March 2009 Archives
So, now it all makes sense. In the end, it's about the insults.
"To be honest, the factual content of Howard Berger's latest blog doesn't really matter - moreso than in November," a member of the local limo-driver cadre told me. "With so much competition out there on the internet, people with a proven inability to provide actual analysis about the sport they cover will resort to trolling their readers to drive hits to their columns and blogs. People might not like it, but those fucking sheep keep coming back for more."
What a shock. Until that beautiful day when the eulogy is delivered on Howard Berger's career, the proprietors of Eklund's Magical World of Make Believe and the Fan 590 will keep returning to that well that Berger keeps filled with warmed-over bullshit. In Detroit, Mitch Albom was raked over the coals for inventing a story about a college basketball game. Here in Toronto, Howard Berger has been able to keep his job and maintain a high-flying limo-riding lifestyle despite his inability to get his facts straight in his blogs and radio reports.
"Going on air and claiming Bob Gainey was taking the Leafs GM job? Libeling Sean Avery? Relying on anonymous sources and attributing quotes to them when there is absolutely no need to grant the shield of anonymity? No big deal. Look at the hits he's getting."
When asked if the intoxicating effect of being able to call Berger a moron in the comments section of his blog compensates a little for the fans disenchantment with the quality of the local sports coverage, my unnecessarily anonymous pal said, "he doesn't even worry about stuff like that. I don't think Berger even reads the comments that people take the time to leave below his work. He doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks. All he cares about is the traffic that he generates for a made-up rumour website."
And you wonder why Eklund - perhaps the best at substituting lies and innuendo for substance - allows someone to drag his bad name even further through the mud? Why is it important for Eklund to provide a platform for a dude who professes to not watch the sport he covers? Well, if you're really bad at your job, it always helps to have someone even worse than you around to deflect some of the attention away.
The bottom line is still the thickest line at Eklund's Magical World of Make-Believe, perhaps never moreso than in our current economy. Convincing idiots to pay $20 for made-up trade rumours that they can get for free from TSN easily takes precedence over providing quality hockey analysis. Or, why start now, anyway?
Berger started blogging ostensibly for the opportunity to this new medium is said to present.
It wouldn't surprise me if he's snickering under his breath right now.
"To be honest, the factual content of Howard Berger's latest blog doesn't really matter - moreso than in November," a member of the local limo-driver cadre told me. "With so much competition out there on the internet, people with a proven inability to provide actual analysis about the sport they cover will resort to trolling their readers to drive hits to their columns and blogs. People might not like it, but those fucking sheep keep coming back for more."
What a shock. Until that beautiful day when the eulogy is delivered on Howard Berger's career, the proprietors of Eklund's Magical World of Make Believe and the Fan 590 will keep returning to that well that Berger keeps filled with warmed-over bullshit. In Detroit, Mitch Albom was raked over the coals for inventing a story about a college basketball game. Here in Toronto, Howard Berger has been able to keep his job and maintain a high-flying limo-riding lifestyle despite his inability to get his facts straight in his blogs and radio reports.
"Going on air and claiming Bob Gainey was taking the Leafs GM job? Libeling Sean Avery? Relying on anonymous sources and attributing quotes to them when there is absolutely no need to grant the shield of anonymity? No big deal. Look at the hits he's getting."
When asked if the intoxicating effect of being able to call Berger a moron in the comments section of his blog compensates a little for the fans disenchantment with the quality of the local sports coverage, my unnecessarily anonymous pal said, "he doesn't even worry about stuff like that. I don't think Berger even reads the comments that people take the time to leave below his work. He doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks. All he cares about is the traffic that he generates for a made-up rumour website."
And you wonder why Eklund - perhaps the best at substituting lies and innuendo for substance - allows someone to drag his bad name even further through the mud? Why is it important for Eklund to provide a platform for a dude who professes to not watch the sport he covers? Well, if you're really bad at your job, it always helps to have someone even worse than you around to deflect some of the attention away.
