Anchorboy

by Jay Onrait

  Meanwhile, during the summer of 2010, Dan and I hosted a live SportsCentre show as part of the Kraft Celebration Tour in Pinawa, Manitoba, about two and a half hours east of Winnipeg. The show was marred by heavy rain, which didn’t dampen the spirit of the incredible crowd that showed up (sorry, sometimes I can’t help but write like a guy who has worked in television news for almost twenty years). We noticed a couple of people wearing Jets jerseys and asked that they be moved up closer to the stage. Then we decided to jump into the crowd while everyone chanted “BRING BACK THE JETS!” as the credits rolled. It was one of the more memorable show closings we’ve done, and it reminded me of the passion that Manitoba sports fans had for their team. Turns out I was just scratching the surface of that passion.

  Toward the end of the following NHL season, the word had gotten out that the Atlanta Thrashers were in serious financial trouble and that a move to Winnipeg was imminent. By now it was impossible for Gary Bettman to prevent one of his prized Sunbelt teams from heading back north, even if he did show up at the press conference announcing the purchase of the team with a scowl on his face that made him look like a petulant child. “This doesn’t work if the building isn’t full,” he sneered to Jets fans. Jets fans promptly sold out the entire 2011–2012 season in thirty minutes. There was money in the Jets ownership; the fans had proven their lust for NHL hockey by purchasing tickets in droves; and the building was in place, even if it was small by NHL standards. The Jets were back.

  But would they be called “the Jets”?

  Amazingly, before the deal was finalized to move the Thrashers to Winnipeg, rumblings throughout the hockey world began to occur indicating that Mr. Chipman might not want to call the team “the Jets” for various reasons: Having built up the “Moose” brand over the past few years in the Winnipeg market, there was some speculation that True North wanted to retain that moniker for the new team. There was also speculation that the owners were concerned that if the team was called “the Jets” and they wore the old uniforms, no one would buy team merchandise—probably the single dumbest argument I’ve ever heard. I’m pretty sure that after fifteen years of the team being away, people needed to buy themselves new Jets jerseys because of weight gain and potential lingering odour issues. There was also talk of a “fresh start” and that the “Jets” name had technically left with the old franchise that was now in Phoenix. It was genuinely thought that the new NHL team in Winnipeg would be called something other than “the Jets,” and that was simply not acceptable to me.

  The tradition of the “Jets” name goes back to the days when the team was a member of the World Hockey Association in the ’70s. The city’s long aviation history of both aerospace development and housing a Canadian Air Force base was the reason for the name, and it had a great ring to it. When the Jets moved from the WHA to the NHL they kept the name, just as the Edmonton Oilers, Quebec Nordiques, and Hartford Whalers had done.

  The team enjoyed some great years throughout the ’80s and early ’90s with players like Dale Hawerchuk, Teppo Numminen, and Teemu Selanne. Unfortunately, the Jets never competed for a Stanley Cup because they were stuck in the Smythe Division with the all-powerful Oilers and Flames teams of the ’80s. When I thought about pro hockey in Winnipeg, I immediately thought “Jets.” To consider calling them something different was turning one’s back on the history of hockey in the city. There were some in Winnipeg who thought a nice compromise might be to call the new team “Winnipeg Falcons” after the senior men’s amateur team that won the first-ever Olympic gold medal for men’s hockey back in 1920. It still made little sense to me.

  Had Mr. Chipman and Mr. Thomson simply declared at the press conference announcing the purchase of the Thrashers that the new team would be called “the Jets,” the entire city would have been thrilled and never even speculated about an alternative. Instead they said that a name had not been decided. There was talk that like the AHL team, they wanted “Manitoba” in the title and not “Winnipeg.” I was seriously concerned. It was great that NHL hockey was returning to Manitoba’s capital where it belonged, but the idea of that team not being given the name “Jets” was strangely upsetting to me. Even though I had never been a Winnipeg fan growing up, it simply didn’t seem right.

