Let’s talk about Winnipeg as the NHL’s Dreadtown

Let me begin by saying I know there are worse places than Winnipeg. Being stuck on an elevator overnight with Miley Cyrus and realizing you forgot your ear plugs comes to mind.

But is Good Ol’ Hometown really as bad as National Hockey League players make it out to be?

Apparently so. It’s the dentist’s chair of their world. Root canal included.

Actually, no. It’s worse than that.

Step out of doors in Pegtown and you might as well go directly to an ER, because you’re just one frost-bitten breath away from hypothermia.

That’s right, they’ve noticed that it’s cold. Always.

And dirty. Winnipeg doesn’t have a sewer system. It is a sewer system. Or so they tell us.

I mean, what’s the first order of business for any brave NHL soul who survives his unfortunate experience on the frozen tundra? Why, he reaches for a bar of soap and starts scrubbing his face, of course. You know, to wash off the Winnipeg.

And did we mention depressing?

Oh, there’s plenty for the NHL scamps to do in Good Ol’ Hometown, it’s just that none of it’s exciting. Little wonder locals call Misericordia Health Centre the “Misery.”

In case you missed it, Emily Kaplan of ESPN talked to, or contacted, 50 players and asked a series of questions on matters ranging from Twitter accounts to Gritty fatigue to the blind eye that NHL mucky-mucks turn toward the use of recreational drugs. And there was this: “Which road city do you dread the most?”

The results were as predictable as Don Cherry wearing a bad suit and saying something stupid on Saturday night.

Winnipeg:   42 per cent
Buffalo:      34 per cent
Edmonton: 10 per cent
Calgary:       4 per cent
Ottawa:        4 per cent
Raleigh:       4 per cent
Columbus:   2 per cent

That’s us. Dreadtown. Worse than Buffalo. Which is like being told you and your neighbor both have rotten teeth, but you’re worse because you’ve got bad breath, too.

“It’s always cold,” one player griped about Good Ol’ Hometown. “It’s just dirty—you walk around the city and feel like you need to wash your face after you go outside.”

Hey, maybe that’s why Dustin Byfuglien went AWOL. He got tired of washing his face.

Naw. Can’t be that. After all, I’ve been away from Winnipeg for 20 years now, but I still wash my face every day. I’m guessing that Big Buff does, too, unless he’s in his fishing hut, in which case all bets are off.

Anyway, I’ve heard a lot of insulting comments about Pegtown over the years. Still do. But that face-washing thing is a new one on me. Like, Toronto’s the Big Smoke and we’re what? The Big Soap?

“Winnipeg is just depressing,” groused another player. “You don’t even want to leave the hotel to get a cup of coffee.”

Listen, man, I’ll concede that Good Ol’ Hometown has a bit of a Cold War-era Moscow vibe during the winter, but why do you think NHL brass doesn’t frown on rec drugs? They’ve seen downtown Winnipeg. Whatever gets you through the night, right?

Even the praise from at least one NHLer was faint.

“Wherever you go,” he said, “they always have TSN on.”

Oh joy. I’m sure Tourism Winnipeg will jump all over that as the theme for its next campaign to lure visitors to the Manitoba capital: “We’ve got the Museum of Human Rights, The Forks and Assiniboine Park Zoo, but come to River City for the TSN and stare at Jeff O’Dog’s butt cleavage during Trade Centre while hiding in your hotel room.”

You’d think us Peggers would be bummed out by a bunch of runny-nose millionaires describing our home as a scuzzbag burg, but no. Once you’ve been lampooned on The Simpsons, it takes more than a few cheap shots from the peanut gallery to put our frost-bitten noses out of joint.

Besides, those ESPN numbers could be a lot less flattering. I mean, had Emily reached out to the other 650-plus NHLers, I’m thinking Good Ol’ Hometown would have a higher disapproval rating than Justin Trudeau after the blackface pics surfaced.

So let’s be grateful for small sample sizes.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go wash my face.

Fishing with Big Buff…$8 million will buy a lot of Slurpees…Bombers put best foot forward…going ga-ga over Lady Gaga

I cannot survive in a 140-character world, so here are more tweets that grew up to be too big for Twitter…

Big Buff the fisher.

Ice fishing as a selling point. Who knew?

Not many National Hockey League free agents would think of a one-day, winter getaway to Matlock as a little slice of heaven, but spending a few hours in a small shack on a frozen Lake Winnipeg in sub-zero temperatures is Dustin Byfuglien’s idea of a swell time.

So he’s staying. In good, ol’ Hometown. For the next five winters. Thus, all those pike, perch and walleye are on notice: Big Buff is coming for you.

