Viewpoint—Larry O’Brien’s football prank is a low form of politics

By David Whalen

Rare are the occasions when columnists can fuse football and politics. But recently, Ottawa Mayor Larry O’Brien offered just such an opportunity.

Gripping a football, O’Brien posed for newspaper photographers to help illustrate his personal endorsement of a plan to bring a CFL team back to Ottawa. The plan would see Frank Clair Stadium renovated and much of Lansdowne Park turned over to private development with the aim of convincing the CFL the city is ready for its third try at football.

The stunt reeked of public relations. Silly, overwrought public relations. When politicians are in trouble, they try to wed their convictions to another issue – preferably one with visuals.

O’Brien, dogged by failed tax policies and bad press stemming from private meetings in the lead up to last year’s election, is now the patron saint of the pigskin. Surely, Frank Clair Stadium’s integrity will be restored in short order and this melancholy football-less period will go down as an historical aberration worthy of the history books.

Regardless of what you think of O’Brien’s plan – or that of councillors Clive Doucet and Peter Hume, who instead favour an international design competition to redevelop the park – the photo op leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

Seeing O’Brien play the quarterback is reminiscent of another politician closely associated with football. The late Gerald Ford had the distinction of being the only president of the United States to tackle a Heisman Trophy winner – albeit not when he was in office. In 1934, playing for the University of Michigan Wolverines, Ford nixed a run by University of Chicago half back Jay Berwanger, the first winner of the trophy awarded to the best player in American collegiate football.

Long before he assumed the office tainted by Richard Nixon in 1974, Ford was a revered centre and linebacker. So refined were his skills on the gridiron that he was hotly recruited by NFL teams when he came out of college. He chose instead to pursue a career in law and eventually got into politics.

He climbed the ladder all the way to the vice-presidency and stepped in when Nixon was forced to resign. Though deeply unpopular at the time, Ford chose to pardon Nixon’s Watergate transgressions, believing a prolonged trial would air too much dirty laundry and result in loss of public faith in the political system. Since, historians have applauded Ford’s willingness to sacrifice political expediency in exchange for doing what was necessary to allow his country to move on. Such acts of selflessness are extremely and increasingly rare in politics.

In contrast, O’Brien’s tactics cheapen Ottawa fans’ love of the game and create the illusion that another CFL team is around the corner. Worse, they aim to divert the public’s attention away from his troubles and the bigger issues, such as the city’s infrastructure, which is decades behind where it should be.

At this point, it’s useful to recall another anecdote from American political history. In 1988, running for vice president, a youthful then-Senator Dan Quayle compared his qualifications to those of John F. Kennedy during a televised debate.

“Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy,” rebutted his opponent, Lloyd Bentsen, with devastating effect.

Mayor, you’re no Gerald Ford.