver's Manny Malhotra -- suffered his injury in March of 2011, then came back and played a full season, and was then shut down after a handful of matches this year.
The other -- Philly's Chris Pronger -- can barely walk around his own house without getting a Jimmy Stewart form of vertigo.
How many more guys have to have this kind of sh*t happen to them before they put aside their pride and their temporary comfort for their long-term safety and just for common sense in general?
On the Canucks, several guys who watched Malhotra either take that rather light deflection to the face and then have his life ruined are still going rogue.
Kevin Bieksa doesn't wear a visor. Raffi Torres (who now plays for Phoenix) doesn't wear a visor. Andrew Alberts doesn't wear a visor, and both he and Bieksa are defencemen, just like Marc Staal and Chris Pronger.
Five players on the Canucks who joined after Malhotra's injury -- but were present when his coach and general manager shut him down for the 2013 NHL season -- still don't wear visors: Zach Kassian, Jason Garrison, Tom Sestito, Cam Barker, and Dale Weise.
(Recently dealt Canuck Aaron Volpatti also doesn't wear one.)
Marc Staal also has two brothers in the NHL -- Jordan and Eric, who both play for Carolina -- and neither of them wear visors.
Now, visor haters will be quick to point out that a puck to the head is a puck to the head... is a puck to the head.
But, take a look at Philadelphia's Sean Couturier. He was hit in the head by a puck in the fall of 2011. He missed a few games with a concussion, but that's it.
Watch that one right here:
Or, how about a far more gruesome one?
Here's Montreal's Josh Gorges taking a clapper to the face. Pretty brutal, right? Yeah, well, he's far better off than Malhotra, Pronger, or (I'm going to assume) Marc Staal.
The puck hits him in the helmet, but his eyes and his future are intact.
Fact is, visors don't save you from everything. They're not supposed to. But, they can still save your career. They can save you from something far worse.
As we've seen over and over and over, it's the EYES. It's that part of the face right in the front that has been left completely unprotected and open to obliteration.
Watching those videos above of Malhotra, Pronger, and Yzerman, it becomes just so painfully obvious (pun intended) that those are all completely preventable. Those aren't separated shoulders or broken ankles or even concussions. All of those injuries could be written off as occupational hazards.
But, the eye?
No way, man.
If the NHL continues to ignore this massive epidemic, and if its players are still stupid enough to carry on without sich a simple and basic level of protection... well, then I guess it's only their fault, isn't it?
This article was originally posted on White Cover Magazine.]]>The Bipolar Canucks vs The Heroic Blackhawkstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.28043262013-03-04T01:43:02-05:002013-05-03T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/the Vancouver Canucks and Chicago Blackhawks are semi-permanently linked (*I'm aware that 'semi-permanently' makes little sense). Every loss for one team is echoed with a win by the other. Each highlight reel tally by Patrick Kane is laid picture-in-picture next to Roberto Luongo's flashy glove hand. The Sedin Twins are mocked by David Bolland, and Jonathan Toews is just grumpy all the time.
The Canucks and Blackhawks trade punches 24/7. It's a rare rivalry, because while Chicago has had the upper hand in this now five-year-old affair, both Vancouver and ChiCity are home to exceptionally talented squads.
The Canucks are an enigma. Henrik Sedin is capable of turning Anze Kopitar and Drew Doughty into hockey cards and Roberto Luongo might be the most skilled goaltender of all time. Their defence is fast and furious (and, very big), and they can carry a game like almost no other team in the NHL.
For whatever reason, though, they tend to fart. The Canucks disappear once the bugle sounds.
The Blackhawks are different. In 2010, they won the Stanley Cup and took down the Canucks in what might have been the most lopsided six-game playoff series in West Coast hockey history. In 2011, they became the league's greatest eighth seed of all time, until the Kings re-defined that position the next year and slapped Vancouver in five to kick things off.