The bottom line is still the thickest line at Eklund's Magical World of Make-Believe, perhaps never moreso than in our current economy. Convincing idiots to pay $20 for made-up trade rumours that they can get for free from TSN easily takes precedence over providing quality hockey analysis. Or, why start now, anyway?
Berger started blogging ostensibly for the opportunity to this new medium is said to present.
It wouldn't surprise me if he's snickering under his breath right now.
"Put your mike on so you can play this tomorrow."
There will likely be a lot of ink spilled about Ron Wilson's epic punk-out of Working Class Howard tonight, but this is the money quote. It shows that his was no garden variety 'coach blowing a headpipe' moment. Unlike those linked examples, at no point does Wilson lose control. His goading of Berger goes beyond mere heat of the moment banter, and devastatingly KOs Berger by noting that as embarrassed as Berger should be by the exchange, WCH will nonetheless spin this into interminable radio spots and columns in the days to come. He has to.Such is the central fact of a career built more on sensationalism and invective than reporting and insight. Wilson displays a trained eye for identifying an opponent's weakness and exploitng it for public humiliation. Basically, he told Howard to go home and get his fucking shine box.
The whole segment is a fascinating insight into a man who, by the evidence of this season, is proud, shrewd, and not a little cruel. It's certainly been easy to enjoy Wilson verbally clunking the mittenstringers heads together like Moe. The two questions included in this brief excerpt ("So, did you get annoyed at all those penalties?" and "Did you notice there were a lot of empty seats tonight?") are depressingly typical of the standard level of discourse at these things, so lord knows it's pretty fun to see Ronnie kick out the jams.
However, you wonder if in the long term the Leafs wouldn't be better served by a coach who simply didn't give a fuck about this type of nonsense. Wilson's willingness to engage with the standard operating trolling of WCH and Co could easily be something that hangs him down the road, when his status as head coach isn't as assured. But those are concerns for a later date. In the meantime, this is a lot more interesting than watching Paul Maurice play pattycake, isn't it?
There will likely be a lot of ink spilled about Ron Wilson's epic punk-out of Working Class Howard tonight, but this is the money quote. It shows that his was no garden variety 'coach blowing a headpipe' moment. Unlike those linked examples, at no point does Wilson lose control. His goading of Berger goes beyond mere heat of the moment banter, and devastatingly KOs Berger by noting that as embarrassed as Berger should be by the exchange, WCH will nonetheless spin this into interminable radio spots and columns in the days to come. He has to.Such is the central fact of a career built more on sensationalism and invective than reporting and insight. Wilson displays a trained eye for identifying an opponent's weakness and exploitng it for public humiliation. Basically, he told Howard to go home and get his fucking shine box.
The whole segment is a fascinating insight into a man who, by the evidence of this season, is proud, shrewd, and not a little cruel. It's certainly been easy to enjoy Wilson verbally clunking the mittenstringers heads together like Moe. The two questions included in this brief excerpt ("So, did you get annoyed at all those penalties?" and "Did you notice there were a lot of empty seats tonight?") are depressingly typical of the standard level of discourse at these things, so lord knows it's pretty fun to see Ronnie kick out the jams.
However, you wonder if in the long term the Leafs wouldn't be better served by a coach who simply didn't give a fuck about this type of nonsense. Wilson's willingness to engage with the standard operating trolling of WCH and Co could easily be something that hangs him down the road, when his status as head coach isn't as assured. But those are concerns for a later date. In the meantime, this is a lot more interesting than watching Paul Maurice play pattycake, isn't it?
New York
Picture Sean Avery sitting alone at his dressing room stall in Uniondale on Thursday night as he prepares for his first NHL game in three months. As he laces up his skates, iPod attached to his ear, his teammates slowly file out onto the ice while early-arriving fans grab their seats to watch their favourite NHLers (and the New York Islanders) take their warm-up. As the players fire shots off the glass and skate laps to the accompaniment of testosterone fuelled metal and rap blasting from the arena loudspeakers, Avery prepares for the game in silence. Except for the Sigur Ros album coming through his earphones.
