by Jay Onrait
We finished our four shows for the summer, barely, and then I prepared to head west for year three of the Kraft Celebration Tour. I normally looked forward to the Kraft Tour anyway, but this was an especially needed break. Dan and I and the rest of the crew hopped on a flight to Kelowna, about a two-hour drive from Armstrong, B.C., where the tour was scheduled to begin. As the plane landed, I did what every single person does on a plane that lands anywhere in the world these days: I powered up my phone and went to check my messages. The first thing I noticed in my inbox was a company-wide memo sent from the head of CTV Specialty programming. I clicked on the e-mail and scrolled through it. Then my jaw hit the floor.
The gist of the memo was that Mark McInnis and Ben Rotterman were being let go from the company after many long years of service. Yes, the same Mark and Ben who had approved the original pitch and overseen the entire thing. The same Mark and Ben who were in charge of my show. There was no mention of my show in the memo, but the bottom line was pretty clear: It was over for The Week That Was.
I felt, to be perfectly honest, a sense of relief. I could not have kept the show going in its current format. It wasn’t funny enough, and it wasn’t close enough to the show I really wanted to do. I thought we might be given a year to find our way like all network shows need these days (see: Late Night with Jimmy Fallon), but I knew we weren’t going to get the resources we needed anyway.
I thought I knew the mechanism of CTV shows. I also thought that if I kept the operation small, practically a secret, I might be able to hang on to creative control and create something I was really proud of. But it backfired; instead, we were like a forgotten entity, and the people in charge were halfway out the door by the time we hit production. I should have been more diligent in making sure we had access to the content we needed, because that was the entire purpose of the show. Had I realized the show would turn into half a sketch show, I might have pushed to hire more sketch comedians. But I didn’t want to do a sketch show, I wanted to do a clip show, and not having access to those clips was just the beginning of our many issues.
Even in moments when I chastise myself for not being in The Week That Was production offices full time, I realize that realistically I could not have approached the show any other way. I haven’t talked about how much money I was making to do the show, but let’s just say that baristas in Toronto are probably pulling in more in tips. There was no way I could simply quit SportsCentre and go full time on The Week That Was unless I wanted to drastically change my lifestyle, which at this point in my life I didn’t want to do. I know it’s not very “artist” of me but it’s the truth. I liked my lifestyle, I loved hosting SportsCentre, and I wasn’t willing to give that up to take a chance on a show on MuchMore. In the end, that was obviously the one correct choice I made.
In all, it was a great lesson for me when it comes to putting together a TV show: I needed to be better prepared, to make sure all the bases were covered—it was my name on the show after all. I was just so happy that I was finally doing something with my spare time following the Olympics that I skimmed over the details. Luckily, not much damage was done to my career, and to this day people still tell me they actually liked the show and wished it was still on. I wish it was still on, too, in the format that I had intended. Every year new shows like Canada’s Got Talent, The Bachelor Canada, and Amazing Race Canada launch to great publicity across this great nation, and they are just waiting to be skewered. It makes me wonder what might have been.
I see members of our crew for lunch on occasion, and they’re all doing very well. I suppose I shouldn’t have stressed so much about keeping their jobs alive, because they were all so talented there was no question they’d land on their feet. We kick back and reminisce about that one crazy summer in 2011 when we all tried to put a show on Canadian TV and came up just short. Better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all, I guess. Maybe someday some or all of us will be able to work together again. I’m pondering new ideas.
CHAPTER 29
The Last Sportscaster of the Year
UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES DID I ever think I would win an award for my achievements in broadcasting. I knew that several of our most talented hosts, writers, and producers had won Geminis in the past, including my friend and NHL on TSN host James Duthie, who had been nominated for several Geminis before finally getting a well-deserved win in 2009. I used to chide him on-air about being a multiple Gemini nominee who was always the bridesmaid but never the bride. Truthfully, it always kind of irked me that CBC personalities seemed to traditionally dominate the event. It obviously irked CTV News so much that they pulled themselves out of Gemini consideration altogether. I had always assumed my broadcasting style was considered too weird and out there for Gemini voters, so imagine my surprise when I was nominated for Best Sportscaster of the Year in 2010, the summer after my Vancouver Olympics stint.
