For years, the people said that the NFL stood for “No Fun League” – touchdown celebrations were prohibited, messages on uniforms, helmets, and shoes elicited fines. Eventually, the NFL lightened up quite a bit, although I admit that I am tired of the end zone pantomimes that defensives feel they need to have on every turnover whether it’s a touchdown or not.
At the same time, I am skeptical of any corporation that advertises its support for left wing causes, because most often, it is a minimal effort to build goodwill with progressives. Sometimes however, the institution shows its hypocrisy. The NHL has, for several years advertised various specialty nights for Black History Night, Military Appreciation Night and Pride Nights. Special jerseys were often worn in warmups and either raffled off or auctioned to support the cause of the night.
Should be easy and straightforward, sure, some people will be offended, there’s always people who are insulted by everything. That is, unless some of the players take issue. Problem with Blacks? No, at least not openly. The military? Only scumbag ex-Presidents do that. The LGBTQ+ community? It’s open season on them. The big bad monster in every MAGA’s closet and easy for the righteous to attack. While not alone, the most outspoken player was Flyers defenseman Ivan Provorov who refused to participate in the pregame skate wearing a Pride sweater because of his Russian Orthodox beliefs. At the time, NHL commissioner Gary Bettman asserted that the incident has not overshadowed the league’s messaging around inclusivity.
Soon after, the league released a memo to all 32 teams which stated on-ice uniforms and gear cannot be altered for themed nights. The guidance prohibits players from using special tape, like rainbow-colored Pride tape, on their hockey sticks. The NHL encouraged players to “express themselves off the ice” according to the AP. Several players—including Edmonton Oilers player Connor McDavid and New Jersey Devils player Jack Hughes—have used and vocally supported the Pride-themed tape on their sticks during games, and the company Pride Tape, an NHL partner and LGBTQ advocacy organization that sells Pride-themed sports merchandise, stating it is “extremely disappointed” in the NHL’s decision and urged the league and players to stand against homophobia.
According to reports, the NHL backed down from its ban, but it is interesting that the league would fold to bigots first, but maybe that’s the ugly underbelly of hockey. The league wasn’t through, however. Future Hall of Fame goaltender Marc-Andre Fleury, now a member of the Minnesota Wild announced that we would be wearing a Native American themed mask for last Friday’s game against Colorado, which was Native American Night. The league threatened Fleury’s agent and the team that fines would be levied if he wore the mask. Despite not playing in the game, Fleury wore the mask and said that he would pay the fine. Part of the reason Fleury had a special mask made for the game was that he wanted to pay tribute to his wife who is an Indigenous woman. He collaborated with a local artist in Minnesota.
As of this writing, no fine has been assessed against the team or the goaltender. Is this a boneheaded, racist move by the league? Considering how poorly the league often handles PR issues, I believe that they didn’t think anyone would notice. I think that they just hoped that the issue would quietly go away on its own. It always makes me wonder why the league pays Gary Bettman so many millions when he often can’t get out of his own way.