That is Sean Avery in a nutshell. While his teammates gear themselves up with the usual fist-pumping 80s metal that still rules arenas throughout the NHL, Avery prefers the mellow and nuanced warbling of Reykjavik's favourite purveyors of classical-infused post-rock. Instead of pumping his fist to Armageddon It, Avery prefers his apocalyptic imagery sung in a mixture of gibberish and Icelandic. The dude literally walks to a different tune.
Pretty Vacant
I may be alone on this one, but I am happy to see Sean Avery back in the NHL. While his many detractors cite his big mouth, obnoxious attitude and often reckless on-ice behaviour as reasons why Avery doesn't belong in the NHL, I tend to cite his big mouth, obnoxious attitude and often reckless on-ice behaviour as evidence that he is the most fascinating and important player ever to lace up a pair of skates at the highest level. Sean Avery is punk rock. Sean Avery is the Sex Pistols. On the Bill Grundy show. Sean Avery scares the shit out of the hockey establishment.
Seriously.
Sean Avery is important. Until a player comes out of the closet or a woman cracks the roster of an NHL team, no one will have done more to subvert the idiotic hegemonic masculinity of the hockey world. And it is about time.
No Feelings
It might seem strange placing this mantle on Avery, considering the oafish sexism that landed him in all this trouble in the first place. He crossed the line last December when he referred to his ex-girlfriend as sloppy-seconds, and I'm not going to defend his comments. But what disappointed me most at the time wasn't so much the vulgarity of the comment itself, but more the out-of-character witlessness of the whole episode. Watch Avery's appearance on the Hour, where he comes across as bright, thoughtful and funny. Compare that man to the one who stood before the throng of microphones in Calgary, with a moronic smirk on his face, and dropped that ugly one-liner barely worthy of a frat-boy let alone a man who recently lamented about the disappointment of not reading Moby Dick in high school. It just didn't seem right.
Holidays in the Sun
Everyone knows what happened next: Avery was suspended, booted from the Stars, and ordered to take part in an anger-management counselling program. He has arguably received more relative punishment than any other player in the history of the NHL. His former fellow-troublemaker on the Stars, Steve Ott, received a one game suspension yesterday for trying to pop an opponent's eyeball out of his head. One game. One.
Avery, of course, was suspended six games and his Stars teammates voted not to let him back in the dressing room once his suspension was served. Avery was effectively barred from hockey for two months, and then had to toil in the minors for a month before the Rangers scooped him off the recall waiver wire. Almost three months total out of the NHL.
Problems
The hockey world is generally forgiving. Todd Bertuzzi served 20 games for breaking Steve Moore's neck and was subsequently chosen for the 2006 Canadian Olympic Hockey team. Rick Tocchet was welcomed back into the NHL fraternity after his involvement with a gambling ring. Many players have continued their careers unscathed after drunk-driving convictions and spousal abuse charges. The crimes of Sean Avery pale in comparison to all of these transgressions, yet I have no doubt that he will remain an outsider. He will never be forgiven the way Bertuzzi, Tocchet, MacTavish and Roy were, welcomed back with open arms by the league, fans and media. And that is outrageous.
Bodies
The most curious thing to come out of the whole Calgary mess was the discovery that the NHL and the media that covers the game are deeply concerned about the treatment of women in our society. I mean, after all, that is why Avery was suspended, right? A league that promotes itself using scantily clad cheerleaders and a media that can't grasp why the word pansy could be construed as offensive were suddenly all up in arms about Avery's nasty comments. It was all bullshit, obviously, but it is interesting because I honestly believe that gender is a major reason why Avery is such an outcast; he doesn't fit the macho template that we've created for our athletes, and he's paying the price for breaking the mould.