The exposure from the Olympics had obviously helped my cause and brought me to the attention of Gemini voters, and I was grateful for the nomination if for no other reason than I might be able to use it as a bargaining chip in future contract negotiations. I was up against two people who worked for my own company: the aforementioned Mr. Duthie and CTV Olympic host Brian Williams (I am contractually obligated to introduce him that way), so it was obvious from the very beginning that I would never, ever win the actual award if those two were nominated in my category. Also nominated was a local CBC Vancouver sportscaster named Shane Foxman. In the end we all lost out to Mr. Duthie, who was surprised that he had won over Mr. Williams although he shouldn’t have been. I was happy that James was finally getting the recognition he deserved from others in the industry. Had I actually won the award that year, I’m pretty sure the entire method of awarding Geminis would have been stripped down and re-evaluated. As it turns out, that wouldn’t happen until I actually did win the award a year later.
The year after the Olympics was a relatively quiet one in the industry and especially at TSN. I had been concentrating on trying to get The Week That Was off the ground and had not pursued any new sports ventures other than continuing to host SportsCentre with Dan every night. However, I had been really proud of the direction Dan and I were taking with the show and truly grateful to my bosses for giving us free rein to make SportsCentre into more of a hybrid comedy/sports program. That summer, Comedy Central in the United States launched two separate attempts at doing a show for sports along the lines of The Daily Show. One was Onion SportsDome, which was produced by the creators of the satirical online news site The Onion. That show was attempting to take the piss out of sports highlight shows in general, and I thought it had some pretty funny moments, but ultimately it did not last.
Also launching in the summer of 2011 was Sports Show with Norm MacDonald, starring the Canadian comedian and former SNL “Weekend Update” host. To this day I am amazed it is not still on the air. It was clearly cheap to produce, and I thought it was reasonably funny and would have only gotten better as MacDonald found his groove. My only complaint was that the show was almost a little too much Norm, and this is coming from a huge Norm MacDonald fan. Probably because of budgetary constraints, Norm not only did a “Weekend Update”–style set of headlines to kick off the show but also went into the field and did stories as well. I thought a little less Norm would have gone a long way: He could have hosted the headlines segment and then passed it on to a couple of reporters who could do the field pieces, sort of the same format as The Daily Show. Alas, just like The Week That Was, Sports Show was never given the chance to find its footing, and it was cancelled after just ten episodes.
Dan and I were continuing to push the envelope on SportsCentre, starting to ad lib around highlights more and write introductory on-cams that were closer to comedy sketches than sports journalism. A little novice hockey player who was taking too long to make a lap around the ice holding a Red Wings flag before a regular-season game was told, “GET OFF THE ICE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!” I made allusions to never
quitting my job, telling the viewers they would have to “drag my dead corpse out of here.” I screamed at the viewers at full volume that we were showing NHL pre-season hockey and they should “WATCH IT! WATCH IT!” I basically spent the entirety of 2011 screaming at our viewers on live television, and many of them seemed to enjoy it.
Meanwhile, we were continuing to host the SportsCentre Morning Rush on TSN2 throughout the summer, a show I began every day by screaming, “Ohhhhhhhh …. whatta RUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH!!!” as an homage to the entrance music that the Road Warriors tag team used back in the day in the WWF and the NWA. Occasionally, our bosses would tell us to “dial it back 10 percent,” but for the most part we were given carte blanche to continue cultivating these crazy antics, and I was getting closer to turning our show into what I always wanted it to be: a true late-night talk show/sports highlight show hybrid, but without those annoying guests. All killer, no filler!