In 2013, the Blackhawks have yet to lose in the first 60 minutes. They're a mind-blowing 19-0-3 on the season, and that's included an overtime loss and an overtime win against the Canucks. Facing Vancouver, Chicago is 1-0-1. Vancouver is also 1-0-1 against the Hawks. And yet, Vancouver is stuck in that third-place pandora it owned in 2009 and 2010. They're better than almost everyone, but they're not elite every night.
That explains their strong but still disappointing 11-6-4 record, and their 4-4-2 spell in their last 10 games.
Vancouver has a heart beat, but they need to figure this whole thing out before the 48-game tryout is over.
*This was originally posted on White Cover Magazine.]]>Is Hockey a Racist Sport?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.26827982013-02-15T08:42:24-05:002013-04-17T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
Finally somebody said it. Finally somebody defended the innocent actions of Evander Kane, and finally somebody said those words we all knew we'd finally hear a hockey player say, one day. It's just too bad it had to be Kane, himself, who said them.
"I think a good portion of (the criticism of me) is because I'm black and I'm not afraid to say that," the left winger told The Hockey News. (*The story is set to come out on March 4, said The Sporting News.)
He then clarified his statements with a solid one-line just after.
"I don't feel like a victim and I don't want to be perceived as one."
Now, the defenders of the realm will be quick to throw up their arms and roll back their eyes. Oh, please, they'll say. Not everything is a racial issue. Just because he's black doesn't mean that's why he's been criticized.
They'll be quick to point out that he's been flagged for a number of off-ice indiscretions and misconducts. They'll tell you he's overreacting. They'll say it's another case of a young player with a big mouth. After all, it's easier to say that than it is to admit the truth, and the truth is not something normally uncovered by sports journalists.
It's odd, though, that people now seem to be more afraid of being politically correct than they are of being racist.
The fact is, hockey is and has always been a whites-only sport. Okay, maybe not whites-only. More, like 95-per cent-white-and-the-rest-just-whatever. Hockey is inherently a white sport, and a white Canadian one, at that. Hockey Night in Canada and its post-20-minute patriotic terrier praise good ol' Canadian boys and the way they play the sport we love.
But, take a minute and think about what the words good ol' Canadian boy mean. What's the image that comes to your mind? Who do you see, and what does he look like?
Sure, it doesn't have the word "white" in it, but neither does the word "Jesus", and I think it's fair to say he's always been depicted as rather pale for someone supposedly born in the Middle East.
Okay, it was a meathead moment. It was a little silly, and it made him look a little immature (which is fair, since Kane is 21 freakin' years old).
But, it wasn't a crime. It was nothing of note. It wasn't a DUI or an assault. It was a personal moment of indulgence and it shouldn't have been aired on social media. Boo hoo.
The fact is, hockey has never had to confront its race issues because, well, it hasn't always had them. Sure, some of us know that Willie O'Ree was the first black player in the NHL, but he's hardly a celebrity in the realm of Jackie Robinson (who broke his barrier 11 years before O'Ree) or even Roberto Clemente.
In fact, O'Ree is barely known.
And, yes, there are only a handful of black players in the league at any given moment -- Joel Ward, Jarome Iginla, P.K. Subban, Wayne Simmonds, and Devante Smith-Pelley, just to name a few -- but that doesn't mean we're not racist. It just means we're not inclusive.
Canadians have always lived with the false notion that they are morally superior when it comes to race issues than our neighbours to the south. Amistad, a hundred years (and more) of slavery, the Ku Klux Clan, Jim Crow, and the Civil Rights Movement? Those are all American things, but it doesn't mean we get to wash our hands clean and call ourselves pure from the womb out.
Our treatment of our aboriginal people (historically and still today) is deplorable. We have a history with the Clan, and we casually try to distance ourselves from phrases like "Komagata Maru" and "Japanese Internment".
And, let's not forget hockey.
