Quite often my dreams are very real, but with a twist. Sometimes they mirror real life. Once I had the same dream 44 times in a night, but that was while I was in Peru and in the throes of altitude sickness.

There is this one dream that I have where the University of Guelph informs me I am two credits short of my degree. This is followed by a ridiculous goose chase where I hunt all over campus for some information about the two courses. The only certainty is that the final exams for each are to be written within days and I don’t know the course code, the prof, or the textbook.

Yes, that is odd. My confession to all of you is that I have had this dream for years and really, would it matter one bit that the 10” x 14” piece of paper in the corner in my office suddenly vanished?

Every year a few weeks before the Forum, I have a similar dream. Only this one has a couple of twists.

In one, I sleep through the first day of the Forum. Given my social habits, this one probably doesn’t seem that far fetched. But what is odd is that nobody knows what room I am in to come wake me up. In fact my room, in the dream, feels somewhat like a submerged marine chamber. I feel like I am floating around it weightlessly, while every word I mutter has a decidedly David Hasselhoff-like quality to it. To understand the effect, try uttering these words form the bottom of your intestines while you keep your lips in a jellyfish like formation: “Get. Out. Of. The. Water.” Say it again – “Get. Out. Of. The. Water.”

As my nostrils fill with brine and the countdown to the Forum begins, my staff huddle and determine their game plan. Should they announce that aliens captured Mark? Should they pretend this was all planned and I am making a royal appearance at some mysterious moment? Perhaps rising from beneath the stage like a 70s electro pop star?

Or should they send out a search party… preferably starting with all the Starbucks that are ten-minute walk form the hotel? Or better yet, the last three bars where I was seen doing trays of Jägerbombs?

It wouldn’t be long before Justin from my team would brush off his Leafs gear and take center stage. He would probably introduce a panel of Trojan team members who would issue a courteous apology and then move onto the meat of the conference.

Speaker after speaker; like Andrew Shibata from RBC and Shari Willerton from the Shaw Festival or Chuck Philips from Cocoon Branding; could weave me into their speech, “So did you hear the one about the fat bald guy who missed his most important event of the year?”

Arrogantly I would be hoping that this would happen in every speech that day. Why else would Chris Armstrong, Rick Burton, and Colin Campbell talk about the value of endorsers in sponsorships if they couldn’t make some crack about, “make sure he shows up for the photo shoot!”

Or Dave Thomas, who is going to expertly talk about social media, should clearly tweet about the missing conference chairperson.

And if Adam Garone is going to enthrall and inspire you with his tale on how he created Movember, then surely he must reflect on how much the campaign will miss my Ted Lange impersonation this fall.

But this probably won’t happen. The Forum will role along without me, while I drown in my own ego. Trapped in some Neverland hoping that J.M. Barrie will at least write me into the sequel.

Of course, the alternative to all this self-pity while the rest of you enjoy the Forum, is to tell you about the other panic dream I have. In that one, I take the stage to open the conference having forgotten something very important. My pants… and my gitch!

While it wouldn’t take long for the Sûreté du Québec to take me away on trumped up charges (if you get my drift), I am comforted by the knowledge that I would probably get off (no pun attempted here folks), for lack of evidence.

Somehow, we focus solely on the imagined glamour of proclaiming that the next round is on the house, or telling your friends you’ll hold a preferred table for them, or lining your walls with photos of you and celebrity diners.

It’s easy to forget about the fickleness of consumers, the challenges of getting liquor permits, the fragile support of bankers, the surprise visits by food critics and the unknown impact of weather. Let alone dealing with prima donna chefs, frustrated actresses-cum-waitresses and the dearth of people willing to wash dishes.

But still that dream persists. I think of it often when I pass an empty storefront that I think would make for a great pub. I would call it “Herschels,” as in Walker, my nickname. Or when I see a restaurant close for lack of service, I imagine investing in an up-and-coming maître d’ and unleashing his caring ways on my neighbours. Many a time when I taste a unique creation, my mind wanders to what spin I may put on it. Like a peanut butter and tomato sandwich. Seriously, try it. Sounds gross, but few things blend as well as a sweet red tamale and some salty Kraft PB.

So it was with more than a small tweak of envy last weekend that I realized the hottest new diner in my ‘hood, Uncle Betty’s (will explain the name later!), is the brainchild of Toronto advertising maven Robert Lewocz and his wife Samara Melanson.

If you don’t know Robert, he’s a former partner in Aldo Cundari’s hot marketing shop and is now guiding the growth of Cheil, the former Samsung in-house agency, to new heights.

