My smoke-free milestone

Ten years ago today, I smoked my last cigarette.

Scott Adamson’s humor column appears whenever he has a funny feeling. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @adamsons60

I realize you probably don’t care, but I’m going to write about it anyway because going an entire decade without sucking on a lung dart is a pretty big deal to me. Keep in mind, I was not a “casual” smoker or “social” smoker – I was addicted to the point of being obsessed. My entire day was built around filtered menthol cigarettes.

Smoking was my first official act of any given morning.

The alarm would go off, I’d cough profusely, reach for my glasses, then reach for my lighter, then reach for a cigarette, then light it and take a drag, then cough profusely again, then take another drag.

After I finished my first one I’d have another with my starter cup of coffee, then a third one with my second cup of Joe.

My fourth was smoked when I took the dog out, and what’s interesting here is that for years I didn’t even have a dog. Still, I took him out anyway because I needed to get some fresh air while I burned one.

I’d even smoke in the shower – I kid you not. I mean, how sad is that?

Basically when I shower I wash my hair, rinse, lather my body, rinse, then use a wash rag to give my bits and pieces the ol’ dust and shine. This is not a long process and I think most people could’ve made it through without a cancer stick.

Still, there was a period in my life when – after the hair wash and rinse – I’d peek my head out from behind the shower curtain, dry my hand, and fire up a smoke that I would furiously puff on before the hot water started to run out.

It sounds ridiculous, but it’s no less true.

And going to movies was a real chore. The whole time I was watching “Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers” I was hoping he’d just go ahead and kill everybody so I could leave the theater and light up.

Damn, that was a long 88 minutes.

By the time I reached the end of a day I’d gone through at least two packs of cigarettes and would’ve smoked more except doing so proved to be difficult while I slept.

When you build your world around gaspers the coughing gets worse and you develop yellow teeth and yellow fingers. But as glamorous as all that sounds, at some point (hopefully) you realize smoking is not a good decision.

I reached this point in June of 2010.

Mary had begged and pleaded with me to quit and I kept saying I’d try, but I wasn’t trying nearly hard enough. Despite the fact that I would get out of breath walking from the couch to the kitchen and wheezed like Muttley the cartoon dog, I kept smoking like I was getting paid for it.

Then – on June 10 – it came to a screeching halt.

While reading about the adverse effects of smoking I came upon a photo of dogs and monkeys being forced to inhale cigarette smoke during laboratory tests.

I had tried a nicotine patch before (it gave me vivid nightmares), nicotine gum (it was merely a shot to my cigarette chaser), and stop-smoking pills (a side effect was cranking up my depression level to 11), but the desire to smoke never truly ceased.

I even considered hypnosis, but was afraid I’d wind up like those sleeper agents from the movie “Telefon” who are activated by a code phrase and then start blowing up shit.

When I saw that photo of animals being abused, though, I decided to never put a cigarette in my mouth again.

Anyone who knows me knows that overall I prefer critters to humans (not you, though – you’re terrific), and seeing this kind of cruelty was a real “scared straight” moment for me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t support an industry that supported this.

I called Mary and said, “If I ever smoke another cigarette, hit me over the head with a 9-iron.”

Turns out, she never had to whack me, because I have yet to fall off the wagon – and I see no scenario where it might happen.

I find the smell of wafting cigarette smoke extremely unpleasant, and when it’s on people’s clothes it gives off the scent of a wet goat that stuck its butt in an ashtray.

To know that I once smelled like this is embarrassing.

Now, this is not intended to shame anyone; I tried to quit many times before I was finally shocked into going cold turkey.  Depending on who you are there are varying degrees of difficulty, and you have to make a commitment and find a quitting plan that works for you.

But 10 years later I don’t cough unless I’m sick, I don’t wheeze at all, I have real dogs to walk, and I can walk for miles because my lungs don’t hate me anymore.

If I can quit, anyone can do it.

And be honest – you don’t want to smell like a wet goat that stuck its butt in an ashtray, do you?

I miss the CFL

You know those cool people on Twitter who you feel like are your friends even though you’ve never actually met them?