Just think of Avery's crimes, and then consider the outrage that pours from the pie-holes of the Mittenstringers and league personnel. Don Cherry has said that Avery has no honour, while Bobby Clarke told TSN that "[Avery's] making a fool of the game. He crosses the line all the time. He's an idiot... If you get into people's families and stuff like that you're crossing the line." As the sadly Blinking Watchdog of the Canadian Sports Media pointed out:
To listen to Avery's critics, you get the sense a gag rule is required. Fine him every time he opens his gob. Suspend him, if necessary.
But what about the people judging him?
Clarke once explained why one of his coaches, Roger Neilson, who had cancer, had been fired by saying: "We didn't tell him to go get cancer. ... We feel sorry for him, but, then he went goofy on us."
Avery's new coach (and former TSN talking head) John Tortorella labelled Avery ridiculous and urged the NHL to suspend him after his comments. Damien Cox called him a blight on the sport, but to give him credit, Cox seemed confused by the uproar around Avery and can't really be considered a hypocrite like some of his fellow columnists and talking heads. Cox is at least consistent in his condemnation of deviant behaviour both on the ice and off. On the other hand, people like Clarke and Grapes go out of their way to defend the abhorrent actions of their favourite rough and tumble NHLers. Grapes defended Chris Simon after he attempted to behead Ryan Hollwegg and put a bounty on Alex Ovechkin last Saturday night because the kid is happy after scoring a goal. Clarke repeatedly defended Steve Downie, intentionally broke a dude's ankle and tried to kill Eric Lindros.
Submission
Take a look at Avery's rap-sheet and try to find one event that comes close to Bertuzzi's assault on Steve Moore, Chris Simon's chop on Hollweg, or Clarke's slash on Kharlamov. Sure there are some ugly incidents, including his nasty comments about French Canadians, but the amount of ink spilled and air wasted in condemnation seems out of whack to me, especially considering the sources.
I honestly think that the hatred of Avery stems less from his on-ice activity and has more to do with the fact that he wears nail-polish and has an interest in fashion. He wishes he read more, listens to cultish post-rock, and enjoys modern art.
Though he told George Stroumboulopoulos that he isn't "that gay", I think the negative reaction toward Avery stems from the fact that he might be just a little too gay for the hockey establishment. Hockey players are socialized from an early age to be tough and masculine. Diverting from the norm is not tolerated.
I know this isn't groundbreaking, but think about the way we fetishize macho behaviour in hockey. We idolize the tough and rugged, and belittle the weak as less than manly. Homophobic and sexist terms are used to insult weaker players. Hell, some players get it from all sides: To a generation of Leafs fans, Wendel Clark was their favourite player because he played the game violently and viciously. To that same generation of Habs fans, Wendel Clark is the punchline to a homophobic joke about Toller Cranston.
But you don't have to take my word for it. Here are some interesting excerpts from any essay entitled "Deep Play" in PeeWee ice hockey by sociologists Alan G. Ingham and Alison Dewar (the essay is included in the book Through the Eyes of Youth and doesn't appear to be available online. I've included page numbers, but sorry, no link):
Sociologists have long made the case that we are born male or female, but we learn to be a man or a woman. Our sex is a biological given, but our gender is a social construction. What emerges then is a concept of hegemonic masculinity, not as a male role, but as a particular version of masculinity to which others - among them women, young and effeminate as well as homosexual men - are subordinated. Because a particular version of masculinity is socially constructed as the preferred version of masculinity, prestige or status is acquired by conforming to the ideal type.(Page 20)
In short, hegemonic masculinity is not only a caricature of heterosexuality, but it also promotes homophobia. (Page 24)
...there is clearly a subcultural socialization process in ice hockey that reproduces both a hegemonic definition of masculinity and homophobia. (Page 25)
Hockey players are conditioned to act in a certain way, and those that don't are ostracized and ridiculed. It happens in peewee dressing rooms, junior hockey camps, and I don't see why it suddenly stops when these players hit the big leagues. Avery doesn't fit, and his peers and persecutors hate him for it, or at least seem to judge him much more harshly than they do those who step over the boundaries of physical aggression. Violence is tolerated. Nail-polish isn't.
