Words by Rob Vanstone
The Saskatchewan Roughriders have made Canadian Football League history by hiring someone who nearly predates it.
The CFL was formed in 1958, only six years before Alan and Helen Vanstone’s non-prodigy of a son — not necessarily an improvement over their beloved birds, Dief and Baker — arrived on March 30, 1964.
A mere 21,512 days elapsed before I arrived at Riderville.com and immersed myself in the nascent role of Senior Journalist and Roughrider Historian.
Here, in adherence to time-honoured football tradition, is a comprehensive scouting report on a recent signing who I know too well:
Height: 5-foot-10½. (It used to be 5-11¾ but, as referenced earlier, I’m old. At this rate of shrinkage, I should disappear by the year 4423. So please hold tight.)
Weight: Yes.
Age: Ice.
Forty-yard dash time: 4.21 seconds. (My previously ponderous pace quickened upon discovering that the lunch room is 40 yards from my desk in the Roughriders’ business office.)
Football accomplishments: Captained Paperboyz to Old Fat Guy Touch Football League championships in 2010, 2012 and 2013 without once losing a coin flip or, for that matter, seeing a game. The actual players sent me home after the coin flip and occasionally texted me the result. At least I got to keep the trophy.)
With these credentials, how could anyone have resisted the overtures when I sent what turned out to be a life-altering e-mail to Roughriders President-CEO Craig Reynolds not even a month ago?
The same day Craig received my casual inquiry, we sat down for coffee, whereupon the serious negotiations began.
“Where,” I asked Craig, “is the lunch room?”
“East side,” I was told at the outset of the high-level discussions.
On Tuesday, I confirmed the veracity of Craig’s response while delivering my lunch to Mosaic Stadium via forklift.
As for the rest of that day — and for the entirety of this past week, for that matter — it has been a dream.
“How have your first few days been?” Brittany Boczulak, the Roughriders’ Talent Management and Business Operations Coordinator, inquired on Thursday morning after I somehow avoided locking my keys in the car.
“Well,” I replied, “I still feel like I am here to visit somebody. Then I realize that I am actually working here.”
Then we talked about our dogs. Everyone here, it seems, has a dog, a cat, or a dog and a cat. Once spring arrives, there will also be an oversized gopher on the premises.
In the interim, this old dog is learning new tricks.
After 13,412 days at the Regina Leader-Post, I am suddenly a rookie.
Most rookies do not arrive at Mosaic Stadium with osteoarthritis. Vince Young may have been an exception.
Grey/absent hair and ashen complexion excepted, I felt like the same wide-eyed newbie who first staggered into the Leader-Post’s newsroom on May 12, 1986, hoping to meet Bob Hughes and perhaps get an autograph.
Now, just a handful of days into Chapter 2, I have already been able to take stock of and marvel at the organizational culture — while courteously draining the Roughriders’ reservoir of free soft drinks in the magnetic lunch room and complimentary mints at the front desk.
The introductory in-house experience has been nothing short of overwhelming.
Even before I set foot in the office, people were overwhelmingly kind.
Being the intellectual giant that I am, I was unable to figure out the intricacies of the elevator as the precious minutes ticked down before Day #1 of Career #2.
There I stood, for a minute or two, wondering if I would ever ascend to the fourth level in order to begin my new adventure.
As I began to panic, the elevator doors opened and in walked Carol Hoeving, the Roughriders’ Ticket Control Officer.
Just like that, Carol pressed the right button — 4 — and there was liftoff.
My head was spinning for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. Dream Job 2.0 was unfolding in rather stunning fashion. As a bonus, the new gig had not yet entailed any actual, roll-up-your-sleeves work.
It was all orientation, introductions and impossibly warm welcomes.
I figured it was a first-day thing … or a “let’s humour this guy until someone can escort him out of the building” thing.
Wrong.
“It’s not just like this on the first day,” Tyler Daku, our Social Media Lead, after a meeting in the well-named Piffles Taylor Boardroom. “I’ve been here for a year and it is always like this. That’s just the way it is here.”
I had a passing acquaintance with Tyler before being formally introduced to him and, moreover, his extraordinary command of all matters online.
There is more of a history with Dan Clark, whose good name was first inputted by yours truly when he played for the Thom Trojans. He subsequently joined the Regina Thunder and, of course, the Roughriders.
The same work ethic Dan applied en route to becoming a CFL all-star player is evident at the office.
Dan sits to my left in a pod. I have done my best to be punctual — thanks again to Carol Hoeving for the lift — but it is seemingly impossible to arrive at the office earlier than Dan.
He approaches the role of Program Scheduler for the Saskatchewan Roughrider Foundation, with the same determination that has road-graded many a defensive lineman over the years. With so many community initiatives on the go, I cannot imagine how he manages his time.
Yet, he always has time for a cordial chat.
“How was your first day?”
“How was your second day?”
Et cetera.
That is Dan Clark for you. He is as advertised … and more.
The same can be said of everyone here at 1731 George Reed Way.
Of course, photos of George and Ronnie are everywhere.
On the way to and from the ever-popular lunch room, I am constantly stopped in my tracks by game-worn, autographed Ron & George jerseys.
Is this an office or a museum?
The same question occurred to me on Tuesday, when Director of Communications Arielle Zerr gave me The Big Tour.
It took an hour and a half to see everything and to meet everyone. That, I hasten to add, was just a cursory scouring of the premises.
Not once was there an abbreviated or obligatory “Hi, how are you?” Every introduction — I am still trying to remember all the names, including my own — turned into a conversation, in part because a very giddy me could not stop spluttering.
Even the sight of running back Tommy Reamon, pictured in 1977 during his abbreviated stint in green and white, prompted me to yak incessantly until someone gave me a needle.
Relievedly, the tongue stopped wagging when we entered the locker room.
It was hardly foreign territory, considering that many an interview has been conducted in the very same area of this state-of-the-art edifice, but the emptiness of the room actually filled my head with thoughts.
Every player has a story. The sight of the No. 7 jersey in the stall of Trevor Harris reminded me of my introductory writing assignments for Riderville.com — a column on the newly signed quarterback, followed by a two-part series in which his life story was documented over 3,000-plus words and a comparable number of mints, heisted from the main reception area.
Even then, I left out a few cool details.
Presumably, there will be sequels. Lots of sequels. And mints.
That is principally why I am here — to exhaustively tell the stories of the players and, as a complement, the people who have enabled the Regina Rugby Club (b. 1910) to evolve over time into everything and everyone I see before me.
As much as it is an honour to work for the Roughriders, I am ultimately employed by the owners.
The fans.
People like you.
This is your team. Your stadium. Your story, in so many ways.
My objective, my mandate, my promise is to make that connection tighter than ever.
I hope that we can walk these halls, take these tours and shake these hands together, for as long as you will kindly bless me with the most gracious gift of your time.
Yes, my blistering time in the 40-yard dash may make it difficult to keep up at first, but please derive comfort from my inevitable discomfort. Osteoarthritis, alas, is undefeated.