In the last year and a half, Wayne Simmonds (a black player for the Philadelphia Flyers) has had a banana thrown at him, and Joel Ward (Washington) and Malcolm Subban (the OHL's Belleville Bulls) have been called the n-word by hateful waves of people on Twitter.
Does this sound like an enlightened country, or like the chorus of "Strange Fruit"?
In the video above, CBC anchor Diana Swain calls the Joel Ward affair a "low for the sport," but is it? It seems like it's status quo.
"I'm not surprised," said Ward's mother, Celia, at the time. "He grew up with it."
As a hockey nation, we also tend to completely dismiss the character and toughness of European players and, specifically, Russian players. (And, yes, French-Canadian players, too.) We call this analysis, but that's not really true. Russian players are treated from their draft day like they have to prove something over and above their Canadian counterparts, or like they have to atone for previous players from Moscow and the surrounding area who were viewed as soft or fragile or Prima Donnas, despite any evidence to the contrary.
Is there really much difference between Henrik Sedin and Ryan Nugent-Hopkins? What about Sergei Fedorov and Steve Yzerman? Or, Teemu Selanne and Ryan Getzlaf? Gretzky and Kurri?
Let's face it: hockey is an extension of us, and we all still have a lot of work to do.
]]>How Can the Pope Resign? People Are Still Using Condoms!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.26670312013-02-12T12:19:27-05:002013-04-14T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/voluntarily using condoms, but his "effort" to "apologize" to a large number of sexually abused (OK, raped) children went largely scoffed at and he's now retiring at the end of February.
These are tough times for the Catholic Church, as well. They're dealing with a world of people who are now more than ever (myself included) questioning whether a man lived inside a whale for three days, a talking snake gave bad advice to a naked chick, or that Joseph's dad was somehow able to knit him a Technicolo(u)r Dreamcoat in the middle of the Ancient Egyptian desert.
"Under his administration, the Roman Catholic Church has become increasingly irrelevant to a growing number of the world's 1.2 billion (nominally) faithful.
"It has apologized for the legions of children sexually abused by priests and brothers, paying out multi-millions, yet never brought those predators to a reckoning.
"It has reversed every hint of theological liberalism, essentially erasing Vatican II from history, in a fierce embrace of the rigidly doctrinaire."
]]>A Love Letter to the Pennytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.26136442013-02-04T12:34:13-05:002013-04-06T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
I know you're busy, but I couldn't let you go without saying something.
You were always by my side, even when I didn't want you to be. Weighing down my pockets. Making my palms smell like pissed-on copper. When I held you, my mitts got all clammy and ugly. It was like I could taste you just by looking at you, and it always made me cringe. It always gave me that cold tooth feeling I get when I'm force-fed fluoride at the dentist or when I hear chalk streak across a black board.
I always tried to get away from you, but there was no getting rid of you, was there?
You'd always find your way back. Every time I'd accidentally drop you, I'd look at you on the street and on the sidewalk and I'd think to myself, "Somebody else would really need that. You shouldn't waste money." And so, I'd pick you up. I felt guilty, so I kept you. I'd hate it, because I didn't want you, you filthy penny.
But, of course, some sense of I've done good would come over me. Maybe it was this completely idiotic thought that I was doing you a favour. This is ridiculous, of course. You're a freaking coin. But -- much like that Ikea lamp left out in the cold or that pencil I always lose -- I treated you like a human. All of you pennies.
I'd make sure you found good homes. When I had no use for you -- and, really, who had any use for you? -- I'd give you over to the next best thing. Maybe it was one of those charity bins with the coin slot at Tim Horton's or McDonald's. Yeah, if I could help build a Ronald McDonald House in Regina, I knew my pennies were going to the rest place... to the right home.
I will admit it, Penny. I hated you. Oh, did I hate you.
