I'm out of my mind. I'm also a left-wing pinko, bleeding heart.

I might even be a puke. Just like Stu Grimson, Chris Nolan and Jim Thomson are "pukes." I know this to be true because Donald S. Cherry says so.

"Anybody who says they don't like fighting in the NHL have to be out of their minds" is what Donald S. had to say during one of his many rants on Coachless Corner, otherwise known as his Bully Pulpit on Hockey Night in Canada. 

Well, I don't like fighting in hockey, so I guess I'm out of my mind. And, because I'm not shy about expressing my distaste for fisticuffs in hockey, that makes me part of the the "left-wing pinko, bleeding heart media." 

I remain uncertain if I qualify as a puke, but I believe I do.

So, for those of you keeping score at home, I am a "left-wing pinko, bleeding heart puke who is out of her mind."

Geez, tell me what you really think, Grapes.

I suppose I should consider a lawsuit, but the old gasbag has nothing to fear from me. Although I am unemployed and live in poverty, I won't be taking legal action against him in an attempt to have the CBC pull the plug on his weekly rant.

Instead, I'll tell Donald S. Cherry what he is. A hypocrite, that's what.

He puts on his Muppet outfit and sits in his Bully Pulpit every Saturday night, with loyal lapdog Ron MacLean at hand, and he drones on endlessly about rock 'em, sock 'em hockey (except on those occasions when he's promoting war, insulting French-Canadians or questioning the manhood of those who wear face shields).

Sometimes he delivers his sermon in English. Other times, an unreasonable facsimile of English.

He also provides video evidence to prop up his stance du jour (just in case we can't understand what language he's speaking), so we get to see all sorts of bare-knuckle mayhem and fearsome body belts that leave men mangled and on their way to the hospital.

Among his favorites was Scott Stevens, who was a man's man hockey player because he didn't wear a visor, didn't speak French, wasn't Swedish and sent people to the hospital. Every time Donald S. shows us a clip of a Stevens open-ice hit, which are legendary and ruined careers (see: Lindros, Eric; Kariya, Paul), he tells us "that's how hockey is supposed to be played."

Except when it's his ox being gored.

Cherry, you see, was coach of the Canadian entry at the 1981 World Hockey Championships held in Gothenburg, Sweden. And, as it happened, 41 seconds into Team Canada's second game, an 8-1 victory over the Netherlands, an unknown defenceman named Rick Van Gogh took aim at Guy Lafleur and hit him so hard that The Flower's relatives probably felt the after-shocks in Quebec. Lafleur suffered a laceration on the nose (two stitches) and went to the hospital to have his head examined.

The point is, this was a vicious, open-ice hit. I saw it. I was there. It was a Scott Stevens-calibre hit, the very kind of hit that Cherry does not want removed from the game.

Team Canada general manager John Ferguson, no shrinking violet, described Van Gogh's wallop on Lafleur as "The best hit I've seen in 15 years."

And what did Cherry have to say?

The great advocate of rock 'em, sock 'em shinny was livid and launched into full, red-faced rant, calling it the cheapest of all cheap shots.

"Here we have a Junior B player who tried for instant fame by running up Lafleur, so he can say he put a superstar in the hospital," he shrieked in a diatribe that, in looking back, was a precursor to his role on Coachless Corner.

"The only reason he did it, and I don't care what anybody says, was to get his name in the paper back home. It's his one claim to fame. The coach had the audacity to tell me (Van Gogh) didn't know who Guy Lafleur was, if you can believe that—a kid from Toronto not knowing Guy Lafleur."

So, you see, Donald S. Cherry is only a proponent of rock 'em, sock 'em hockey if it isn't his guy getting gored.

He can call me a mindless pinko, bleeding heart if he likes, but I know he's a hypocrite. Rick Van Gogh is the proof.