Scott Adamson writes about alternative football leagues whenever he feels like it. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @adamsons60

In a way, that’s how I feel about the Canadian Football League.

I actually did “meet” the CFL back in 1995 when it had teams in the United States, but it’s been 25 years since we’ve been in the same room, so these days we really only correspond through social media.

Anyway, I consider the CFL my buddy and I care about its well-being. And under normal circumstances, we’d be together again and our Twitter relationship would be in full swing.

I’d have already gotten a taste of a new campaign with some preseason clashes, and the start of the regular season would be right around the corner with Edmonton hosting British Columbia on Thursday.

But the coronavirus pandemic has done away with normal circumstances, so there is no CFL preseason and there’s a real chance there will be no 2020 season, period. The league has already pushed back its start to September at the earliest, and best-case scenario it will feature a truncated schedule.

There had been some chatter about it partnering with The Spring League (a U.S.-based, extended stay scouting combine) and playing games in American hub cities. That, apparently, was mostly wishful thinking coming from south of the Canadian border, though.

“Barring some huge development, like a vaccine for COVID-19, it now seems clear we can rule out playing games this summer,” CFL Commissioner Randy Ambrosie said during a virtual town hall meeting on May 20. “There are several reasons, including the continuing restrictions on assemblies, travel and border crossings. Notably, several provinces and municipalities have already decided to prohibit until September 1 all sporting events featuring large gatherings.”

The Grey Cup, originally slated for Saskatchewan, has been shifted to the site of the competing team with the best record (if held at all).

The annual “Touchdown Atlantic” game in Nova Scotia has also been scrapped for 2020.

Of course virtually all sports organizations have been forced to call audibles. The pandemic has had a devastating economic impact on businesses large and small, and the business of athletic competition is hardly immune.

The NBA and NHL had their regular seasons abruptly halted, with pro roundball set to resume on July 31 and hockey aiming for an expanded tournament to complete its campaign later in the summer. Major League Baseball has yet to have an Opening Day and no agreement has been reached on what kind of scheduling format is possible.

The NFL, meanwhile, maintains a wait-and-see attitude with its regular season slated for an early September kickoff.

Yet while the “Big Four” will be able to weather the storm despite taking huge financial hits, the CFL is another story.

Compared to the NFL, its television deal is modest. A six-year contract with The Sports Network, signed in 2019, is worth around $37 million (in U.S. dollars) annually and shared among the nine Canadian teams. That sounds pretty good until you realize the NFL’s 32 franchises shared $8.78 billion in TV revenue in 2019 – about $275 million per club. Those figures are based on the annual report released by the Green Bay Packers, the only team that publicly releases its finances.

The CFL also counts on paying customers to help the bottom line (average attendance last season was 22,917 per game).

“We know there is a great deal of interest in whether we might play with or without fans, or with social distancing rules in place. We are examining all possibilities with both public safety and financial viability in mind. It’s just too soon to speculate on what a return to play in September might look like.”

One of those possibilities, of course, is no season at all.

“We are not announcing or promising a return this fall,” Ambrosie said. “We are just letting our fans know this remains one of the remaining possible scenarios for 2020. A canceled season is also possible. Again, it’s too soon to make a sure call at this point.”

I know next to nothing about business and a quick glance at my bank account reveals I know little about finances, but I know enough to be worried about the CFL.

While it has plenty of history and tradition, I have no idea if it has the infrastructure to survive a lost year.

The league has asked the Canadian federal government for emergency funding, with the CFL hoping for an immediate $30 million bailout and millions more if the 2020 season is washed out.

I’ve heard some people suggest Ambrosie and a few of the owners are crying wolf about the long-term fate of the league; they think it would get knocked down, but not knocked out. I have no idea if that’s true, but I’ve never heard anyone claim that the CFL was too big to fail.

So from a fan’s standpoint – and I’ve been a serious fan since the 1970s – I’m not just bummed about a possible canceled season but what happens going forward for one of my favorite sports organizations.

Chances are that five years down the road the NFL, MBA, NHL and MLB will be functioning basically just as it did before COVID-19.

I want to believe the Canadian Football League will do the same – but I have my doubts.

After all, we only really know each other through Twitter.