Whenever there’s an anniversary of a event, historic, cultural, whatever, there is a rush to look back at it, discuss it’s relevance, impact, legacy. The urge is even greater when it’s a “big” anniversary – a number with a zero or five at the end. In the case of a pop culture phenomenon, there is a urge to make money print and sell new books, and in the case of movies especially, re-release the original film in theaters or in new versions on video, and sometimes to have foresight enough to film remakes or sequels to the original film.
The current anniversary is of The Exorcist, arguably the most effective horror film in history. The recently deceased director William Friedkin’s film pushed filmgoer’s buttons. People were fainting, people were leaving theaters, and as a result, the lines were around the block in most cities. What made this film so powerful was that it taken seriously, filmed in a very documentary style, without the overbearing music, garish images and overwrought camera angles. Instead, the hospitals looked like regular hospitals, churches looked like real churches. Priests are people with real world issues; they commiserate over beers. The actresses at the center: Ellen Burstyn and Linda Blair were normal people, albeit rich and privileged people. Their house was tasteful and affluent. Ms. Burstyn played a successful actress, daughter Regan was a young girl who had issues like many girls especially with divorced parents/inattentive fathers who was possessed by a demon.
My single mother was a movie fan, and she needed someone to see films with her. As a result, I saw lots of films that were well above my age level. Shaft, The Godfather, Cotton Comes To Harlem, many other films that were definitely R rated when they were just starting to rate films. I begged my mother to take me to see The Exorcist, and I needed an adult – they were strict about R-rated movies and minors back in those days. I have to admit that the first time I saw it, the movie theater, the long-gone State-Lake Theater, was packed with mostly Black people. There was a Black woman in the theater who I never saw, just heard, thought that the film was hilarious, and I thought she was right, it was hilarious. The first 2 times I saw the film, I laughed nonstop. The third time however, I took the movie more seriously and saw the scare factor, which has been my impression ever since.
I don’t think I have ever shared the fact that my mother was an alcoholic, and a binge alcoholic since she worked 3 or 4 days per week, alternating weeks, 12-hours per day. When she was off, she was often on a bender. It was my childhood trauma, that which I still have therapy for. Sometime in the past, I determined that The Exorcist is the ultimate Adult Children of Alcoholics film (even though I have never been involved with the organization or attended a meeting). Every time a character went into Regan’s room, you never knew what to expect. The priest goes in and one time she’s strapped to the bed to have a conversation. Another time, all of the toys are flying around in a one room tornado. A separate time, she throws a man out of her window (off screen). Then she floats in the air; the famous crucifix masturbation scene. Obviously, my mother was not possessed, but one could never know what version of my mother you would get: sober, communicative, or; passed out on the couch or the floor or; combative and mean.
I post this not for sympathy, or even to get this off my chest. It’s just that with the commemoration of The Exorcist’s 50th anniversary, I’m fairly certain that no one other than my friend Wendi Walker and myself have ever interpreted the great horror film in this way.

Somehow, I never thought this day would come. I always thought about the jokes they make about Chuck Norris: Death once had a near Chuck Norris experience; Chuck Norris doesn’t cheat death, he wins fair and square. That is how I felt about Dick Butkus. He was the epitome of tough; best inside linebacker in NFL history; so great that his stories are legendary. His name is synonymous with linebacker – the best college linebacker of the year wins the Butkus Award. A Chicagoan through and through – played at Chicago Vocational High School; All-American at the University of Illinois; drafted by the Bears with the 3rd overall pick in the 1965 Draft. (It could be said that the Bears made the greatest back-to-back draft picks in NFL history: they had the Steelers 1st round pick at number 3 and their own pick at #4, where they drafted Gale Sayers.) Principled – when he felt that the Bears mistreated his injuries and underpaid him, he walked out, being a pariah to the ownership for decades. Loyal – married to his high school sweetheart for 60 years; once the McCaskeys realized that he was loved more than they were, decided to retire his jersey and bring him back as an ambassador.
Also, he was a smart, well-read man who used his fame and his reputation to become a character actor, sometime a tough guy, but more frequently, as a big softy. He was never a “star” on TV or movies, instead being a reliable actor like other former footballers like Bubba Smith, Fred Dwyer, Carl Weathers and yes, even O.J. Simpson.
While I only met the man twice, he was a force in my house. My grandfather, being light skinned and with wavy hair, had been able to pass for a white man for decades and spent many Sundays at Wrigley Field with my mother’s first husband. I always wanted to go to a game with him, but he got sick and died of cancer when I was 10. I remember watching the Bear roads games with him (they only showed road games back then) and he got me hyped up on number 51. After he died, I was able to go to one Bears game in which Butkus played, a preseason game against the Buffalo Bills and future double murderer O.J. Simpson. In an interview published later in his career, Simpson was asked whether he was ever scared on the field. He said that after a long run up the middle, Butkus yelled at him “if you run up the middle again, I’ll break your f^&*ing legs.” Sure enough, later in the game the play was called and this time, Simpson was tackled before the line of scrimmage and he could feel himself being lifted in the air, body slammed, and his legs getting twisted. Butkus is smiling “I told you not to run up the middle.”
My grandmother was a sports fan – she loved the Cubs and to a lesser extent, the Bears. My mother however, who was not a sports fan at all, loved football, the Bears and Butkus. In 1997, he wrote with Pat Smith another autobiography – “Butkus, Flesh and Blood” (the first was “Stop Action with was much more sugarcoated). There used to be a bookstore on the ground floor of the old Sears Tower (now “Willis Tower”) and Butkus was doing a signing. I had purchased three books, one for my grandmother, mother and I and I went to get them autographed. He looked at me ad said three? And I told them who they were for, and her personalized each one, and I was taking pictures of him and he asked didn’t I want one of us together, and I said yes, and he told the store manager to take our picture together. The pictures were Christmas presents to my folks that year. Years later, there was a Sports Illustrated party downtown and I was invited along with the Sportswriters TV group. Once again, I met him and he said that I looked familiar and I told him the story and asked about my folks.
I have followed sports my entire life and, in that time, I’ve been lucky to meet lots of athletes through work and happenstance. I met most of my heroes: Sayers, Ken Stabler Julius Erving, Magic Johnson, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar; got autographed pictures that I acquired over the years: Walter Payton, Dick Allen, Bjorn Borg. None of them mean quite as much to me as the memories of Dick Butkus. RIP…