You weren't even round, were you? No, you were this damn ugly little orangey-brown mess with a sort-of square border. You were the disappointment we always saw when we fumbled to awkwardly pull coins out of our pockets -- whether we were in the Drive Thru, trying to buy bus tickets, or paying for another one of those delicious double doubles at said Horton's coffeeshop. We always wanted dimes or nickels, and we especially wanted quarters. But, no. We always pulled out pennies. Those damn little pennies.
You, Penny. We always pulled out you, even though we had tried so hard to get rid of you.
I will admit, there were times when I thought, "Please. Just go away. Leave me alone. Take the hint and disappear so I don't have to tell you to your face."
At first, I thought it would be great. Sure, my cost of things would go up, because I'd assume vendors and store owners would take this as a nice excuse to round up all their costs to the nearest $0.05. It would be worth it, I thought. I'll be rid of that bi*ch forever. I need to move on, anyway. More nickels. More dimes. And, especially more quarters. Maybe even more bills.
And then, I started thinking...
Without you, Penny, I would lose a friend I always took for granted. Maybe you were comforting me while my mind was somewhere else, like the dog at my feet or the alphabet in my soup.
There were all those times when I'd buy something from a corner store, and the total cost would come to $4.96. I'd tell the guy behind the counter, "Don't worry about it" and I'd leave him with his four cents. But then, when they'd owe me $0.74, they'd toss me two quarters, two dimes, and four goddamn pennies.
Do you remember that?
Boy, I hated you. I really wanted to get rid of you. But, you were actually there with me, weren't you? You and I were alone against those evil, cheap little business owners along the highway who were so gracious to receive and too petty to give back. You needed a friend, and you needed a home, and I certainly couldn't leave you there.
I realize that now.
And so, on Monday, the government will take you back and melt you and fuse you and put you to use in some other way.
Goodbye, Race Horse. Hello, Elmer's.
It'll be like you never existed. Our bills will go unfolded into our pockets and we'll keep our change in our wallets again, because you won't be there to weigh us down or bulk up the crotch in our jeans.
Everyone else will talk about you like a cold they once had and then got rid of, but I'll remember, Penny.
Thank you for your years of service. I will miss you. But, at least my hands won't smell or stick quite as much as they did when you were around.
http://huff.to/YOxPGc]]>The MLB Is the Biggest Cheater in Baseballtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24421472013-01-09T17:55:36-05:002013-03-11T05:12:01-04:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/"Let's face it: Hall of Fame is a mess."
That's the title of ESPN's Jayston Stark's latest little ditty, detailing how Cooperstown failed to induct anyone on Wednesday for its literally famed annals. (No, not anals. Sicko.) That's right. Zero. Nobody will be going to the Hall of Fame in 2013.
Here's Stark:
"The votes are in. The earth is still rumbling. Now let's try to digest the magnitude of what just happened here:
"A man who hit 762 home runs wasn't elected to the Hall of Fame... A pitcher who won seven Cy Young Awards wasn't elected to the Hall of Fame. Barry Bonds is the all-time leader in home runs, but he fell far short of getting elected in his first time on the Hall of Fame ballot. A man who hit 609 home runs only got 12.5 percent of the vote... A catcher who made 12 All-Star teams missed election by 98 votes.
"It boggles the mind. Doesn't it? We were just presented the most star-studded Hall of Fame ballot in maybe 75 years. And NOBODY got elected?
"It's enough to make you wonder: What kind of Hall of Fame are we building here?"
Well, Jayson, you ask an interesting question. The real answer, though, is another question: What kind of Hall of Fame have we been building for a while?
Now, I'm all with Stark here. Steroids or not, Barry Bonds should be in the Hall of Fame, and I'd include others: Sammy Sosa, Rafael Palmeiro, Roger Clemens, Mark McGwire. Whatever.
Let's stop pretending that we're so offended by our All-Stars cheating over an entire career and over an entire life.