  When the city of Cleveland lost the Browns in 1996, the city negotiated a deal with the NFL to retain the Browns’ name, colours, awards, and archives for three years until a new stadium could be built and the NFL would return to the city. When the city of Seattle lost the SuperSonics in 2008, civic officials also negotiated to retain the Sonics’ name and colours for when the NBA returned to the Pacific Northwest. The concept of calling these teams anything else was patently absurd to all their fans.

  The thought of having the NHL return to Winnipeg without them being called “the Jets” so infuriated me that I went on SportsCentre one day and indicated to Dan that if True North did not refer to the team as “the Jets,” then I would, in fact, “lose it.” I still get asked to this day what exactly that would have meant. I’m still not sure. It’s not as if I was going to hop on a flight to Manitoba and try to find Mark Chipman so I could beat him up or something. He did grant every Manitoba hockey fan’s greatest wish by returning the city to the NHL, after all. Let’s just say I would have been very, very disappointed and would have very likely referred to the team as “the Jets” on SportsCentre even if they were called “the Falcons” or something else. Much as I often refer to the Minnesota Wild as “the North Stars” when reading their highlights.

  In the end, the fan base made sure their voices were heard, and even though I’m not convinced he was completely happy about it, Mr. Chipman relented to popular opinion. When taking the microphone to announce the selection of Mark Scheifele in their first NHL draft since returning to the city, Mr. Chipman announced the pick on behalf of “the Winnipeg Jets” as several Jets fans in Jets gear who had driven down to St. Paul from Manitoba for the draft cheered in delight. I don’t think my thinly veiled threats on national television tipped the scales or anything. Oh, let’s be honest, of course they did. You’re welcome, Winnipeg. You got your Jets back.

  After the Jets’ return had been set in stone for the fall of 2011, Dan and I once again hosted a live SportsCentre show in Manitoba, this time about an hour west of the city, in MacGregor. The new Jets logo had already been revealed and merchandise was flying off the shelves. We expected a few new Jets caps in the crowd of about 1,000 people, but we were not fully prepared for the rowdiness of said crowd. They were nuts, and they were nuts about their newly reborn NHL team.

  Bryan Little, who had played in Atlanta and was set to become one of the Jets’ top forwards that fall, had agreed to come up to MacGregor and sign autographs for people in the crowd. The line to get his autograph was ridiculously long, snaking around the stage. Sean Thompson, one of our lighting guys on the Kraft Tour who looks identical to Nickelback singer Chad Kroeger and played him in sketches on our show, was placed next to Bryan and was also signing autographs. What a bizarre little world we had created. We then brought Bryan onstage so he could soak up the atmosphere a little bit. At various points during that afternoon as the crowd chanted “BRY-AN LIT-TLE,” I saw Bryan, a very shy guy, glance over at us with a look that said “What the heck have I gotten myself into?”

  It wasn’t until the end of their first season back that I made it to a Jets game in Winnipeg. By then I had witnessed the incredible crowd on television. Everyone was blown away by the reception they gave Teemu Selanne when he returned with the Anaheim Ducks; the team’s home record was substantially better than their road one; and they were at a disadvantage on the road, having to play in the Southeast Division and travel regularly to Florida and Carolina. By season’s end the Jets had fallen just short of their playoff goal, but I was still excited to finally see a game in person at the MTS Centre. I caught a last-minute flight with my girlfriend, and we checked into the Fairmont and made our way down Portage Avenue to the Jets’ new home. We we
re escorted to the press box and had the chance to sit next to our TSN Winnipeg bureau chief, Sara Orlesky, who was a born-and-raised Winnipeg girl and had been delighted with the opportunity to work in Winnipeg full time and return to the city to raise her young daughter.

  Needless to say, I was absolutely blown away by the passion of the crowd. Before the puck even dropped the team handed out several year-end awards. The reception Jim Slater got for winning a community service award was louder than any goal celebration I had heard that year at Rexall Place in Edmonton or the Saddledome in Calgary. Simply put, the Winnipeg crowd was putting most other Canadian hockey crowds to shame, with the possible exception of those at the Bell Centre in Montreal. There are many skeptics out there who wonder if the Winnipeg crowds can sustain this passion, and even some Winnipeggers wonder that as well. It’s a fair question.

