I'LL TELL YA WHAT . . . BR-RRRR-I-AN WIL-LI-AMS, THE TRIUMPH OF BLAND AND THE CBC'S SINKING SHIP

The stuff you may have missed while wondering how hard it would be to take out on a hit on the co-worker who revealed the ending to The Sopranos ... then you remembered you're the type of guy who had look up "money laundering" in the dictionary.

"It is just after 1:30 a.m. here in Ottawa, which means it is 10:30 in Vancouver, 12:30 in Winnipeg, and after 3 a.m. in Newfoundland, home province of Canadian Olympic men's curling skip Brad Gushue.

"Once again, I'm Br-rrrr-i-an Wil-li-ams, coming to you live from the Olympic broadcast centre in Toronto. Joining me here in the studio is Neate Sager of Out of Left Field.

"Neate Sager, tell me, your thoughts, on, Br-rrrr-i-an Wil-li-ams defecting from CBC to CTV?"

OK, so that's the best I can do for parodying what's almost become parody-proof: Br-rrrr-i-an Wil-li-ams' broadcasting style. We're not talking about NBC's Brian Williams. To give those of you in the States a mental portrait of Br-rrrr-i-an, let's just say he makes his Stateside namesake look like Kanye West by comparison. He's so white, in fact, that he can be seen from outer space.

Truth be known, Br-rrrr-i-an is fascinating, since he's such an atavism. He's a holdover from the Ron Burgundy era when TV talking heads were all flawless brush cut, WASPey rectititude, rolled R's, e-nun-c-ia-tion (or as my friend Greg Hughes once called it, "Shatnerizing") and most of all, carefully studied gestures.

Br-rrrr-i-an has 'em all:

• Putting both elbows on the desk when he wants to project intense focus;
• Prefacing comments with, "I'll tell ya what," so as to sound like an average Joe;
• Tapping his pencil like a musician keeping time and glancing up from his desk as the camera comes up on him, to show he's been waiting for you, old friend;
• Calling people by their full names; after all, the hoi polloi must know the See Bee See is beyond the pale compared to the swine they let on air at the other networks;

On top of all that, Br-rrrr-i-an is one in the long line of Canadian public figures who succeed in this country not in spite of being bland, but by virtue of their blandness.

This is lovingly ripped off from Will Ferguson's brilliant piss-take Why I Hate Canadians, but Canadians, for the most part, have long cherished public figures who project a bland persona and/or perpetual awkwardness, figuring it's just a put-on. Ferguson figured this was how Joe Clark got elected PM; the shoe -- a brown loafer that pinches in the toes and will probably be worn with a black suit at some point -- probably fits Stephen Harper pretty well.

Hell, maybe this explains how our country toleratees generation after generation of hockey players skilled at answering every question in garden-variety clichés. We learn to like it. But that's another column.

At least that's how Canadians used to be, back when it seemed like the peak of existence in this country was to either end up in some government job or be an associate professor of something -- job security and a decent wage to do a half-assed job where you never worried about having your feet held to the fire.

The analogy still fits in the case of the CBC, since outside of sports coverage, the audience essentially consists of old farts, young farts who think old, people who don't have cable and Can-Con culture-vultures who will probably go on to write a Ph. D thesis about "The Rapture of Rick Mercer." If the Tragically Hip penned a song about the Corpse (hat tip to Frank magazine), it would be titled Behind By A Century.

So if Br-rrrr-i-an -- the one guy, who more than anyone, embodies the failed dream of a public broadcaster connecting and edifying a fragmented nation -- is jumping ship to the other team, it's a sign the CBC is leaking oil three lanes wide. That was already obvious after it lost the Olympics and had a labour dispute last summer that well, pretty much affected no one's life except for the affected employees and their families.

You could see this coming since the Corpse, racked by falling revenues, pulled a small-town cheap move by having Br-rrrr-i-an do his Olympic prime-time hosting gig from a studio in Toronto, conducting interviews via satellite.