Steroids are to sports what sex is to the White House. It's a far easier scandal to report on and to comment on than something of actual importance. It's a distraction to avert our eyes from what we knows is there but don't want to see.
Now, steroids should be outlawed. Actually, they are outlawed. The MLB has allowed them to be used for a long time, though, and now it's crying foul. Now, it's crying wolf and "Mama, there's somebody in my bed" and "Ze Germans are here."
Baseball can't pretend steroids are a new phenomenon. There were drugs and enhancers a long time ago, and everyone knows certain superstars were using them in the '70s and before.
Reggie Jackson was the first big timer to be accused of such a thing.
Willie Mays used methamphetamines, and he then was "instrumental" in spreading it to whoever wanted it.
But, when Stark asks "What kind of Hall of Fame are we building?" he's forgetting how low standards have been for some time. He's forgetting how low they've always been.
He's forgetting, but he also knows it.
"Bud Selig let it happen. The union let it happen. The owners let it happen," he says of the '90s steroid rash. "The managers let it happen. The agents let it happen. The media let it happen. Front offices across the continent let it happen. And the players never stepped up to stop it from happening."
Now, while a player is in the middle of a 40-home run year, we debate whether or not he'll keep it up and whether or not he'll get into Cooperstown. Craig Biggio deserves to be in the Hall. And, what about Mike Piazza, an all-around stud who never did anything wrong except for dodging the bat Roger Clemens threw at him in 2000? Jeff Bagwell deserves to get in. Curt Schilling, too.
So do Barry Bonds, McGwire, Sosa, and Palmeiro. So do Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe.
Let's stop being offended. Let's quit the ruse.
The MLB is the biggest cheater in baseball. They're just better at hiding the syringes.
This was originally posted on White Cover Magazine.]]>The NHL Still Deserves to Pay for This Lockouttag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24196852013-01-06T06:34:19-05:002013-03-08T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
------------------------------
I know the NHL is really happy with itself right now, and I can't stand for that.
Gary Bettman and Donald Fehr were eerily similar to nine-year-olds fighting on the playground. They thought they were both right, and nobody else could understand.
The players, meanwhile, launched their greatest-ever assault on fans' intelligence.
They actually tried to swing our emotions by donning jerseys tattooed with "#ThePlayers" on it. They actually released YouTube videos informing us that the owners were locking them out, not the other way around. The players actually tried to handle billions of dollars in revenue with about as much grace as the side of a building handles a cannonball.
The players think like blunt instruments because the players are paid to be blunt instruments.
The owners think like corrupt businessmen because, well, they are corrupt businessmen. Unfortunately for them, however, their jargon is too far above their employees' uneducated minds.
This was a battle of Cheese and Cheddar, and neither one realized how much they had in common. Neither one realized their fans were the ones grading them. Neither one gave each other -- or their viewers -- any modicum of respect.
They didn't learn anything and they won't learn anything because they won't pay for their sins like the rest of us do.
It was a damn shame this had to happen. It's even more of a shame it will happen again when this new agreement inevitably expires.
]]>The Meeting That Could End the NHL's Uniontag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.22374962012-12-04T11:31:08-05:002013-02-03T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
Donald Fehr has the unenviable position of heading up a union of guys who have no business calling themselves a union anymore. In fact, they're not called a union. They're a Players Association. They have too much money. Too much fame. Too much to lose. Dock workers have unions. Coal miners, maybe. Auto assemblers. Not NHLers. The best make over $10 million a year, including endorsements. The lowest tier make pigeon.
"The NHLPA has agreed to a meeting on Tuesday in New York that should facilitate dialogue between players and owners," Fehr said in a statement posted by NHL.com. "Neither the Commissioner nor I will be present, although each side will have a limited number of staff or counsel present.
"There will be owners attending this meeting who have not previously done so, which is encouraging and which we welcome. We hope that this meeting will be constructive and lead to a dialogue that will help us find a way to reach an agreement."