Politics Spoiler Alert – I have stayed away from politics here on evilopinion.com unless it involved sports. My far left wing standing is easy to read. By the same token, I do not read current political books, Right or Left; tiresome preaching to the choirs, or books from disgruntled politicians or helpers of sycophants looking to save their reputations or gain a measure of revenge on their enemies. There are so many of these books, I have no time for them. The last “current politics” book I read was President Obama’s “A Promised Land,” and this week, former aide to Trump White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows Cassidy Hutchinson had her book published. Ms. Hutchinson came to prominence after having testified both privately and in public to the January 6th Congressional Committee. The biggest “scoops” from her testimony involved Trump’s actions on January 6th, his wish to head to the Capital with the insurrectionists which was denied by the Secret Service, and his actions back in the White House, where he watched it all unfold on television while refusing to make a statement for the people to go home (that is, until 4 hours after the insurrection had begun).
At the time of the testimony, I asked myself why did it take until January 6th for this young woman, then 24-years-old, to finally say “Enough?” She worked with Meadows for months during which time the administration mishandle the COVID-19 pandemic to the tune of over 1 million deaths, many of whom died because of ignorance and misinformation from the now four times indicted former Chief Executive; the roll back of abortion rights; cuddling up to Putin and Kim Jong Il. Why was it January 6th that finally got to her?
Again, I have no intention of buying much less reading this “book,” but I was intrigued enough to watch Ms. Hutchinson’s interview on left wing MSNBC with their star host Rachel Maddow. After the televised committee hearing a few months back, MSNBC and other more progressive news outlets started claiming Ms. Hutchinson as some kind of hero. Yes, I do applaud her courage in stepping up to tell the truth, but I have always been a bit skeptical of the hagiography made around anyone. So today, I watched a replay of the interview and am even more skeptical.
Yes, Ms. Hutchinson is an attractive young woman, but Ms. Maddow mentioned how she mentioned in the book that she “loved President Trump” for awhile while working in the White House and believed that the administration was doing good things. She proudly states that she remains a Republican, in the Mitt Romney/Ronald Reagan school. Of course, Reagan was one of the worst Presidents in history for the majority of people. Ms. Hutchinson admittedly was a military kid, so it makes some sense that her views would skew right wing.
The ante is raised by Ms. Hutchinson in her book accusing now disgraced former New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani for fondling her on January 6th. Further comments were made about Right Wing Rep. Matt Gaetz, basically saying that he is a jerk. Of course, there has to be more than just the testimony to make people buy the books, and I fully believe that the Pervert Nosferatu put his hands on the woman, but there is a bigger issue here. Up until the insurrection, she was surrounded by people who were basically corrupt and morally abhorrent, including time with Donald Trump, the malicious narcissist who nearly destroyed American democracy and is still trying through the Big Lie, running for president again and fighting to beat 91 criminal charges in Federal and state court.
So many of Trump’s enablers have written books – John Bolton, Michael Cohen, Michael Wolff, and so many more and let’s add Cassidy Hutchinson. People who will make a few bucks, hope they aren’t in prison, and pray that they can find meaningful work and/or live normal lives without having the constant cloud of notoriety hanging over their lives like Monica Lewinski. I do hope that Ms. Hutchinson goes on to a fine life. I also hope that she will learn to question the extreme positions of many of the people she follows.

