What a delight to see my old compadre Rosie DiManno trying her hand at satire.
In her Toronto Star column last week, the ol’ Riveter was casting aspersions at young Justin Trudeau, making her one of the Liberal bauble head’s few detractors at the Grits’ in-house organ:
“…Justin’s sunny ways have amounted to little more than a fetching axiom, a tone, like President Barack Obama’s failed proclamation of hope and change.
“I was in Chicago the night Obama took the stage after winning his first White House term, sitting in the press room when the flower of American political media burst into applause as the results were announced. I thought: And you call yourselves journalists. Journalistic hagiography makes me cringe.”
Fortunately, Rosie’s lofty principles never prevented her from getting close and snugly with others she covers – Pat Burns, for instance – and having dinner parties with Blue Jays managers as guests of honour.
Who can forget her foamer about the late Leafs coach, and his belated acceptance into the Hockey Hall of Fame?
“Shamefully late, this call to the Hall, when [Burns] should really have been summoned back in 2010, when everybody knew he was dying,” she wrote in 2014.
No mention, of course, that Rosie had for years been Burns’ mambo partner and head cheerleader, cranking out countless pro-Pat stories in the Star, never once burdening readers with the knowledge of her horizontal sourcing. It was a decorous silence she also maintained in her 2012 opus, Coach: The Pat Burns Story.
Nor does Rosie ever divulge her own valuable contribution to the Leafs, who she covered back in the eighties.
Is it possible Rosie managed to pick up some money on the side, editing various in-house publications for the NHL team?
And how about those wonderful dinner parties with Blue Jays management as guests of honour?
Fortunately, Star brass, ever vigilant for conflicts of interests among hacks, knew all about Rosie’s moonlighting activities and gave their blessing.