TORONTO, ON, Canada (DE) – As a general rule, Milk Johnson does his best to steer well clear of Rosie DiManno’s opinion column in The Toronto Star. To be honest, I find it facile and trite at best; obvious and lacking any inherent creativity on the bad days. If I want opinions from minds like Rosie DiManno, I’ll flag down a mini-van in Brampton and ask a soccer mom.
I do on occasion, trip over Ms. DiManno’s work on-line, or worse, find myself stranded on the toilet with nothing better to read. This was the case last Sunday. Rosie’s latest piece finds her playing the sickening role of apologist, for the evil empire that is Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment. The title of yesterday’s non-sense: Tossing Leafs jersey was bush-league move: DiManno.
What the piece should have been titled (if anyone over at The Star had any balls) is something on the order of: Tosser Leafs A Bush-League Franchise. THAT! is an article long-overdue to be published. Instead the “scrappy,” “pull-no-punches,” DiManno, chose to pander to sadly besotted Leaf fans and the sheisters at MLSE, while shitting all over a defenseless and frustrated Plebeian in the process. A Leaf fan that had reached his limit and made his opinions public, during a pathetic 5 – 2 Leaf loss on home ice Saturday night at the hands of the Pittsburgh Penguins. The unidentified man had the courage to do, what one of us should have done fifteen or twenty years ago. He delivered a big “f@ck you” to a franchise that has relentlessly milked and gouged, generations of hockey fans and given them nothing, or at best very little, in return.
This “lone nut” sent shivers down the collective spines of the corporate sporting universe simply by removing his over-priced Leaf sweater, balling it up as if it were a piece of trash and tossing it (harmlessly, during a stoppage in play) back to the bastards that sold it to him. Like a larger, drunker Frodo Baggins, casting The One Ring back into the fires of Mount Doom!
At this point, drama queen and Leaf-lackey Rosie DiManno reportedly wet her pants, excused herself from the free-buffet in the press-box at the ACC and got straight to work cranking out a propaganda piece designed to shape public opinion on the incident…like a less talented Joseph Goebels. Or worse, that evil swine Karl Rove! Everything about Rosie’s “Sweater-Gate” coverage screams sycophant. Furthermore, it seems likely that Ms. DiManno wrote this piece in collaboration with MLSE’s marketing department! The same sh!t-heels that came up with the arrogant, sickly sweet and total bullsh!t slogan, “The passion that unites us all.”
The condescending tone of the language employed, reveals the true motivation for this sleazy abortion of an article…FEAR. Clearly, “Sweater-Gate” has scared the living sh!t out of the entire Leaf cartel, from the rat-b@stards in the boardroom, right down to the peanut-vendors and prostitutes and every other huckster currently sucking the tit of the Toronto sports addict…DiManno included. Never before in the history of storied sporting franchises, have sacred, high-end consumer items like overpriced team-sweaters been publicly abused in this manner. Twice in one week! (see: Edmonton Oilers.)
In DiManno’s defense, just about every sports journalist in this town plays the same f@cked-up game. Critical to a point, but being very careful not to cross the line and pull back the curtain. In the words of Gore Vidal, “A writer must always tell the truth, unless he is a journalist. While the politician must never give the game away.” Unfortunately, the sporting press here in Hog Town tend more often than not to exhibit the worst traits of both professions.
“There is a thin veneer between the reality and the dream. You wake them up and the people might start asking for their money back.” Thompson wrote that. And he’s absolutely right. The last thing DiManno wants, is for Leaf junkies to face facts and open their eyes, because if that happens, there won’t be any suckers in the stands, sporting two-hundred-dollar sweaters to toss onto the ice. No punters paying three-hundred-dollars a seat and thirty-bucks for a pair of light-beers. No more suits forking over fifty-bucks just to park their SUV’s in the same area code as the ACC…and cruising the Jarvis-strip for post-game hookers. No middle-class families, huddled around their wide-screens, watching the game in the only manner they can ever hope to afford.
THAT apocalyptic scenario would officially put DiManno, and many other hacks, on a f@cking park bench. Right beside Dick Ballantine and Milk Johnson, reading the classifieds with a three-day beard and a brown paper-bag wrapped around a bottle of Johnny Walker Red…just to numb the pain.
Milk Johnson for Dateline Earth Sports.