I had made the assumption that, because there were no Olympics to speak of and I had hosted no other major events in 2011, my Gemini nomination was a one-and-done situation. I wasn’t even thinking about it, really. So imagine my surprise when I was told I had indeed been nominated for Sportscaster of the Year once again, alongside Mr. Foxman, and my colleague Darren Dutchyshen.
This created a somewhat awkward situation: Dutchy is a personal hero of mine and probably the biggest single reason I wanted to get into broadcasting when I was a kid. The idea of being nominated for an award beside him was a truly humbling and rewarding experience, but the idea of actually winning the award at his expense made me completely uncomfortable. Dutchy alleviated the situation by saying he hoped one of us would win it so that the award would stay in the family. I truly appreciated that.
The evening of the award show, TSN had booked three tables full of writers, producers, talent, and executives, and I took my place among them. Dutchy was sitting at my table, and I ran into Shane Foxman before the ceremony began. He was a truly kind and gracious guy and a real talent with a unique style. I suppose I thought of him as a bit of a kindred spirit. I really didn’t want an awkward situation, not to mention the fact that as someone who had admired Dutchy all his life, I truly believed he deserved to be rewarded for all his years of hard work. In the end, I pretended not to care as they announced that I’d won. Dutchy came over and gave me a big hug and told me he was proud of me.
I meandered up on stage to give my thank you speech, being careful to thank my bosses and giving my own tribute to the network: I spun around at one point and revealed that the letters TSN had been shaved into the back of my head, pointing out that I would never be able to leave the company after such a stunt. (I had just returned from the Kraft Tour, and during the last stop in MacGregor, Manitoba, a young hairdresser was shaving TSN into little kids’ heads for fun, so I asked her to do it for me as well.)
I also made sure I saved the most important two people for last in my speech: Producer Tim, whom I acknowledged for “keeping us from getting fired every single night,” and Dan, whom I credited in all sincerity with being a better broadcaster than I was. I tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but just like any award it doesn’t suck when you’re acknowledged for what you do. My bosses were happy, I was happy, and I started to tuck into a double vodka and prepare for what would be a celebratory night. Good thing I never had to work early. The next morning was probably going to be pretty painful.
Then I checked my phone.
A text from Dan: “Where are you?”
“Um, at the Geminis?” I texted back. “I won! Just getting the skill saw out and preparing to cut it in half for you.”
“Oh, that’s great,” replied Dan. “You do realize you’re working tonight, right?”
“What?” I asked.
“Your name is on the schedule. Everyone is wondering where you are. You’re scheduled to work.”
I pondered this for a moment, silently, while my Gemini award was passed around among my peers. Surely TSN would not have scheduled me to work on the same night as the Gemini Awards, would they?
Turns out they would.
And they did.
I wandered over to SportsCentre executive producer Steve Argintaru, who was not in charge of scheduling the hosts for the show and at least pretended to be as surprised as I was. One of my two immediate bosses, vice-president of news and information Ken Volden, was also surprised, but neither of them were exactly floating the idea of me taking the night off. I had to shake off my buzz, sober up with a few big pieces of stale dinner roll, and get my ass in to work. I probably shouldn’t have driven myself in, but my mind was racing and I didn’t want to be the guy who made my producer call another anchor in to work on the show at the last minute because I was getting drunk.
On the way to work I formulated an idea for the opening of the show that night. Word had already travelled back to the newsroom about my win that evening. As soon as I arrived, after receiving many wonderful congratulations from everyone in our newsroom, I sought out our biggest and burliest writer: Guy Desormeaux, who looked like a guy who would have done a mean clean and jerk at the 1952 Olympics.
“Could you carry me?” I asked Guy. “Like, in your arms?”
He laughed at me. Yes, he could carry my scrawny ass, probably for miles without much effort.
That night the show opened with Dan sitting alone at the desk, commenting on the fact that he would likely be hosting the show alone that evening and that he had no idea where I was. Suddenly, triumphant orchestral music played and I emerged—carried onto the set in the arms of Guy, who let me down gently in my seat.