Remember when Sean Avery called Martin Brodeur "fatso" after the goalie refused to shake hands with Avery following a playoff series last year? Apparently Brodeur will no longer refer to Avery by name, instead deriding him as "the Vogue intern." I wonder why that would be considered an insult?
Anarchy in the UK
Just because some egg-heads support me on this one doesn't necessarily prove my thesis that Sean Avery is treated the way he is because he doesn't fit the stereotypical hockey-player template, but I've seen this kind of thing happen before. Back in the late 90s and the early part of this decade I lived in Britain and saw first-hand the reaction to David Beckham as he literally changed the face of football.
The changes brought about by Hillsborough and the success of Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch had made football more fashionable in Britain, but Beckham still caused outrage with his looks, wife, and decision to wear a dress in public. With the exception of teenage girls and the red half of Manchester, Beckham was loathed. Following the 1998 World Cup, Beckham was burned in effigy in the streets of London and fled the country for the safety of America. I'll guarantee you this: if it had been Stuart Pearce who was sent off against Argentina for petulantly kicking out at Diego Simeone, none of this would have happened.
Obviously Avery does not have the same appeal or cultural cache as David Beckham, but he is playing the same role on a much smaller stage. Beckham didn't seem to give a shit about what people thought of his interests, and ten years later Beckham's lifestyle is generally accepted and somewhat common place in British soccer. Avery won't have the same massive effect, namely because he isn't as talented or well-known as Beckham, but I'm glad he's back in the NHL. We need him, and I'll be happy if, in ten years time, the NHL is stocked with players who grew up idolizing Avery rather than the likes of Bertuzzi and Chris Simon. Or Don Cherry and Bob Clarke. Or Jarko Ruutu and Steve Ott. Or Steve Downie and Chris Pronger. Or...
Picture Sean Avery sitting alone at his dressing room stall in Uniondale on Thursday night as he prepares for his first NHL game in three months. As he laces up his skates, iPod attached to his ear, his teammates slowly file out onto the ice while early-arriving fans grab their seats to watch their favourite NHLers (and the New York Islanders) take their warm-up. As the players fire shots off the glass and skate laps to the accompaniment of testosterone fuelled metal and rap blasting from the arena loudspeakers, Avery prepares for the game in silence. Except for the Sigur Ros album coming through his earphones.
That is Sean Avery in a nutshell. While his teammates gear themselves up with the usual fist-pumping 80s metal that still rules arenas throughout the NHL, Avery prefers the mellow and nuanced warbling of Reykjavik's favourite purveyors of classical-infused post-rock. Instead of pumping his fist to Armageddon It, Avery prefers his apocalyptic imagery sung in a mixture of gibberish and Icelandic. The dude literally walks to a different tune.
Pretty Vacant
I may be alone on this one, but I am happy to see Sean Avery back in the NHL. While his many detractors cite his big mouth, obnoxious attitude and often reckless on-ice behaviour as reasons why Avery doesn't belong in the NHL, I tend to cite his big mouth, obnoxious attitude and often reckless on-ice behaviour as evidence that he is the most fascinating and important player ever to lace up a pair of skates at the highest level. Sean Avery is punk rock. Sean Avery is the Sex Pistols. On the Bill Grundy show. Sean Avery scares the shit out of the hockey establishment.
Seriously.
Sean Avery is important. Until a player comes out of the closet or a woman cracks the roster of an NHL team, no one will have done more to subvert the idiotic hegemonic masculinity of the hockey world. And it is about time.
No Feelings
It might seem strange placing this mantle on Avery, considering the oafish sexism that landed him in all this trouble in the first place. He crossed the line last December when he referred to his ex-girlfriend as sloppy-seconds, and I'm not going to defend his comments. But what disappointed me most at the time wasn't so much the vulgarity of the comment itself, but more the out-of-character witlessness of the whole episode. Watch Avery's appearance on the Hour, where he comes across as bright, thoughtful and funny. Compare that man to the one who stood before the throng of microphones in Calgary, with a moronic smirk on his face, and dropped that ugly one-liner barely worthy of a frat-boy let alone a man who recently lamented about the disappointment of not reading Moby Dick in high school. It just didn't seem right.