No, his leaving alone doesn't mean the Corpse's goose is cooked. However, it is a symbol of how out of whack it is as a so-called institution. You can go on and on about and describe Br-rrrr-i-an as "venerated" and the "dean of Canadian sports broadcasters," but the reality is, there is no such thing in this country.

The fringe is at the centre now and The Corpse just keeps throwing dirt on its own grave so long as they keep failing to admit it (or worse yet, make ham-handed attempts to re-brand itself). Br-rrrr-i-an is a vapour. We'll just learn to put up with him on another network every two years.

At least we'll be able to play the Brian Williams Drinking Game for a few years yet.

(Incidentally, while it's a safe bet Br-rrrr-i-an never carried on like Ron Burgundy in Anchorman, he probably would keep his head on a swivel if he got involved in a rumble between rival news teams.)

OTHER BUSINESS

• Oh, yes, myself and the Blue Jays are on a break. You can take your angst-ridden despair and stuff it -- after games like Sunday's and last night's 4-0 loss to the Orioles, being a fair-weather fan seems really attractive.
• Neal Pollack has a share in an L.A. Dodgers ticket package: "My deal with my friends has been this: I pay for the ticket and parking, and you drive so I can get high before the game. Also, you need to buy the food." Anyone who can work this into an essay about his son's first major-league game -- "Obviously, with Elijah along for the ride, I bought the food, I drove, and I didn't get high" -- is absolutely fearless.
• R.I.P., Eric Gregg. You left us far too soon. (ESPN.com, Philadelphia Inquirer.)
• Mental note: if you aspire to be a high-level NHL executive, it's probably good to have "public relations spokesman at FEMA" or "marketing director, Kansas City Royals" on your resumé. You'd need that kind of experience to be able to match Gary Bettman's attempt to put a positive spin on the NHL's TV ratings.
• Hey Jenny Slater has contrasted NCAA football teams with Simpsons characters. (Via Deadspin.) Juxtaposing Abe Simpson with a picture of Penn State coach Joe Paterno -- why didn't I think of that? Here's a Top 10:
  
  Alabama Crimson Tide: Moe Szyslak: "Yes, Alabama, you went 3-8 not that long ago ... But you're still better than dirt. Well, not that fancy store-bought dirt. That stuff's loaded with nutrients. You can't compete with that stuff."
  Michigan Wolverines: Kent Brockman. "... neither is quite as relevant as they think. At least three losses in six straight seasons? Now, at the risk of being unpopular, this reporter places the blame for all of this squarely on YOU, the viewers."
  Michigan State Spartans: Gil. "All together now: 'Damn, that felt like a Big 10 championship season!' It always begins the same with these guys, so hopeful, so full of promise, but they always manage to blow it sometime before the deal is closed."
  Illinois Fighting Illini: Milhouse. "Everything's coming up Illini! Yeah, sure it is."
  New Mexico State Aggies: Wendell. "Best-case scenario at this point is probably just making it through one bus ride/one game without vomiting all over themselves."
  Oregon Ducks: Rainier Wolfcastle. "... with Nike dumping all of that money into the Ducks' program, they can afford to sleep on top of a pile of money, with many beautiful ladies."
  Kansas State Wildcats: Dr. Nick Riveira. "Neither a degree from Hollywood Upstairs Medical College nor a schedule containing Troy State, McNeese State and UMass ... can be considered anywhere close to the measure of a true contender."
  Arizona State Sun Devils: Duffman (the guy in a costume who spreads awareness of Duff). "... when all is said and done, they're usually exposed as just a bunch of drunks."
  UCLA Bruins: Troy McClure. "... the celebrity sheen masks a distinct lack of substance -- McClure can't really act, while the Bruins can't really play any defense."
  N.C. State Wolfpack: Otto the Bus Driver. "Constantly keep people guessing as to whether there's really any higher brain function going on up there or not."

That's all for now. Well, not really -- there's still Game 1 of the Stanley Cup final to discuss.