The Hamilton Spectator

Deep Thoughts

Cherry isn’t in the Hall of Fame, but Ballard is, and other (not so) deep thoughts

- Scott Radley

A few random thoughts for the weekend as we celebrate National Selfie Day.

Because, yeah, what we really need is an official day to remind people to take more duck-lip shots for their Instagram feed ...

Still bizarre

This week was the anniversar­y of surely the craziest day in the history of sports.

On June 17, 1994, the New York Rangers held their Stanley Cup parade before the New York Knicks hosted the Houston Rockets in the NBA Finals, the World Cup kicked off in Chicago, Arnold Palmer played his last competitiv­e round of golf at the U.S. Open and, oh yeah, there was that little O.J. Simpson Ford Bronco thing.

Ah yes, the chase. You’ll recall people lined the highway and stood on overpasses holding up signs saying things like “Save the Juice” and “Run O.J. Run.”

One question about that: How did they get them made so fast?

Do Los Angelenos typically keep Bristol Board and felt markers in the trunk of their cars just in case a former-football-star-turned-movie-actor is accused of slaughteri­ng his wife and goes on the run and you happen to be nearby and feel the need to encourage him?

You can’t do that

Ford is introducin­g its new Bronco on July 9. Simpson’s birthday. True story.

Hopefully Kool Aid doesn’t know when Jim Jones was born.

What if?

Had things been normal these days, the Tiger-Cats would’ve been playing the Argos on Saturday night at BMO Field.

That’s rough for Hamilton fans. And Toronto fans.

Hmmm ...

Um, has anybody heard anything about that $150 million the CFL was asking the federal government for? Anyone?

Swing and a miss

It’s hard to imagine that a sports documentar­y about the1998 home-run chase between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa could be anything but amazing. It’s harder to imagine one on that topic could get destroyed by critics. But Long Gone Summer managed to do just that. “It was the first 30 for 30 ever that I can remember that was just flat-out bad and boring. More than bad and boring, it was weird,” wrote Sports Illustrate­d. What a shame. That summer was one of the great baseball dramas of all time. Few seasons in sports captured the public’s attention as thoroughly and provided so much joy for so many.

Until, y’know.

What you don’t know

About that Summer of ’98. Is innocence bliss? Do you wish we’d never found out the back story about McGwire and Sosa and what was going on behind the scenes so we could have just enjoyed that run or are you glad the truth came out so baseball could try to clean up the game?

Discuss among yourselves.

But it is

Speaking of sports documentar­ies, watched every minute of the 10-part Michael

Jordan piece (as everyone else apparently did) the other week. Also watched every minute of the two-part Lance Armstrong doc. Everyone lost their minds about the Jordan one. Greatest thing ever. Most fantastic piece of filmmaking since Citizen Kane. Proof he’s the greatest of all time. Blah, blah, blah.

The Armstrong one was better.

Glaring absence

Hockey Hall of Fame voters will meet Tuesday to decide who gets in this year. They’re permitted to induct four male players, two female players and two builders. Debate who those players are all you like. But one person who should be a shoo-in — only because voters have messed up by not putting him in already — is Don Cherry.

Love him or hate him, his impact on the game for decades can’t be ignored. He generated more debates and drew more people to the TV on Saturday nights than anyone else. And it’s the hockey hall of fame. Other than maybe Wayne Gretzky, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone around the game with a higher profile.

Your Question

Name the six teams added to the NHL during the league’s first expansion in 1967.

Answer below.

What about Paul?

About that Hall of Fame process, for years, purists have argued that Paul Henderson should not be inducted because his legacy really rests on three magnificen­t games in Moscow.

Fair enough. But, if that achievemen­t doesn’t rise to a high enough level of long-term excellence, how is Lord Stanley of Preston in the hall considerin­g his entire hockey resumé consists of buying and donating a single silver bowl?

Ahem

One more thing about the hall. If some people say Cherry shouldn’t be in because he was contrarian or offensive or loud-mouthed, please explain Harold Ballard’s induction.

Oh please do it

If you have a horse you’re planning to race that you haven’t named yet, please go with one of these selections (all from ranker.com): Harry Trotter, Maple Stirrup, Usain Colt, Talk Derby To Me, Pony Soprano or David Hasselhoof.

The great dads

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. Especially those who weren’t athletes themselves or aren’t necessaril­y huge sports fans but recognize that passion in their sons or daughters so they build a backyard rink despite the fact that it’ll kill the grass. Then they get up at unearthly hours of the morning to get their kids to practices on the other side of town where they stand in a freezing cold arena or on the sideline of a blazing hot field and cheer quietly but earnestly, never making a scene or creating a fuss and never telling the coach that their kid should be playing a different position or on a line with a different player. All the while charting saves or shots simply because their kid asked them to. And then, on the ride home, compliment­ing the good things junior did and encouragin­g more of that rather than badgering him or her for the mistakes he or she made. My dad, in other words.

Your Answer

The six expansion teams were the California Seals (not the Golden Seals, that came later), Los Angeles Kings, Minnesota North Stars, Philadelph­ia Flyers, Pittsburgh Penguins and St. Louis Blues.

Scott Radley is a Hamilton-based sports columnist at The Spectator. Reach him via email: sradley@thespec.com

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 ?? PHOTO COURTESY OF SCOTT RADLEY ?? Scott Radley and his dad, Ron, on the backyard rink in the winter of 1970.
PHOTO COURTESY OF SCOTT RADLEY Scott Radley and his dad, Ron, on the backyard rink in the winter of 1970.

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