The positive of this is that the league's Billionaire Boys Club is finally letting its fringe owners into its closed door meetings. Winnipeg's Mark Chipman, Tampa's Jeff Vinik, Toronto's (majority leader) Larry Tanenbaum, and Calgary's Murray Edwards are all invited.
The other plus is that the owners and players are finally meeting one-on-one. No interference. No Bill Daly.
The negative, though, is that Donald Fehr is now irrelevant. The entire union is irrelevant, if this works. The players and owners are finally bringing it on home, and the PC'ness that we've been thrown and tossed is out the window.
Fehr, of course, doesn't have a Daly. He doesn't have a right-hand man who can stand in front of the media and toss barbs to the other side. He has to be on all the time, and he has no backup plan.
Donald Fehr can't win this. Only, he seems smart enough to know it, otherwise why would he be sending the players memos warning them against NHL dogma? His cautionary words sound like a grandmother warning you about emails viruses.
The players don't seem to know this. They think they can actually pull it off. They think the owners have more to lose than them, which just isn't true. the players are a wet noodle going up against a chainsaw.
And they'll fire Fehr when this is all over, because that's how the players have always handled losses No Stanley Cup? Fire the coach. Haven't scored in a while? Get me off this line. Didn't win the Lockout? Fire Bob Goodenow. And, Ted Saskin. And, Donald Fehr.
The players are blunt objects who are paid to be blunt objects. The owners are businessmen. This is what they do. Hopefully, after Tuesday, the Sidney Crosby and Co. will see that.
The entire union is done. That's the bad news. Or, wait... that's good news, isn't it?
]]>Crossed Off my Bucket List? Hearing "Hey Jude" Livetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21904942012-11-26T12:42:54-05:002013-01-26T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/
It was a callback to the time when McCartney and The Beatles were McCartney and The Beatles. Even the shots of him with Wings appeared just oh-so British Invasion. That's how it's always been. It was a moment in time... that much is clear now. It might not have been possible again. They had their lightning in a bottle, and look where it's led Paul, specifically.
Too often, we see older stars as they are now. It's realistic, but when is that ever fun?
We've seen McCartney play at London's Opening Ceremonies, when he was just OK. We've seen him at various charity shows. We've seen "Hey Jude" at countless outdoor concerts... on television. But, they always seem so far away. They always seem like they're in a different world, even if they're down the street.
He has appeared a little weathered. A little grumpy. He can be forgiven, because he's 70 damn years old. Of course, that's not what appeared at BC Place on Sunday.
No, this was young McCartney again. And, the new one. It was vintage and voyage. There was that same boyish smile you see in early photos from their time in Liverpool, or the psychedelic German clubs, or their first appearance at Shea Stadium.
There was a floppy-haired rocker who seemed very well aware of who he was and where he'd been, but was also transfixed on enjoying the moment.
For the audience, you got to cross another one off your bucket list. Hearing "Hey Jude" live? How can that not be on there? Is there another song anywhere in the universe that begs the same effect, or comes with the same aura, when its played to people who've paid to see and hear it?
"Hey Jude," and, "Get Back," and, in his best performance and the show's best fireworks display of the night, "Live and Let Die."
He played for three hours. Three hours. Most 70-year-olds you know are worried about the colour of their shuffleboard broom. Paul, meanwhile, has more energy than Bruno Mars jumping in front of a train for you.
On Sunday night, Paul McCartney had his way with 60,000 Canadians. They're all now on the other side of the bed, enjoying a cigarette.
Photos courtesy of Robert Whitaker on behalf of LIFE Books]]>Sportsnet Sells its Soul for Windows 8tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.20501432012-10-31T13:07:33-04:002012-12-31T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/next newspaper. We know, Rogers, that you don't want to announce cutbacks or firings. We know times must be tight, and finances must be pinched. We know you're losing money.
Aren't you? If not, then why have you sold out in the worst way imaginable?