“Could you get me a cucumber water?” I called out to Guy as he left the set.
“Nice to know this win hasn’t gone to your head,” said Dan.
Dan suggested later that I keep the Gemini in my fridge as opposed to on a coffee table or a mantle. His reasoning was that if I had people over and they went to the fridge to grab a beer they would be met with a pleasant surprise. About two weeks later the Toronto Star contacted our communications department and asked if any of our recent Gemini winners kept their trophies in an unusual place. Our communications manager, Chobi Liang, whom I had recently started dating, informed them that I kept my Gemini in the fridge. Next thing I knew, the paper had sent over one of their staff photographers to take a picture. He set up the camera in the back of the fridge and got a great shot of me reaching for a beer with the Gemini in the foreground. The beer company saw it, and I got free beer out of that shot. It may have been a greater accomplishment than the Gemini win.
A year later I was told that the Gemini committee was consolidating several awards and that Best Sportscaster was being eliminated. I tried to pretend it wasn’t because the Gemini committee had concluded they’d made a major mistake in giving me the award the previous year, but it probably was. And I am very much okay with that. Either way, they can’t take away the statue in my fridge. The beer, however, is long gone.
CHAPTER 30
Pooping in an Old Man’s Apartment
THE KRAFT CELEBRATION TOUR was supposed to be a one-time thing, a chance to celebrate the network’s twenty-fifth anniversary in the summer of 2009 by travelling across the country and putting on our show in front of a live audience. TSN viewers were encouraged to nominate their community, and those nominations were eventually whittled down to two per province. Then, those two nominated communities went head-to-head in a direct voting competition, with the community that collected the most votes declared the winner until we ended up with ten stops across the country. One crew, led by Darren Dutchyshen and Jennifer Hedger, would travel westward; the other crew, led by Dan and me, would go east. We would put on five shows each. The first year was such a success that despite the fact it was supposed to be a one-time thing to celebrate our network’s anniversary, TSN and Kraft decided to extend it for two more years, and then another three years after that.
Dan and I looked forward to the start of the Kraft Tour like kids waiting for C
hristmas morning. The first year, a crew of about twenty crammed into one bus; by year three, the crew had expanded to about forty and we had three buses. The country’s very best sports production freelancers all vie to get on the tour, not just because of the money but also because it’s a hell of a lot of fun to be on a road trip like this one. Although it’s always a damn good party, we also put on an outstanding show in every town. The smaller the community, the more fun the shows tend to be. Everyone in town rallies around the event, and we try to make it as memorable as possible.
We usually ask the organizing committee to suggest some activities that Dan and I can participate in that might be unique to the town or area. In the past, such activities have included hanging off a speedboat as it powers down the North Saskatchewan River near Devon, Alberta; racing combines at the Agricultural Museum near MacGregor, Manitoba (I lost); and shooting watermelons from a cannon and milking goats against the clock near Armstrong, B.C. (I lost again and had to drink the milk in my pail—pretty good actually).
The activities are always a lot of fun but never as much fun as the show itself: a real outdoor rock stage, usually set up in the middle of the community, with giant screens projecting the show for all to see. Our backs were facing the audience so we could have the crowd in the background on TV, but early on Dan and I decided we needed to turn around and acknowledge the crowd as much as possible before the show and during commercial breaks. We wanted to make it a real show, not just another edition of SportsCentre, so about an hour before we go live across the country, Dan and I hopped on stage and started dancing, singing, and generally trying to get the crowd to go as crazy as possible. We loved to get everyone to sing along with us to “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey and “Livin’ on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi, as well as whatever new songs were hitting the charts that year. Every stop we made was so much fun, and it was a truly unique way to see this massive country we lived in. Not to mention the lifelong friendships we made with our outstanding crew members along the way. It was one of my favourite parts of the job.