One of the things I miss about living in Canada and reading the Globe & Mail every morning over breakfast is the sports column by Stephen Brunt. He is one of my favorite sportswriters anywhere, ever. In fact, between Brunt and TV columnist John Doyle, it almost made up for the frequent bouts of dyspepsia brought on by the columns of Margaret Wente (or even, way back in the day, the Harris-ism by rote of Terence Corcoran, before he shuffled off to the National Post. I once chipped a tooth by biting down on my fork in rage over some column of his).
Brunt has a column up right now on the chaos in the Habs dressing room and how it connects to the media and larger cultural obsessions. Even for someone like me, who is fairly indifferent to the Habs, it’s a good read just for the pleasure of reading Brunt’s prose. Check it out.