Explain to me, Sportsnet, why you have given away the home page of your website -- your URL and therefore your entire online identity -- as a bundle cog in some (hopefully for your soul) luxurious advertising package with Microsoft and Windows 8?
If you go to Sportsnet.ca right now, you'll be greeted with what I have been the past two days. It's a snappy new browser and interface. It actually looks all right at first, until you realize that it's not Sportsnet's new home page, but instead an artistic fuster cluck that was designed with no real insight or outlook. (Except, of course, for the profit of the today.)
Sportsnet now appears to be a weak, feeble version of what was once a flagship sports station. It's a shadow of its former, confident self, like Jordan with the Washington Wizards or Markus Naslund on the New York Rangers.
It's the opposite of The Score, a one-time dominant Canadian TV hub that has now become the world's best North American sports app and blog site.
Then again, this mess all makes sense. Rogers, are you going broke? Is that what you're telling us? It's what it looks like, after all.
Why else would you be selling your brand spankin' new magazines for $2.99 at my closest corner store? (I thought you valued your journalism.) Why else would you have ever featured an online segment called "All Day Breakfast," which was basically just an excuse for your interns to masturbate while writing.
Why else would you be throwing everything into the hands of a medium you clearly don't understand?
If you don't believe me, Rogers, then understand this: you are failing your readers. Is that not the one no-no for any self-proclaimed news corporation?
"Hey, I know we've screwed you guys over enough over the last six months, but here's an infuriating full-screen ad just to twist the knife a bit deeper," wrote on guy, pretending to channel Rogers in his submission.
"Yeah, the new 'Windows' screen is incredibly annoying, and surprisingly hard to escape," responded another.
One guy summed it up perhaps perfectly:
"This Error Message is brought to you by....."
*A longer version of this post appears in White Cover Magazine.]]>Why Everyone Loves the Oakland A'stag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.19586502012-10-11T13:44:33-04:002012-12-11T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/Your browser does not support iframes.
Somewhere, somehow -- in some corner of the baseball universe or the baseball-watching universe -- there is somebody who does not understand why everyone loves the Oakland Athletics.
And, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe not everyone does love the Athletics. That would make sense. I'm sure Detroit doesn't love them, or anyone else in California. Jealousy is a funny thing. I'm sure there are San Francisco Giants fans who are sick of hearing about them.
Maybe everyone in orange and black in the Bay Area is saying, "Screw Michael Lewis's book, we won the World Series only two years ago. Where's our movie starring Brad Pitt? Or, you know, somebody younger."
Really, though, if I can go back to naively assuming that the A's are now everyone's favourite team... Moneyball is not the reason. It's not their salary or their ongoing rivalry with the concept of capitalism. That's too easy.
Rich vs. Poor. Blah blah boring. If you want that, go watch Les Mis.
No, the real reason is that this team -- this Athletics Franchise, as a business and a family -- seems to do this every four or five years. If they're lucky, they string two seasons together. Once, three. But, they do it with a different manager and a different cast of contributors (i.e. players) every single time.
It's incredible. The As are baseball's shooting star. Look now, because you may not see them again.
With other teams -- such as the Yankees, Cardinals, Phillies, Red Sox, and Rangers recently -- when they lose, you think, "Well, they could be back next year."
With Oakland, you don't have that luxury. They don't have that luxury. There is no next year for Oakland. Everything they have goes into this one season. Every time they make the playoffs, it's extremely conceivable that it might be the last time you see them for a while.
Every year they lose, you know each one of those guys on the roster feels it in their gut and in their heart, and you can see it on their faces.
It's become a custom now for losing teams to hang their heads after a series loss, in any sport. I remember it, I was sitting there live when the Canucks lost the Stanley Cup to Boston in Vancouver. As genuine as it probably is, it always seems like a photo-op.
