The Winnipeg Jets: Symbols of Vanished Reason and Morality

(source: cbc.ca)

When the Winnipeg Jets returned in the fall of 2011, I did not know whether I living was in Winnipeg or in Communist Russia.  That big, dominating Jets logo was as omnipresent as the hammer and sickle displayed at any pro-Communist rally.

I literally could not walk a distance of five metres without seeing that logo.  If I did not see it plastered onto the bumper of a car, I could certainly see it on a cap or shirt.  I saw it stitched to men and women, elderly and newborns, whites and blacks and Filipinos.  I saw Winnipeg Jets flags hanging down from trees and apartment balconies, towers of glass, and the ledges of homes -- inescapable colours and patterns.  I was not draped in those colours, but my mind certainly was.

The logo is one of identity, and identity means power.  Identity lets people define surrounding areas.  To many living in Winnipeg, the Winnipeg Jets logo represents the city itself.

Many stand in awe at the sight of professional athletes.  But it is not the athletes that wow us.  Instead, we wow ourselves.  When the Jets lose, many in Winnipeg get the collective sense that they lose.

I cannot simply say that mass celebration of victory is an ethos of living vicariously through professional sport.  Rather, mass celebration represents a collective self-affirmation.  There is a sense of defeatism among many who live in Winnipeg, and anytime a professional sports team wins a game, many get the sense that not all is lost. 

And by 'defeatism', I mean the collective sense that morality and justice are things of the past.  Having read the news over the past few years, I cannot blame those who feel this way.  Who can honestly be proud to live in a city where a man tortures and rapes his daughters over a span of seven years? 

Who can honestly feel that the forces of good prevail over the forces of evil when Richard Dow gets a mere 16-month sentence and credit for time served?

Who can conclude that reason is winning over sheer absurdity when Darrell Ackman, a man facing serious child pornography charges, gets enough signatures to run as a candidate in the Fort Whyte by-election?

When morals are gone, the symbol prevails.  In a way, the collective symbol dies when many feel that morals are regained.  The symbol of the New York Yankees is a good example.  In the 1970s, as crime, looting, prostitution, and bankruptcy ravaged 'Fear City', New Yorkers everywhere cheered for the Yankees.  The Yankees were the only thing New Yorkers could root for and talk about.  When crime went down, people were talking about things other than the Yankees. 

It is the symbol that obscures the darkness of identity.  When darkness is obscured, all will believe the myth of divine exceptionalism.  For those who believe the myth, I would suggest reading this great column by Bartley Kives. 

The following passage by Kives captures my feelings appropriately:

 

                               I've long argued the civic despair in the mid-1990s was not just about the 
                               loss of the Jets, but a vestigial sense of entitlement displayed by a city that
                               never quite got used to fact it wasn't important any more.  Many times then,
                               I've argued Winnipeg must get over itself and finally grow comfortable
                               within medium-sized, ordinary-city skin.

                               And now that the Jets are back, I wonder whether this will ever happen.  I
                               wonder whether the jingoism of the "True North!" chant has subsumed our
                               collective capacity for self-reflection. (source: winnipegfreepress.com)


The collective wearing of a brand requires no mental effort.  It is all about emotion, not logic.  In a city like this, one can get sick from thinking because the problems can be complicated.  Ultimately, there is a desire to wear something powerful in the wake of collective failure to right wrongs.  We decry our justice system yet elect politicians who appoint the same old group of judges.  We decry our civic infrastructure yet vote for the same people who vow to do nothing about it. 

The problems, of course, become more complicated, more convoluted.  But the mere presence of the Winnipeg Jets allows everyone to forget absurdity a little more easily.  The logo of the Jets is the Cross, and the MTS Centre is the Holy Temple.  Everyone will wear a Jets logo and go to a hockey game to cleanse their interior remorse.  Nothing is cleansed, but the fabrication is good enough for just a little satisfaction.