Strange article, seems to mention the Argos and yet seems positive, I'm confused. You won't believe this but a pig flew by and almost hit me in the head - elly
Cheer up T.O. - You've got the Argos
Mike Strobel Toronto Sun March 30, 2014
You have to laugh at how we’re “the city of losers,” just because of the Leafs’ latest swoon.
Pundits, including Toronto Sun colleagues, point also to last year’s painful Blue Jays season and the long-term mediocrity — could this finally be the year? — of the Raptors and TFC.
There’s even a high school course on the art of losing in Toronto sports.
Well, what are the Argonauts, chopped liver?
We keep forgetting about those guys. Those — shudder! — winners.
They are one year removed from a Grey Cup and have won six since the Leafs embraced Lord Stanley’s mug.
On Sunday, I helped judge the Argos cheerleader finals at Scarborough Town Centre and the mall’s centre court was packed, reverberating with that weird chant, “Argoooos,” part lament, part pride.
That’s the thing about the Argonauts. They hang around in malls like the rest of us, not under chandeliers or in limos.
They’re organic. Only an Argos crowd would include a rabbit, Sunki (Hopi for “to catch up with”) wearing a double-blue sweater and chilling in a pram.
The team, founded in 1873, goes so far back in our civic psyche we all seem to have a connection.
My grandfather, Archie Stewart, had a stint with the Argos before joining the Grey Cup winning Balmy Beachers in 1930.
The Leafs may be the glamor boys, but, hell, the Argos are family.
Even the cheerleaders. In the throng of fans, I bump into Laura Potter-Muff, 54.
A year or two or three ago, Laura tried out for the Argo cheer squad. She was a pompom practitioner at George Harvey Collegiate, on Keele St., near Eglinton Ave., back in the day of cartwheels and sis-boom-bah. But the Argos wanted dancers.
She didn’t make the first cut.
“I can’t dance,” Laura tells me. “When the rest of the girls sashayed left, I went somewhere else entirely.
“No danceability at all. I still do the same steps I did in high school and at my wedding.”
The talent must skip a generation, or it’s the lessons starting at age three, because daughter Vanessa, 18, sure can dance.
She’s one of 46 finalists high-stepping and speechifying for us judges, including singer Karl Wolf.
Sadly, she does not get my question, which is: “What advice would you give Rob Ford?”
“I think he should keep doing what he’s doing ... he loves life,” says a long blonde named Kimberly, to a roar from the Scarberians — which would have scared any of my downtown neighbours to death.
Ford Nation shops at Scarborough Town Centre.
Instead, Vanessa fields a query about healthy food, then nails her routine.
Her mom’s in her head. “Shoulders back. Stand straight. Smile...”
It works. She makes the squad of 25 — more than three decades after her mom fell short.
“She’s living vicariously through me,” says Vanessa, a dance and education student at York. “No, seriously, she’s my biggest supporter and my inspiration.”
As a dancer?
“Hmmm. Well, I do get my stage presence from her,” she says, with all the tact required of an Argos cheerleader.
You need tact when you’re part of a winning team in Toronto.
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