Argos-Suck.com

CANADIAN FOOTBALL LEAGUE: FAN BONDING
You just can’t keep a good chant down
Nothing brings together the beautiful freaks who live on Canada’s
sporting fringe quite like their unlove for everything Toronto

DAVE BIDINI

Special to The Globe and Mail

November 24, 2007

Let’s face it. There’s a lot that sucks about Toronto. Sunglassed and
besuited jerks in stupid cars who give you the finger. Yuppies in
deathly furs who elbow past you, knocking over small children while
cradling designer frozen dinners in the supermarket. The Leafs. The
Raptors, too. I haven’t seen a single score this year, but I’m pretty
sure the Toronto Rock suck. They have to. They come from Toronto.

But nothing sucks worse than the Toronto Argonauts.

Naturally, a zealous group of Hamiltonians are the leading promoters
of this hard and cold reality. These steel-suckers are so committed to
Argo suckdom that their collective vocation – argos-suck.com – was the
impetus behind an unsanctioned opening-night Grey Cup party at the
Horseshoe Tavern, where two bands who didn’t suck performed for zany
CFL fans united in their unlove for everything Toronto.

“When we found out a few years ago that the domain ‘argos-suck’ hadn’t
been taken, we couldn’t believe it,” effuses co-founder Steve Bunn,
while ladling great spoonfuls of the most foul-tasting Vietnamese
noodles in a hideously lively and well-lit restaurant on Spadina
Avenue. “We all pitched in $20 and started the website, and now it’s
become a vector for everyone’s dislike of Toronto, if in a totally
playful and healthy way.”

Born out of the deep historic rivalry between cities, the chant “Argos
suck!” is to Hamilton sporting culture what the Sign Man was to Philly
Spectrum hockey, Aunt Hildy was to Dodgers baseball and “Potvin
sucks!” is to Ranger hockey fans. Tabbies fans chant “Argos suck!” no
matter the opposition. “It’s something that Ti-Cats fans say pretty
much every day of the season … ” said one large fellow from Dundas,
Ont. “If the cash machine won’t give you cash – ‘Argos suck!’ If you
run out of gas – ‘Argos suck!’ If your girlfriend dumps you – ‘Argos
suck!’ It’s the sort of sentiment that’s always easy to apply.”

In recent years, the “Argos suck!” phenomenon has come under attack,
not by Toronto football fans, mind you (who, judging from many of the
double-bluers I met at the ‘Shoe, find the chant strangely endearing),
but by the Tiger Cats themselves.

A few years ago, new owner Bob Young tried to banish the phrase,
worried that it was giving the impression to potential ticket holders
that Ivor Wynne Stadium (the Tabbies’ park) was nothing but a cauldron
of large hairy swearing men for whom “sucks” was merely a springboard
to more unruly behaviour. He was right about the large hairy football
fans, but even the argos-suck.com mavens proved to be intelligent,
funny fans of the CFL for whom “Argos suck!” is a catch-all expression
of distaste, ending crowd profanity before it begins.

“Bob had all of these ideas about how to change the Cats,” says a
fellow named Will, one of the website’s driving forces. “In a lot of
ways, he saved the franchise and had great ideas, but his attempt to
ban the chant only hardened our resolve, and made the chant more
popular. He held a $1,000 contest for fans to come up with a new
chant, but ‘Argos suck!’ evolved naturally and you can’t script
something like that.”

One Argonaut fan at the Horseshoe who wanted his identity concealed
remembers a time before “Argos suck!” when wading into Hamilton for
the Labour Day Classic and other games was to flirt with preciousness
of life.

“Once, my drunk friend fell over and was knocked into an enormous
Ti-Cat fan at Ivor Wynne who ended up with a spilled beer. Needless to
say, he wasn’t very happy.

“Even though we tried apologizing to him and offered to replace his
beer, he pretty much made it clear that he wanted to fight. He was
eventually tossed by security, but he waited for us after the game,
where he jumped my friend, pinned him down and bit off part of his
ear.

“We scrambled trying to help him, but as we did, this old Hamilton
woman who’d been watching the fight came out with a cold glass of
water, picked up the piece of cartilage that had been chewed off, and
put it in the glass. The doctors tried to stitch it back on and
couldn’t, but the whole event – and the divot out of my friend’s ear -
kind of represents what the Argo-Ti-Cat relationship has become. We
hate each other, but we also know that, as CFL fans, we’re in it
together.”

One of the great things about the CFL, the Grey Cup and Grey Cup week
is that it makes room for the beautiful freaks who live, in unity, on
Canada’s cultural and sporting fringe.

As the Horseshoe evening played out, the crowd became coloured with
Roughie fans wearing carved watermelon rinds on their heads; Lions’
supporters in bloody orange and black with plush toys strapped to
staffs; a single Ottawa Rough Rider fan; staunch Argo men and women
wearing vintage blue; Bombers agitators in gold with beads slung
around their necks; and an Eskimo fan who’d recently lost his foot in
an accident, but who’d slogged through the evening’s freezing rain to
reunite with the football-sick

annuals.

I was told by a Hamilton north-ender at the end of the night: “Where
else could you get so many drunk men and women in one place and not
have any fights?”

On the heel of his words, one group of fans standing near the end of
the bar clenched their fists, bared their teeth, tipped back their
heads and bellowed the classic Toronto lament, “Argooooooosss!” while
their Hamilton dance partners lurched toward them and shouted: “Suck!”