The Winnipeg Jets big blueliner didn’t cite ice fishing as one of the reasons he chose to forego untethered free agency and remain in River City, but it’s common knowledge that angling is among Byfuglien’s deepest passions, and the availability of dropping a line into a hole in the ice when the Jets aren’t busy losing hockey games surely played a part in his decision.

Will his signing help lure other free agents to Pegtown? Doubtful. But it does confirm a message the Jets began sending three years ago with the signings of Blake Wheeler, Bryan Little and Zach Bogosian—they are willing to spend the big bucks in order to keep their elite players in the fold. As much as bankrolls Mark Chipman and David Thomson operate on the cheap, they didn’t chintz out on Byfuglien. His sticker price of $7.6 million per annum is not pocket change.

I mean, 38 mill can buy a guy lot of live bait. Cripes, man, Buff can afford all of Lake Winnipeg now. And a few rivers to be named later.

Byfuglien will make more money ($8 million) next season than the entire Winnipeg Blue Bombers roster and the combined salaries of every member of the Manitoba Legislature. With a bit more than $2 million left over.

A Jumbo Jet Dog

Here’s what $8 million can buy Big Buff:

• 4,000,000 large Slurpees.
• 727,272 Mr. Big Nip Platters at The Sals.
• 727,272 10-piece orders of chicken wings at Hooters.
• 640,000 Jumbo Jet dogs with extra toppings at the Little Hockey House on the Prairie.
• 1,230,769 corned beef sandwiches at Oscar’s Deli.
• 533,333 visits to the Canadian Museum of Human Rights.
• 405,063 visits to the Assiniboine Park Zoo.
• 10,000 Nanook thermal two-man ice-fishing flip tents from The Fishin’ Hole.
• 347,826 Berkley Gulp Alive floating crawlers.
• Every shack on Wellington Crescent (except for that $11-million job).

Did I hear Grand Master Kevin Cheveldayoff correctly during his chin-wag with news scavengers after the Byfuglien signing became official? I swear the Jets general manager said his outfit’s current place in the Central Division pecking order is “a little bit of a blip.” Is that what we’re calling last place these days? A bit of a blip? Good grief, Chevy. Talk about losing the plot.

Now that the Jets’ Raging Dane, flyweight Nikolaj Ehlers, has added fighting to his repertoire, can we expect Anthony Peluso to start scoring goals? Naw. Life never works that way, does it.

Winnipeg Blue Bombers GM Kyle Walters vowed to put his best foot forward once the Canadian Football League’s annual free-agent livestock auction commenced, and he did exactly that in hiring Justin Medlock’s lower left limb. Medlock, late of the Hamilton Tiger-Cats, is only the most accurate kicker of footballs in the annals of the three-down game, and he replaces Sergio Castillo, who believes his field goal attempts are pre-determined by God. I don’t know about you, but I’ll take a guaranteed three points over a prayer every time.

Okay, it’s agreed. Cam Newton is a sore loser. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan Island. So what. Sure, it would have been wonderful had the Carolina Panthers quarterback been less pout and more polish during his meet-the-press gab session scant seconds after he and the Carolina Panthers had been beaten by the Denver Broncos in their Super Bowl 50 skirmish on Sunday, but, last time I looked, providing scintillating sound bites is not part of the gig for a National Football League QB. A guy like Peyton Manning can pull it off, win or lose. Ditto Tom Brady. Newton can’t, but it’s no biggie. It just means it’s unlikely he’ll be hosting Saturday Night Live any time soon.

How can you tell a friend of yours is gay? When he comes up to you the morning after Super Bowl 50 and insists on talking about Beyonce “walking it” during the halftime show and Lady Gaga’s rendering of the American national anthem rather than the Denver Broncos mauling of Newton. I must confess that I missed Beyonce, but I caught Lady Gaga’s act and was wowed by her outfit. Still can’t get over the sparkling red eye shadow (Note to self: Must, must, must get some of that stuff!), the blue polish on the nails, the blue shoe on his left foot and the red-and-white striped shoe on her right. Oh, ya, her singing was boffo, too. Love the Lady. My gay friend Markus prefers Beyonce.

Patti Dawn Swansson has been writing about Winnipeg sports for 45 years, longer than any living being. Do not, however, assume that to mean she harbors a wealth of sports knowledge or that she’s a jock journalist of award-winning loft. It simply means she is old and comfortable at a keyboard (although arthritic fingers sometimes make typing a bit of a chore) and she apparently doesn’t know when to quit. Or she can’t quit.
She is most proud of her Q Award, presented to her in 2012 for her scribblings about the LGBT community in Victoria, B.C., and her induction into the Manitoba Sportswriters & Sportscasters Association Media Roll of Honour in 2015.