  Steven Stamkos of the Tampa Bay Lightning came into the game with fifty-nine goals and was roundly booed every single time he touched the puck, but when he actually buried number sixty, the crowd gave him a standing ovation! I had the chance to draw the winning 50/50 ticket (the purse: $55,000), and I received an incredibly warm reception when my ugly mug appeared on the Jumbotron. Dave Wheeler, a local radio guy and friend of Dan O’Toole’s, was also the in-game host, and he asked me to introduce myself to the crowd. “Jon Ljungberg,” I replied, to a few laughs.

  The Jets didn’t get the win that night, but later, in Osborne Village where I used to live, I saw tons of Jets jerseys and hats on young and old people who had just been to the game and were now unwinding with a drink or two afterward. There was no question that the team had given the city and many of the downtown businesses an economic boost.

  When the Edmonton Oilers made their unexpected run to the Stanley Cup Final back in 2006, then owner Cal Nichols made the comment that the playoff run had been good “for the soul of the city.” I think everyone in Edmonton knew exactly what he meant by that. For years before a salary cap was introduced, Edmonton faced the almost constant prospect of their team leaving for a market south of the border, just as Winnipeg’s team had done. Finally, after years of wondering if they would even have a team at all, fans who cared about their hockey team more than anything else in their community were able to watch the Oilers have some success again without the threat of losing them when the season was over. It made everyone in Edmonton happier, closer, and probably more productive. There is really nothing like a winning team to bring a city together.

  The return of the Jets to Winnipeg was also good for “the soul of the city.” A city that is still used to being the butt of jokes across the country. Maybe that’s why the crowd is so loud. They don’t want anyone to question their loyalty to this team. The Jets players were clearly not prepared for the reception they were given, and when the season was over, team captain Andrew Ladd remarked that players across the league had commented on how cool it was to play in front of fans like that, prompting speculation that the crowd itself might be a draw for future free agents. Let’s hope so. Winnipeg is a great city, and now it’s got soul again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Back to Toronto …

  SEPTEMBER 11, 2001.

  It started off as a regular morning on The Big Breakfast. We had gone to commercial break in between segments, and I noticed that a group of guests who were on the show that morning were gathering around our TV monitors in the lobby. I paid little attention to this because I had another segment to prepare for and only two minutes of commercial break time in which to do it. Suddenly Chris Albi, my trusted floor director on the show, was frantically waving her arms around in the lobby instead of prepping guests for the next segment. It wasn’t a big deal because it was a cooking segment, and Chris was the kind of woman who flapped her arms constantly as she talked anyway. By then we could basically prepare for those cooking segments in our sleep. I chatted casually with the chef who was on the show that day, trying to ignore the commotion that was taking place. Suddenly with about ten seconds to go before we were back from commercial, Chris sprinted toward me and screamed, “SOMEBODY FLEW INTO THE WORLD TRADE CENTER!” and then, with her fingers, she counted down … 3 … 2 … 1 … cue.

  Needless to say I was a little taken aback. Somebody flew into the World Trade Center? One person? What? How could that happen? In my mind I imagined a single-engine plane piloted by some Wall Street guy who hadn’t taken enough flying lessons. Had he smacked up against the exterior of one of the towers and caused a massive fire? These were the questions flying through my head as I tried to ask intelligent questions of the hard-working chef who had graciously agreed to appear on our show that morning with zero sleep. By the time the next commercial break rolled around, we had already gone off the air and started broadcasting CNN on our channel. I had been replaced by the dulcet tones of Aaron Brown.

  About two weeks later I received a call from one of TSN’s senior hockey producers, Rick Briggs-Jude. It was completely out of the blue. I hadn’t thought much about TSN for the previous year. I was fully entrenched in the world of The Big Breakfast.