Holidays in the Sun
Everyone knows what happened next: Avery was suspended, booted from the Stars, and ordered to take part in an anger-management counselling program. He has arguably received more relative punishment than any other player in the history of the NHL. His former fellow-troublemaker on the Stars, Steve Ott, received a one game suspension yesterday for trying to pop an opponent's eyeball out of his head. One game. One.
Avery, of course, was suspended six games and his Stars teammates voted not to let him back in the dressing room once his suspension was served. Avery was effectively barred from hockey for two months, and then had to toil in the minors for a month before the Rangers scooped him off the recall waiver wire. Almost three months total out of the NHL.
Problems
The hockey world is generally forgiving. Todd Bertuzzi served 20 games for breaking Steve Moore's neck and was subsequently chosen for the 2006 Canadian Olympic Hockey team. Rick Tocchet was welcomed back into the NHL fraternity after his involvement with a gambling ring. Many players have continued their careers unscathed after drunk-driving convictions and spousal abuse charges. The crimes of Sean Avery pale in comparison to all of these transgressions, yet I have no doubt that he will remain an outsider. He will never be forgiven the way Bertuzzi, Tocchet, MacTavish and Roy were, welcomed back with open arms by the league, fans and media. And that is outrageous.
Bodies
The most curious thing to come out of the whole Calgary mess was the discovery that the NHL and the media that covers the game are deeply concerned about the treatment of women in our society. I mean, after all, that is why Avery was suspended, right? A league that promotes itself using scantily clad cheerleaders and a media that can't grasp why the word pansy could be construed as offensive were suddenly all up in arms about Avery's nasty comments. It was all bullshit, obviously, but it is interesting because I honestly believe that gender is a major reason why Avery is such an outcast; he doesn't fit the macho template that we've created for our athletes, and he's paying the price for breaking the mould.
Just think of Avery's crimes, and then consider the outrage that pours from the pie-holes of the Mittenstringers and league personnel. Don Cherry has said that Avery has no honour, while Bobby Clarke told TSN that "[Avery's] making a fool of the game. He crosses the line all the time. He's an idiot... If you get into people's families and stuff like that you're crossing the line." As the sadly Blinking Watchdog of the Canadian Sports Media pointed out:
To listen to Avery's critics, you get the sense a gag rule is required. Fine him every time he opens his gob. Suspend him, if necessary.
But what about the people judging him?
Clarke once explained why one of his coaches, Roger Neilson, who had cancer, had been fired by saying: "We didn't tell him to go get cancer. ... We feel sorry for him, but, then he went goofy on us."
Avery's new coach (and former TSN talking head) John Tortorella labelled Avery ridiculous and urged the NHL to suspend him after his comments. Damien Cox called him a blight on the sport, but to give him credit, Cox seemed confused by the uproar around Avery and can't really be considered a hypocrite like some of his fellow columnists and talking heads. Cox is at least consistent in his condemnation of deviant behaviour both on the ice and off. On the other hand, people like Clarke and Grapes go out of their way to defend the abhorrent actions of their favourite rough and tumble NHLers. Grapes defended Chris Simon after he attempted to behead Ryan Hollwegg and put a bounty on Alex Ovechkin last Saturday night because the kid is happy after scoring a goal. Clarke repeatedly defended Steve Downie, intentionally broke a dude's ankle and tried to kill Eric Lindros.
Submission
Take a look at Avery's rap-sheet and try to find one event that comes close to Bertuzzi's assault on Steve Moore, Chris Simon's chop on Hollweg, or Clarke's slash on Kharlamov. Sure there are some ugly incidents, including his nasty comments about French Canadians, but the amount of ink spilled and air wasted in condemnation seems out of whack to me, especially considering the sources.