It always seems like the losing team is expected to do that. You know, to sit in its own dugout or take a knee on their side of the ice and reflect on their loss, and watch the victors celebrate and pour champagne over their high-priced superstars.
With the A's, though, it's not a photo-op. You have the sense that these guys are hard-working, blue collar-type players who will be substitute teaching in San Jose when it's all over.
They're the only team that, when they lose, has to start all over again. They can't just go out and buy their heroes, unless you would have considered the heroics of Coco Crisp or Seth Smith predictable.
If the A's lose, they go home. And, not for 2012 but, like, forever. They were done. The Tigers would have done to Oakland exactly what they did to them in 2006, and exactly what the Red Sox, Twins, and Yankees did before them, from 2001-2003.
Every time Oakland hits the playoffs running, there's a sense of desperation.
And, there's a feeling of loneliness with this team, too. They're not like everyone else. They're not in the fold. They're like the black sheep of the Major Leagues. When they lose, people rip apart their system. They call them foolish for trying to win with things like stats and computers, and research.
Oh, God forbid.
No other team has a leash as short as Oakland's. Or, an expiry date like Oakland's.
Their whole future is riding on every swing and every at-bat.
And so, when you take that desperation into the bottom of the ninth inning, down 3-1 in the game and 2-1 in the series, and you come out of it 20 minutes later with a 4-3 win and a tie...
Boy, that's a miracle. And, it's the result of hard work.
*This was originally posted on White Cover Magazine...]]>Chick-fil-A: Still Serving up Hate With a Side of Friestag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.19244182012-10-01T12:09:16-04:002012-12-01T05:12:01-05:00Kolby Solinskyhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kolby-solinsky/Los Pollos Hermanos from Breaking Bad.
I hope that link doesn't hurt the Hermanos' reputation. Drugs are a business (at least, on TV). Hatred? That's something else.
On Friday, the puppet poultry establishment released another statement opposing same-sex marriage, this one printed on Mike Huckabee's website (umm, why?). In it, a Gustavo Fring wannabe said the following (from the Huffington Post):
"There continues to be erroneous implications in the media that Chick-fil-A changed our practices and priorities in order to obtain permission for a new restaurant in Chicago. That is incorrect. Chick-fil-A made no such concessions, and we remain true to why we are and who we have been."
Oh, good. Thank you for clearing that up. We were almost going to eat there again.
To be fair to Chick-fil-A (no, really, to be fair), it's not that they have an opinion or just that the opinion is firmly rooted against same-sex marriage that should irk us. Obviously, the chickens themselves don't feel this way.
(Unless, of course, you're referring to the 1942 Looney Tunes show, The Ducktators, starring Hitler Duck and Mussolini Goose).
The employees don't all feel this way. It's the ones at the top -- the few who wrote the press releases and had somebody else send it out so it couldn't be traced back to them, at least not immediately. It's just like how Jesse Pinkman and Walter White don't use their home phones, or why they wear yellow pesticide-proof gear during every cook.
But, Chick-fil-A didn't just think those thoughts. They weren't even asked, actually. They just let them fly (pun intended).
At least when Mitt Romney stands out against gay marriage, he can afford to do so under the guise that he was asked about it. Then, he can at least say, "If you don't like my answer, that's too bad" and leave it at that.
But, Chick-fil-A? Really? The harmless chicken store that you only go to accidentally? The Fred Claus to Nando's Santa?
"I think we are inviting God's judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say, 'We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage,' and I pray God's mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about."
... Really?
Honestly... you're a chicken store. You sell undercooked squawk. Nobody cares what you think about gay marriage so stop shoving it down our throats.
In an odd way, selling meth is more admirable than Chick-fil-A's (assumed) flagrant disapproval of the video "What What? In the Butt." At least meth dealers are meth dealers. At least a chicken restaurant acting as a front for something severely more sinister is a good front which enables them to make more money.
At least the bad guys in Breaking Bad are capable of loving someone or something other than the sound of their own voice.