  “How’d you like to move back to Toronto and be the first host of the NHL Network?” Rick asked.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about. NHL Network? As it turned out, the league was preparing to launch its own channel and had enlisted TSN’s help. The NHL would control content but the entire production crew and studios would come out of the CTV Agincourt building in Scarborough, Ontario. Plans were to do a nightly show called NHL on the Fly, in which the viewer would be able to see us take live “look-ins” at games for two minutes at a time. Going from game to game to game, viewers would presumably get a more complete take on what was happening in the league that night than they would by watching one game in its entirety. It was sort of the same concept as the NFL’s RedZone Channel. I was intrigued but it didn’t exactly sound like my dream job, and frankly it also sounded like a lot of work. Six hours of live television a night? I was exhausted just thinking about it, and by now I think it’s pretty clear I didn’t get into this business to work hard. I was also unsure of what this meant for my relationship with Darcy. I thought about it carefully, discussed it with Darcy, and others, and after plenty more careful consideration and deliberation I called Rick, thanked him for the offer, and turned it down.

  For the first time in my career, I was turning down an opportunity, and a pretty good opportunity at that. This job was something that a lot of young broadcasters in my position would have killed for. But at the time, turning it down felt like the right thing to do.

  Then Rick called back and offered more money.

  It’s a funny thing, negotiating broadcasting salaries in this country. There really isn’t much of an agent system here in the world of television broadcasting unless you are very high up on the food chain (think Ron MacLean, Don Cherry, Frank D’Angelo). The very simple reason is that the money is not quite good enough to justify someone else taking 10 percent to negotiate for it. In fact, there is a general secrecy about what everyone is making in broadcasting unless you’re working for the CBC. I had no idea what to ask for in terms of salary from the NHL Network. But when Mike Toth said “80 (thousand) would be pretty good” to start, I knew he was speaking from experience. Later I came to realize that at the time a high five-figure salary was a pretty standard starting point for sports anchors on a national level in Canada back then. It goes without saying that the Canadian broadcasting pay scale is likely a little lower than it should be simply because jobs are scarce and so many people want them. Nonetheless, I was making less than $60,000 to host a three-hour breakfast show in Winnipeg at the time, so when Rick called back and offered $78,000 for the first year, then $83,000 for the second, it felt like a bit of a windfall.

  Even more than the money was the fact that I hadn’t worked in sports television for two years and hadn’t even been following sports as closely as I should have. Concentrating only on hockey in my transition back to sports television was a very appealing p
roposition because hockey was the one sport I would never stop following closely. One other item about the offer probably sealed the deal: Rick pointed out that after six hours of NHL on the Fly every night I would finish my workday by hosting a half-hour wrap-up show called That’s Hockey 2. This wasn’t the first incarnation of That’s Hockey 2. While I was gone on my prairie sojourn, TSN had tried their own half-hour all-hockey highlight show after Sportsdesk that was also called That’s Hockey 2. The show was hosted by Darren Dutchyshen and Pierre McGuire, and it was one of the very first assignments Pierre had at the network. I loved the show and the chemistry between Darren and Pierre and was shocked when TSN decided to end it after only one year on the air, though I understand that after seeing Pierre’s larger-than-life personality on the show, TSN execs likely thought he needed an even bigger platform for his talents.

  Nonetheless, I loved the concept of an all-hockey highlight show on TSN. I thought the network had a perfect opportunity to create another tent-pole franchise almost as important as Sportsdesk, just as Baseball Tonight was such a huge part of ESPN’s lineup during the summer. But what was really appealing about the idea of hosting That’s Hockey 2 was the fact that it would be simulcast on TSN every night at midnight eastern. Therefore I would be on Canada’s number one sports network, nationally, four nights a week at 9:00 p.m. in Vancouver, 10:00 p.m. in Calgary, 11:00 p.m. in Winnipeg, and so on. I would basically have achieved my goal of being on TSN every night.

  After a tear-filled discussion with Darcy she ultimately blurted out, “I think you should go.” She knew our relationship wouldn’t survive my turning down this kind of opportunity. I would likely regret it and harbour resentment toward her for making me stay in Winnipeg, working for her, becoming a bit of a neutered lap-dog. I called Rick back and asked for one more condition: I wanted the network to fly me back to Winnipeg once a month so I could visit Darcy and, yes, continue my relationship with her. When they agreed to my terms, I decided to accept the offer. In just three years, I had gained all the on-air experience I was going to gain by working on the prairies. Now it was time to return to the so-called centre of the Canadian media universe.