I honestly think that the hatred of Avery stems less from his on-ice activity and has more to do with the fact that he wears nail-polish and has an interest in fashion. He wishes he read more, listens to cultish post-rock, and enjoys modern art.
Though he told George Stroumboulopoulos that he isn't "that gay", I think the negative reaction toward Avery stems from the fact that he might be just a little too gay for the hockey establishment. Hockey players are socialized from an early age to be tough and masculine. Diverting from the norm is not tolerated.
I know this isn't groundbreaking, but think about the way we fetishize macho behaviour in hockey. We idolize the tough and rugged, and belittle the weak as less than manly. Homophobic and sexist terms are used to insult weaker players. Hell, some players get it from all sides: To a generation of Leafs fans, Wendel Clark was their favourite player because he played the game violently and viciously. To that same generation of Habs fans, Wendel Clark is the punchline to a homophobic joke about Toller Cranston.
But you don't have to take my word for it. Here are some interesting excerpts from any essay entitled "Deep Play" in PeeWee ice hockey by sociologists Alan G. Ingham and Alison Dewar (the essay is included in the book Through the Eyes of Youth and doesn't appear to be available online. I've included page numbers, but sorry, no link):
Sociologists have long made the case that we are born male or female, but we learn to be a man or a woman. Our sex is a biological given, but our gender is a social construction. What emerges then is a concept of hegemonic masculinity, not as a male role, but as a particular version of masculinity to which others - among them women, young and effeminate as well as homosexual men - are subordinated. Because a particular version of masculinity is socially constructed as the preferred version of masculinity, prestige or status is acquired by conforming to the ideal type.(Page 20)
In short, hegemonic masculinity is not only a caricature of heterosexuality, but it also promotes homophobia. (Page 24)
...there is clearly a subcultural socialization process in ice hockey that reproduces both a hegemonic definition of masculinity and homophobia. (Page 25)
Hockey players are conditioned to act in a certain way, and those that don't are ostracized and ridiculed. It happens in peewee dressing rooms, junior hockey camps, and I don't see why it suddenly stops when these players hit the big leagues. Avery doesn't fit, and his peers and persecutors hate him for it, or at least seem to judge him much more harshly than they do those who step over the boundaries of physical aggression. Violence is tolerated. Nail-polish isn't.
Remember when Sean Avery called Martin Brodeur "fatso" after the goalie refused to shake hands with Avery following a playoff series last year? Apparently Brodeur will no longer refer to Avery by name, instead deriding him as "the Vogue intern." I wonder why that would be considered an insult?
Anarchy in the UK
Just because some egg-heads support me on this one doesn't necessarily prove my thesis that Sean Avery is treated the way he is because he doesn't fit the stereotypical hockey-player template, but I've seen this kind of thing happen before. Back in the late 90s and the early part of this decade I lived in Britain and saw first-hand the reaction to David Beckham as he literally changed the face of football.
The changes brought about by Hillsborough and the success of Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch had made football more fashionable in Britain, but Beckham still caused outrage with his looks, wife, and decision to wear a dress in public. With the exception of teenage girls and the red half of Manchester, Beckham was loathed. Following the 1998 World Cup, Beckham was burned in effigy in the streets of London and fled the country for the safety of America. I'll guarantee you this: if it had been Stuart Pearce who was sent off against Argentina for petulantly kicking out at Diego Simeone, none of this would have happened.
Obviously Avery does not have the same appeal or cultural cache as David Beckham, but he is playing the same role on a much smaller stage. Beckham didn't seem to give a shit about what people thought of his interests, and ten years later Beckham's lifestyle is generally accepted and somewhat common place in British soccer. Avery won't have the same massive effect, namely because he isn't as talented or well-known as Beckham, but I'm glad he's back in the NHL. We need him, and I'll be happy if, in ten years time, the NHL is stocked with players who grew up idolizing Avery rather than the likes of Bertuzzi and Chris Simon. Or Don Cherry and Bob Clarke. Or Jarko Ruutu and Steve Ott. Or Steve Downie and Chris Pronger. Or...