Long time readers know that I have no love for Michigan State University and their football fans, but I am not blasting the school this time, although the administration has to be questioned. While I was away, I heard the allegations against Head Football Coach Mel Tucker and knew I’d be posting about it here before long.
Tucker was suspended on Sept. 10 after rape survivor and activist Brenda Tracy claimed that Tucker made unsolicited sexual comments in a recent phone conversation. Tracy, 47, is a rape survivor who has made informing athletes about sexual misconduct her life’s work. She was hired by the university to council athletes on things like consent.
Ms. Tracy recently claimed Tucker made unsolicited sexual comments and masturbated during an April 2022 phone call, which led to a formal Title IX complaint and investigation. Ms. Tracy claimed that Tucker made sexual comments towards her and masturbated while on the phone with her, reopening her wounds as a sexual assault survivor. Tucker, estranged from his wife with whom he shares two children, acknowledged the phone call and said he did masturbate, but claimed it was consensual phone sex. Around this time, Tucker said he became romantically interested and said they talked openly about it. Tucker said they made flirtatious comments about each other’s looks and bodies. Meanwhile, Tracy said Tucker’s romantic interest was one-sided.
As of this writing, MSU has informed Tucker that it is working on his termination. MSU Athletic Director Alan Haller noted in the statement that Tucker now has seven days to plead his case and try to keep his job. “This action does not conclude the ongoing Office for Civil Rights case; that rigorous process will continue,” Haller said.
I have long questioned MSU’s signing of Tucker. After Tucker did a very poor job as defensive coordinator with the Bears, and having one year of head coaching experience, a 5-7 result at Colorado, Tucker was a bit of a surprise hire at MSU in 2020. That Spartan team went 2-5 in the strange, COVID shortened 2020 season. Tucker led the team to a remarkable comeback in 2021, posting an 11-2 record, a Peach Bowl win, and finished ranked 9th in the country.
Here is where MSU erred in my opinion. They signed Tucker to a 10-year, $95 million deal in 2021, but the team was only 5-7 last year, and are 2-1 so far this season after getting trounced by Washington last Saturday. Harlon Barnett has taken over as Head Coach for the Spartans. They had a wonderful season in 2021, but I would have wanted to commit to Tucker for a short time to see if the performance would be replicated. Coaches who think they are invulnerable make mistakes, abuse their offices. Hubris is the ultimate failure, just as Pat Fitzgerald learned.

For the 21st time, I went up to Toronto for the Toronto International Film Festival. This was a very different festival: strikes by the writers and actors have caused major studios to postpone many releases, and with very few actors given the permission to attend (unless they have directed a film), the star power is low. The streets near the theaters, often blocked by people trying to get a glimpse of stars, are crowded but not impassible. The theaters are mostly full, but there aren’t many “big” American films playing. There were two events that I would have loved to attend but the tickets disappeared long before I could buy them: the 40th Anniversary of Talking Heads’ classic concert film “Stop Making Sense” with the four members of the band, who had not been together in over 20 years on stage with Spike Lee. The other is the new film by Hayao Miyazaki “The Boy and the Heron.” I’m sure that that Stop Making Sense will find its way to video, and Miyazaki’s film will be released to American theaters in November.

Silver Dollar Road

TIFF tends to highlight certain social trends in movies, especially documentaries. This year, my films seem to be split into two distinct groups: dramas and documentaries, and really strange action films. The first film I chose caught my attention because it was directed by Raoul Peck who directed “I Am Not Your Negro,” the Oscar winning documentary about James Baldwin which I saw at TIFF in 2016. This film is a little bit of a departure for Peck – the relatively straight-forward story of a Black Family, the Reels family who reside on waterfront land in North Carolina. When the patriarch passed away in the 1970s, another relative declared “adverse passion” meaning ownership and sold the land to a developer Adams Creek Associates.
One would think that this is a tedious film about a legal fight, except it mushroomed. Two of the uncles were issued a judge’s order to sign over the land and move. They refused and were arrested for trespassing. Arrested for trespassing, and the men stayed in jail for 8 years. I know of many friends who have had a similar situation with family members, real and fake and having to fight through the legal system to claim their birthright. Mr. Peck and two of the family members were in attendance. Unfortunately, the conflict continues; I hope the family wins and of course, there will need to be a sequel to let us know when the story is complete.
My only complaint with the film is that the start looks like so many other films about African-American heritage with the dusty brown patina and old blues music. It has become cliché to me and turned me off. Not to say that bringing hip hop within this time frame would have been better, but it did not distance itself from so many other movies. The story was too important to be belittled by the start of the film.
(Note: available to stream in October on Amazon Prime.)

