The Grey Cup spent a day at the Mississauga office of the Toronto Argonauts’ team chiropractors.Galit Rodan/The Globe and Mail
Unlike most celebrities, the Grey Cup is bigger than you’d think in person.
Sneaky heavy, too. Not difficult to pick up, but it becomes an anvil if you hold it too long.
‘Too long’ is generally the amount of time it takes for a stranger to line up the perfect selfie.
“Hold it a little higher,” says the kind passerby who’s insisted he take this shot on my phone.
Higher, right.
“And a bit to the left.”
Which left? My left or …?
“Ready?”
This is starting to hurt.
“A little higher.”
We’re part of a small lineup at the Mississauga clinic of Dr. Dwight Chapin. Or, as he is referred to in my household, two-time Grey Cup champion Dwight Chapin.
Chapin’s my chiropractor, and in his spare time he looks after the Toronto Argonauts as well.
The Argos won the Grey Cup in November. Everybody on the team gets their day with the trophy. Monday was Chapin’s day.
Like a lot of people in the CFL, there is no “off” in Chapin’s off-season. So he brought the Cup to work.
Actually, Argos head coach Ryan Dinwiddie brought it to Chapin’s work. There are no trophy handlers in the CFL. Whoever has the Cup on a given day is responsible for driving it over to the following day’s recipient in the morning. Dinwiddie rolled into the parking lot at 7:45 a.m. He was in his sweats, apparently looking like he’d enjoyed his night.
Now it’s sitting on a folding table in the entryway, across from the boot rack and the receptionists’ desk.
Sitting there for a bit and watching people come and go is a wonderful demonstration of how big-city blinders work. It’s right there. It’s huge. But most people don’t clock it. All the receptionists are wearing Argos jerseys. There’s a banner and framed photos. Nothing.
Kim Wiebe takes a selfie with the Grey Cup.Galit Rodan/The Globe and Mail
“While you wait, you can take a look at the Grey Cup if you wish,” someone says.
“Oh,” says one half-interested patient, who was already tucking himself into a seat. “Alright.”
He gets up, folds both hands behind his back and begins to read the names written on it. There are a lot of them. I’m not sure this is how it’s done, but it’s very in keeping with the theme – very polite, extremely Canadian.
Everyone has heard the stories about the punishments the Cup has been subjected to by its many holders. Through more than a century in existence, it has been dropped and broken, sat on and broken, head butted and broken. It’s also survived a catastrophic fire. The Grey Cup is the Rasputin of sports trophies – very difficult to kill.
“The last time I got it [after the 2017 Grey Cup] it had just been at a party with players,” Chapin says. “It was dented and the bowl on top was kind of hanging off.”
Not this time. The Cup looks great. Maybe it’s the current mood of austerity, or maybe it’s because people are just better at amateur silver-smithing, this year’s Cup journey has not resulted in injury. It’s been to a bakery in Etobicoke and a winery in Niagara. It’s been to schools, churches and police stations. It has been to a bunch of bars. A bunch of bars, apparently. However, it has yet to be forgotten at one.
“One particular coach ate pasta and meatballs out of it,” Argos PR tells us. That’s what passes for wild in Toronto in 2023.
If most people go out of their way not to notice this country’s second most famous trophy, a few have come specifically for a meet-and-greet.
Most of them ask to touch it.
That’s okay.
A few want to pick it up.
That’s okay, too.
“Can I drink from it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Kim Wiebe switched appointments so that she could visit with the Cup for what looks like a pretty sophisticated selfie session. Globe photographer Galit Rodan helps her art-direct the shoot.
“Maybe higher?” Rodan says. “From above.”
“Oh, that is better,” Wiebe says.
Where’s this photo going?
“I’ll probably post it on my Facebook,” Wiebe says.
Will the people you know be jealous?
“No. My husband’s coming in later today.”
Brittney Enright-Blount has already a go-round with the Cup. She was an athletic therapist on the Argos team that won in 2017. Now she’s the head therapist for York University’s football team. She has that look pros get when they are in the vicinity of trophies they have not won – wistful.
“It’s just nice to see it again,” Enright-Blount says. Notably, she does not touch it.
The to and fro of the office continues. People coming in bent over and leaving looking more up and down. After an hour, a virtuous circle of selfiedom has been created – everybody comes in as someone is taking a picture, and then stops for one themselves as they leave, and so on.
Tonight, Dr. Chapin will take the Grey Cup home for a party with friends and family. At a guess, nothing will be hanging off it by morning.
Tomorrow, he’ll drop it off for someone else, who’ll take it to their job, or a restaurant, or mom’s house, and a great, long chain of sports sentimentality will be extended to a few more Canadians.
Cathal Kelly