Last Christmas, with my Toronto Maple Leafs clicking along about fourth or fifth in the NHL standings, Matthews netting goals in threes (it seemed) every other night, Ilya Samsonov looking like Johnny Bower between the pipes, and even Sheldon Keefe exuding confidence behind the bench, my daughter gave me a most appropriate gift. It was a Leafs blue T-shirt, complete with logo and an inscription.
“Just once before I die,” it reads. (more…)
Last winter, during one of the daily meetings with my staff at the Toronto Observer (the online newspaper produced by senior journalism students at Centennial College where I teach), one of my student reporters faced a dilemma. We had assigned her to attend the funeral of Sgt. Ryan Russell, the Toronto Police Service officer killed by a stolen pickup truck with a snow plow. It was too late for her to get a press pass to the funeral. So how, she wondered, would she get into the ceremony?
“Do I hide the fact I’m a reporter?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s a public funeral. You should be able to get in. But if they ask you not to take photographs, respect their wishes.”