One thing I forgot to post. On Friday night, I came out of the TIFF Bell Lightbox and there were a lot of people on John Street and loud music. I had forgotten that one of the TIFF movies was “Hate to Love: Nickelback.” For whatever reason, Nickelback is widely regarded as the worst rock band around. Personally, I have heard much worse, and they did sound good as I passed by. The band is Canadian, so this was like an upraised middle finger to their haters. I will have to see it soon.

Stamped From The Beginning

My second African-American documentary was just as good and with a much greater scope. Dr. Ibram X. Kendi, best known for the book “How To Be An Anti-Racist,” brought Roger Ross Williams (“The 1619 Project” and “Love To Love You, Donna Summer”) helms this study of the ways in which African-Americans have been shackled by the country’s views of Black people has contributed to the perceptions that non-Blacks have about Black people and that we have about ourselves.
This film uses animation, dramatic live action recreations, and numerous interviews wihth Dr. Kendi, Dr. Angela Davis and other top academics. It encompasses 400 years of history into a fast moving 90-minute film. It should be widely watched and distributed to all schools.
(Note: This film will be available to stream on Netflix before the end of 2023.)

One Life

It seems that I always have one Nazi movie per year at TIFF. This year, there were a couple to choose from but only one I could access. Lots of people have seen the TicToc video of a British TV show where this old man assisted children escape Czechoslovakia just before the Nazis invaded Poland and started World War II. That man was Nicholas Winton and in the clip, he was unknowingly surrounded by people who he had saved in the war. Even I, who don’t spend much time on Tik Toc, has seen the viral, very touching video.
It doesn’t take a medium to foresee a film about this story and this is it, the back story about what Mr. Winton did and the story leading up to the television reveal. This is a typically restrained BBC telling of the story with Sir Anthony Hopkins playing the elder Winton and Johnny Flynn playing a young Winton. The star-studded cast included Helena Bonham Carter playing Winton’ mother and a barely recognizable Lena Olin as Winton’s wife. For decades after the war, Winton kept the story to himself, especially downplaying his role in the rescue of 669 children. However, he was always scarred by the capture of the last train with 250 kids sent back to their parents, where all but two of them reportedly died. I do find it funny that the action was spurred by Mrs. Winton nagging her husband to get rid of the boxes of papers that had accumulated in his office to make room for a grandchild.
Hopkins, as always was excellent, as was the entire rest of the cast. When the scene of the recreation of the television came, I don’t believe there was a dry eye in the house. That continued after the film ended. Before the film, director James Hawes (who’s name was familiar and then I recognized that he had directed some episodes of Doctor Who in the Ecceleston and Tennant eras) suggested that people stay for the Q & A afterward. No, Sir Anthony didn’t break the picket line; Mr. Hawes introduced an elderly woman who lives in Canada and was one of “Nikki’s Children.” Then several other people came to their feet as children of other survivors.
I’m not crying; you’re crying.

Bargain

So far, I have seen documentaries and a drama, so it was time to start with the bizarre action films. This was actually not a “film,” it was the first two episodes of a six-part South Korean series, and this film starts strange and gets weirder. This series starts with a woman who has lured a man to a hotel in the middle of nowhere, promising that if he pays her $1,000, he will be having sex with a virgin. The man is a bit of a nerd, but as we find out later he is a police officer.
Then the story gets weirder under the direction of Woo-Sung Jeon. The man is captured and strapped to a gurney. Someone has drawn on him approximating where his organs are; he is going to have his organs auctioned off to a group of strange bidders. In the middle of the auction, but before the man can have his organs removed, there is a tremendous earthquake destroying most of the hotel but leaving a huge hole through the hotel that leads to an area of water. Characters find themselves falling into the subbasement; new, even stranger characters are down there and the cop and the original “virgin” girl find themselves helping each other to sort through this whole mess. It is strange.
I would like to see the other four episodes, but I guess it’s going to be on Paramount + which I don’t have.