add    remove

According to the National Post (so it must be true), this ‘Bring the Cup Home’ ad campaign is so wildly popular, Labatt Blue’s market share jumped almost two points. Why? Because Canada’s national pride is hideously low. Homeless hordes are storming the intersections. Unemployment is so high, somebody should be spanked. And our social safety net is slacker than a Value Village discount bungee cord.

Canada needs a cause and we need it tout de bloody suite. Preferably, some nation-rallying celebration in which all Canadians can take part. Better yet, something where the grunt work is done by a plucky hero while the rest of us sit on our tubby bums, cheer them on, and drink.

Like ice hockey. When all else failed, Canada could at least count on international hockey supremacy. Remember the 1972 Canadian-Soviet Summit Series and The Shot Heard Round the World? I’m referring, of course, to Bobby Clarke’s lumberjack chop that broke the ankle of Russia’s greatest player, Valeri Kharlamov. After that, Canada’s bloated goon squad rumbled on to victory by the skin of their chattering teeth.

At least they won. But lately? Man, our sports teams suck like it’s their job. Labatt figures Canada’s only hope of getting the Stanley Cup back is if we steal it. Worst of all, our Prime Minister, The Right Honourable Jean Chretien, can’t dribble a basketball without tripping over the foul line and doing a goofy lip-stand.

Yep, the ‘90s have been harsh on Canadian pride. Just check out Professor Robert J. Belton’s Important Moments In Canadian History . According to Professor Belton, in the early ‘90s we scrapped the Miss Canada pageant and replaced it with the Goods and Services Tax. In ‘93, Quebec separatistes dedicated to smashing Canada into pieces became our government’s Official Opposition. In ‘94, a Canadian pilot crashed a Korean jet and was arrested for endangering the lives of his passengers. This led to nothing important happening in ‘95 or ‘96.

Enter ‘97 when that skulking meany titmouse, Brian Mulroney, sued us for 2 million smackers because the RCMP defamed his ‘character’. And last year we endured The Killer Storm, i.e. media coverage of the Gillian Guess trial.

This year? Ugh. The Taber tragedy. Vicious home invasions. Gretzky retired. Preston Manning’s trying to speak French. The Red Green Show is still on the air. And we sold the Canadarm to MacDonald Dettwiler, a U.S.-owned company. Compare that to the ‘80s, when Canadians were so proud of that carnival toy grabber, we kept swinging it around to give ourselves hydraulic little back pats.

The ‘80s were the last time Canada showed any nationally unifying pride, chiefly thanks to Terry Fox, Steve Fonyo, and Rick Hansen. Three heroic young British Columbians who raised millions of dollars for cancer and spinal cord research. Winning our hearts and lifting our spirits, they jogged, hopped, and wheeled their way across this vast and rugged land.

Whatever happened to that halcyon time of noble Canadaudacity? That sepia-tinted era of strong and selfless grace? Sadly, the ‘80s were Canada’s salad days. Look around and I’m sure you’ll agree. Heroes are few and the country’s fading fast.

Which is why I believe it’s time for our next Great Canadian to drag themselves across the country.

I’m serious. It’s hero time. Who will be our next Canadian-crossing legend? One thing’s certain: the concept has to be updated. As my roommate puts it, “that lone limping Caucasian jogger thing doesn’t cut it anymore. Besides, how hard is it to run across Canada? There’s only one highway, and if that’s too confusing, they call it #1.”

Cynical, but he has a point. Under the accelerated influence of CNN, the Web, and hyper-action video games, modern barstool cheerleaders are just too damn demanding. Everything’s got to be action-flashy, pop-pop-pop.

The next Great Canadian must also surpass the lofty physical standards of their predecessors--and those are big shoes to fill. Terry Fox ran on one leg from Victoria to Thunder Bay. Steve Fonyo topped Terry by running on one leg all the way from Victoria to St. John’s. And Rick Hansen topped them both by wheeling around the world without either leg touching the ground. Can anyone top Rick’s paraplegia?

Don’t get me wrong. I am not making fun of Rick Hansen. First, he’s a Canadian hero. Second, I liked how he looked in that tight red tank top. And third: have you seen the arms on that guy? He’d rip my head off and crush me like a roach. His shoulders are so huge, it looks like he’s riding around with a couple of cocker spaniels.

So hear me out. If Canada’s barstool cheerleaders are going to get their hero, the physical stakes must be raised. For example, what if our next Marathon of Hope was a Thalidomide flipper baby on a motorized cart seat, steering through the Rockies with a joystick between her toes? With enough sponsors onboard, we could call it the Marathon of Hype.

I realize some readers are already typing angry letters to the editor, huffing and puffing into their tube-operated keyboards. But, hey, I’m talking heroism here. The last thing I want is to make sport of people with mental and physical challenges. I mean, I’m no Jerry Lewis. Have you seen The Bellboy? Or The Errand Boy? All telethons aside, Jerry Lewis built his entire career on mocking people with physical and mental disabilities.

Wait just a cotton-picking minute. Who says our cross-country champion needs a physical handicap? Canada is bursting with Special Olympians. How about an 11 year-old kid with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and Attention Deficit Disorder? OK, he might not make it past the first comic book store or video arcade. But that’s cool. There’s no rush. We can call it the Boy in Slow Motion Tour.

Maybe we could coax Steve Fonyo out of retirement for his comeback Man On Probation Tour. This time, just to make it interesting, Steve could take care of business by running across Canada with 1,000 one-legged escorts. Yeah! Canadawesome! The Trans-Canada could even give them a designated lane with a special sign:

[GRAPHIC: a men’s washroom symbol, except the stick man only has one leg]

Hmm. Kinda looks like he’s standing still. I’ll try to make it look like he’s running...

[GRAPHIC: the same men’s washroom symbol, except now the one-legged stick man has one arm raised]

Uh-oh. Now it looks like he’s trying to hail a cab.

Wait, I’ve got it! Let’s recruit some guy with Tourette's Syndrome. Man, if any syndrome needs public consciousness raising, it’s Tourette’s. For those unfamiliar, Tourette’s victims suffer from tics, spasms, and sudden urges to shout public obscenities. Or so they claim. Some people think Tourette’s doesn’t exist at all. It sure sounds like an alibi for potty-mouthed jerks.

Disagree, Tourette’s sufferer? Then prove me wrong. Trudge from coast to coast and raise my wretched consciousness. I can see your slogan now: The Tourette's Syndrome Fuck You Cocksucker Cross-Canada Suck My Beaver Tour.

Now that’s patriotic.

-30-

Published: Vancouver magazine, October 1999

Nominated: National Magazine Award, Best Humour Article