National Post (National Edition)
Edmonton's Joey Moss challenged all of us to be better
EDMONTON'S JOEY MOSS CHALLENGED ALL OF US TO BE BETTER
SOMEONE WHO LEFT A MARK ON PEOPLE BY BEING VULNERABLE, SELFLESS. — SPEER
Next week marks Canadian Down Syndrome Week, which is an opportunity to celebrate the contributions of Canadians with Down syndrome to our country and their communities. It builds on National Down Syndrome Awareness Month, which has run throughout October in Canada, the United States and elsewhere.
These back-to-back celebrations are intended to raise awareness and give Canadians with Down syndrome a stage to show off their talents and accomplishments. The upcoming week will see various online events including educational presentations, community celebrations and people wearing mismatched socks to symbolize the chromosomal characteristics that make those with Down syndrome special and unique.
That Canadian Down Syndrome Week is being held now is timely for two reasons. The first is that the COVID-19 pandemic has significantly impacted the roughly 45,000 Canadians with Down syndrome. Like other disability groups, they've been disproportionately affected by job losses, social isolation and health risks. Canadian Down Syndrome Week is therefore a much-needed chance to shift the narrative for them and their families from one of anxiety and attenuation to solidarity and joy.
The second is that this week we lost one of the country's most recognizable Canadians with Down syndrome, Joey Moss, the longtime locker room attendant for the Edmonton Oilers and Edmonton Eskimos. He was 57 years old.
Moss's story is a testament to how people with Down syndrome can make big and small differences in the world around them. He joined the Oilers in 1984 when Wayne Gretzky was dating his sister. He became a part of the Eskimos two years later and held roles with both organizations for 30 years.
By all accounts, his impact on those teams was profound. His official responsibilities were to help with laundry, fill water bottles, hand out towels and clean the locker room. But Mosser, as he was known to players and staff, did much more than that. He was a daily inspiration to those around him. Without even trying, he challenged everyone else to be better, as Gretzky and others have poignantly expressed in recent days.
His impact extended far beyond the locker room. Moss was an icon in Edmonton in general and among the Down syndrome community in particular. He leaves a physical legacy in the form of Joey's Home, an assisted living residence for people with development disabilities built in 2007 and managed by the Winnifred Stewart Association.
But his real legacy is the example of how he lived his life and what that meant to others — particularly young people with disabilities. As former Oilers tough guy Georges Laraque has said: “he showed them that, if they had dreams to do something, they could do it … He was a symbol of hope for them.”
For these contributions, Moss received multiple accolades and recognitions including a Diamond Jubilee medal in 2012 and induction into the Alberta Sports Hall of Fame in 2015. He became an unlikely yet deserving hero in his hometown and across the sports and disabilities worlds.
Moss' passing has been marked by an overwhelming reaction from Hall of Fame athletes, politicians, members of the Edmonton community, and Canadians across the country. Words like “adoration,” “beloved,” “role model,” “superstar” and “legend” have been used to describe him and his lasting influence.
These superlatives haven't just come from people who knew him either. As one hockey writer put it: “They'd never met Joey, but sports fans, and people in the community, connected with Joey. He impacted many without ever meeting them.”
This resonates with me. My rational side tells me that I shouldn't really be affected by his passing. I never met him after all. But, on some unexplained level, I was touched by his life and I'm sad that he's gone.
The stories and statements from former players and colleagues may provide an explanation. At a time when many of us are struggling to find purpose and meaning, Moss offered a different, better way to live. This is someone who left a mark on people by being vulnerable, selfless and utterly devoid of cynicism.
It's telling that so many successful people (including some of the greatest hockey players of all time) seem kind of envious of the guy who cleaned the locker room. We aspire to have the serenity and joy that comes from fully living in the moment. Money and fame cannot buy that. Joey Moss had it in spades.
We're all made from crooked timber. People like Joey's crookedness is just a bit more evident. But in spite of that — or perhaps because of it — they seem less self-conscious and guarded and more genuine and joyful. Moss's lesson is that true contentment is a simple yet counter-cultural act: its key sources are radical vulnerability, interdependency, and living in the here and now.
As Canadians prepare to celebrate Canadian Down Syndrome Week, we can take inspiration from Joey Moss's legacy. He not only showed that there are no limits to what people with developmental disabilities can do. He challenged the rest of us to be better.