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Mr. Cherry’s suits
So Don Cherry is off the air —or at least the air controlled by Rogers. The suggestion is that he was fired after he rejected the opportunity to make the sort or grovelling apology that his co-host Ron MacLean made early last week.
A nation waited with bated breath last Saturday to see what would become of the Coach’s Corner slot. A sombre Mr. Maclean, appearing solo, pronounced Coach’s Corner dead, and left viewers to wonder whether his friendship with Mr. Cherry was also dead. Mr. Maclean said he chose principle over friendship in denouncing Mr. Cherry’s remarks, although he was fortunate that choosing principle also meant he kept his job—at least for now.
I can’t add much to the debate about whether Mr. Cherry should have been fired. As far as I can see, the television people got what they paid for when they hired him. He was always operating in murky territory, so it ought to have been no surprise that he crossed the line. I have no doubt that, if he feels so inclined, he could resurrect himself on some YouTube channel and carry on much as before, presumably, though, without Mr. MacLean.
I will miss Mr. Cherry—not for his political views, nor his hockey analysis, but for his willingness to dip into his pocket and produce an outrageous suit with every appearance he made. The suits have become a mini-industry, spurring ‘best of Don Cherry’s suits’ tribute websites and even academic articles. With hindsight, perhaps the suits tended to distract people from the substance of the comments he made and allowed him to be cut a little more slack than he deserved. Perhaps, with hindsight, they were a good investment for him.
So what will happen to Mr. Cherry’s suits— each worn only once? He reportedly decided not to donate any of them to charity because he feared he would be inundated with requests. Perhaps he will change his mind and donate his entire collection to benefit an immigrant services organization. And spare a thought for Mr. Cherry’s tailor and suitmaker, and the shareholders of FabricLand, where Mr. Cherry personally selected the material from which his suits were made. Their lives will be much emptier without his regular purchases.
So where am I going to get my sartorial jollies now that Mr. Cherry is out of commission?
One approach might be to appoint another natty dresser to appear on hockey telecasts—if one can be found.
The only candidate who springs to mind is Nicholas Lowry, who will be known to watchers of Antiques Roadshow as the man who appraises posters and who sports a collection of outrageous tartan suits. It would not be a big step for him to move beyond plaid into florals, stripes and other motifs. The slight bugaboo would be that I am not sure how much Mr. Lowry knows about hockey. According to his biography, his interests include ‘finding treasures in flea markets and garage sales, long hikes in the mountains, and drinking scotch while listening to heavy metal music.” No hint of any exposure to NHL hockey there, although the heavy metal music shows some promise.
Mr. Cherry’s suits should remind us that clothing is a vital part of a complete public image. And a quick survey of our political leaders suggests the possibility that more could be done with clothing. For instance, what if Andrew Scheer decided to do himself over? He wouldn’t necessarily have to slavishly adopt the Cherry style (high collar and double breasted jacket): perhaps a Toronto Raptors T-shirt, a replica middle finger championship ring and generous neck tattoos might be enough to persuade voters to take a fresh look at him and see him as a hip 905er instead of a social conservative from the deepest suburbs of Ottawa. Perhaps Justin Trudeau could take his inspiration from the Village People and rig himself out like an unemployed pipeline construction worker with a hard hat tethered to his jeans to show his affinity for the west And maybe Jumpin’ Jasmeet Singh could add to his gravitas quotient by abandoning his neck tie and adopting the trendy George Kent, foreign policy intellectual just like Lester Pearson, slightly askew bow tie look.
And why stop at politicians.? Take the At Issue panel on The National. What if Andrew Coyne were to wear an open necked shirt with a long collar, Las Vegas gambler style? He’d certainly attract more attention. And if Chantal Hébert were to wear a white leather pantsuit emblazoned with Montreal Canadiens logos, she would be a much more commanding presence.
Don Cherry may be gone from public view, but his suits live on—if only to remind us that while clothes may not make the man, they at least have a lot to say about him.
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