This is what I don't understand: why do some guys get it all? Like Mattias Ohlund, for instance. Here is a nice fellow from Sweden, one of the best young defenceman in hockey, a multi-million-dollar salary, a body like Jean-Claude van Damme, a dishy new car, a gorgeous girlfriend. Most guys I know would be happy with any one of those, let alone them all.
But it's worse. Ohlund has blonde hair, blue eyes and the ruggedly handsome features that, well, women find irresistible.
Not that I'm one to hold a person's looks against them. All I ask is that they don't rub it in. But yesterday morning, when I opened my newspaper, Mattias Ohlund rubbed it in.
Did you happen to see it? In the front section of our newspaper?
"Tomorrow night, Vancouver Canucks' defenceman Mattias Ohlund will be slipping into something a little more comfortable after the game against the Leafs," the Harry Rosen ad said.
And, in small type at the bottom, it went on to describe in agonizing detail all the designer clothing Mattias is wearing in the photo. And which he got to take home with him after it was taken.
Which leaves us to wonder, if it's Harry Rosen today, what's tomorrow? The cover of GQ? Esquire? Why not Vanity Fair?.
Okay, I'll admit, I'm a little bitter. For the last few years, or however long Harry Rosen has been running his ads featuring men from everyday walks of life modeling his clothes, I have harboured a secret fantasy.
To be a Harry Rosen model.
Who's that laughing out there?
Listen, I figured modeling in one of the ads would get me that Hugo Boss jacket I'd never be able to afford. I even dreamed up ways of getting Harry to consider me. One plan was to clip out one of the ads and stick my column picture on top of the head of the person in the ad. I would attach a post-it note that read: "What do you think, Harry?" And then send it to Harry Rosen headquarters.
My little fantasy plan even included putting ad copy across the picture that said: 'What Gary Mason will be wearing tomorrow' - just like the real ads say.
But anyway, enough about my futile, useless, hack-filled dreams, back to Mr. Wonderful, the man who has it all, THE GUY POSING IN THE ADS I'M SUPPOSED TO BE IN!
Ever since Pavel Bure blew town the burning question has been: who will score the goals? And the second one has been: who will succeed the Russian Rocket and his flowing blonde locks and ruby-red lips as team poster boy?
Every NHL club, of course, has one. Mike Modano's it in Dallas. Tony Amonte in Chicago. Eric Lindros in Philadelphia. But since Bure left it was unclear who his successor would be here.
The other night, in the game against the Phoenix Coyotes, there were the first signs the public may have made its choice. Several signs in fact. Signs held by young women. Signs that read: 'Ohlund is a Swedish god.' 'Mattias Ohlund is sexy.' Honest. I'm not making this up. And every time Ohlund skated out on the ice, the young women holding the signs, okay, maybe they were more like young teenagers, would scream.
The Canucks held an optional practice Tuesday and Ohlund wasn't there. Probably had a photo shoot. I wasn't able to ask him about the Rosen ad or the signs in the crowd, so I went to some of his teammates.
"So, do you see Mattias as a Swedish god?" I asked Ohlund's roommate, Dave Scatchard.
"No, I don't see him as a Swedish god. He might look at himself as a Swedish god, and might tell people he's a Swedish god, but to me he's just one of the guys."
"What about this?" I ask, flashing a copy of the Rosen ad.
"Mattias has always told me he knows more about fashion than I do but we all know I dress a lot better than he does."
Before Ohlund's fellow countryman, Bert Robertsson, could grab a shower I showed him the ad and informed him about the signs in the crowd.
"Is he," I asked, "a Swedish god?"
"No, no, no. How do you define a Swedish god? Big, strong, handsome. So it's no, no, no there. Charisma? Nope. Is he smooth? Nope."
"Are you closer to a Swedish god than him?" he's asked.
"For sure, no question."
It was time to get a truly thoughtful comment on the matter, which, on a hockey team, means you head for a goaltender. I coaxed Garth Snow off the trainer's table, where he was getting a massage, to ask his views on Mattias Ohlund as sex symbol.
"What do you think?" I asked, sticking the Rosen ad under his nose.
"Personally," Snow said. "He's not my type."
Just a Side Note:
To answer the question,"Who thinks Bert Robertsson is a "Swedish God"?"...
We'll in my opinion, he's a bit lower in rank compared to Mattias. Too bad the Canucks traded him…Just when he was actually starting to get ice time and contributing to the organization…
Also, I posted this particular article on my MB and here's the response that I got from a Vancouver fan.
"I did find the article quite interesting. My friends and I went to the game on the 29th. I had a huge neon orange poster board for school and decided to bring it over to my friends so we could make a big ass sign, something that had a bold statement and would get attention. We went through things like "We love Mattias" or "Go Matty". We decided to make fools out of ourselves and put something like Mattias is a God. Instead we put MATTIAS OHLUND IS A SWEDISH GOD in bold letters with a close-up pic of his face and a Swedish flag. When I read the Mason article and it mentioned the sign and asked the players if Mattias was a Swedish god, I was really surprised!
P.S. We did not scream every time Mattias skated down the ice like the article said. The 40-something year old guys who downed a few too many beers were the ones squealing "Mattias, Mattias, they love you". God that was embarrassing."