Robert and Samara got their inspiration from a simple, yet personal, need. They were tired of the lack of a great ice cream shop near their North Toronto home. Frustrated by the necessity of trucking blocks away to treat their kids… a solution in the form of an epiphany emerged to open their own shop.

But they didn’t stop there. They quickly realized that floating a full restaurant solely on dairy delights wasn’t going to be viable. So they sprung from cups and cones to hot dogs and grilled cheese.

Inspired by Robert’s mother-in-law – a single mother named Elizabeth, who was such a rock in her family at performing dual parent roles that over time, her kids, nieces and nephews nicknamed her “Uncle Betty” – a diner was born.

Uncle Betty’s is not your usual diner. It features a doughnut machine. All-beef hot dogs. A meatloaf to die for. Sunday brunch. All-day breakfast. And a licence to serve beer.

As well, it has an ownership duo who are living the dream. Robert isn’t about to leave advertising, but he was bussing tables, motivating the kitchen staff and doing the night deposits when I saw him on opening weekend. I couldn’t imagine keeping that pace up while also servicing clients.

There weren’t any celebrities when I was there. Although I heard that Johann Koss was there minutes before we arrived. Too bad we missed him; I could have gotten some advice for how to help build the brand of our new client at Speed Skating Canada.

But I don’t think Robert opened the place for the celebs or to buy a round for the crowd. Though I do think he opened it to hold a table for friends.

More precisely, those friends are his kids.

So proclaimed Scott McCune, vice president of global partnerships and experiential marketing for The Coca-Cola Company at the SportAccord Convention in London recently.

Hearing those words from the leading TOP (The Olympic Partner) sponsor may send shivers down the throats of sponsorship-thirsty properties, but McCune wasn’t suggesting for a second that Big Red was getting out of the sports or entertainment marketing games. In fact, quite the opposite.

Within minutes of announcing the bank teller window was closed, McCune made it clear to the audience that they have plenty of money for great ideas. However, how that money is going to be spent is changing dramatically.

If you think of Coke as a sponsor, you think ubiquity. Their products are consumed by 1/4 of the world’s population and they do business in more countries than the U.N. Sponsorship helped fuel that global expansion. For the 1928 Games in Amsterdam, Coke shipped over 1,000 cases on a ship for the U.S. team members. They also set up refreshment shacks, which witnessed the first sale of Coca-Cola on foreign soil.

By 1934, Coke signed Johnny Weissmuller as their first Olympic spokesperson. “Tarzan,” as Weissmuller became known in his post-Olympic acting career, was a swimming gold medalist, and the rest is history.

Over time, as Coke became more and more involved with sponsorship, McCune characterized their approach quite bluntly: “If it MOVED, we would sponsor it, and if it STOOD STILL, we would paint it red!” At a minimum, this is a company that understands itself.

Fast forward to 2011 and Coca-Cola has a very clear picture of what they want.

YOUTH. CREATIVITY. FLAIR.

Yes, McCune talked to more strategic principles such as shared vision, innovation and common values. But he was quite clear: they are open to big ideas.

As they move into the music business, they found amazing synergies with their 2010 World Cup sponsorship and integration of the anthem “Wavin’ Flag” by K’Naan. Recently they conducted the world’s first live, consumer-driven song creation featuring Maroon 5 in a studio in London. The band took input from consumers around the world for a crowdsourced song they created on the fly in 24 hours. The outcome, “Is Anybody Out There,” is now available on the Coca-Cola website.

Big ideas indeed. Not necessarily fueled by big rights fees. As McCune made clear, they have the most powerful marketing machinery in the world. They have the resources to make stuff happen. What they need is a steady of diet of better and better ideas.

Coke has also recognized the incredible power of doing good with their marketing dollars. He showed a video of their 2010 torch participant selection process, which was largely driven by Sogo Active (full disclosure: this was in partnership with our clients at ParticipACTION and we were the agency behind it). Sogo Active rewarded 1,500 youth who became more physically active with a chance to carry the torch.

McCune noted that they now have a global mandate to get MORE YOUTH INVOLVED IN SPORTS. Wow. Read that over carefully.

It has become crystal clear that social marketing can generate profits for corporations. The cliché providers will tell you it has to be genuine. Oh thanks, why don’t you tell me to breathe while you are at it?

What I will tell you is this. If it “feels good” to you as a human being, it will feel good to a consumer. And if it feels good to a consumer, it is going to generate sales for you.

The Big Red Bank is closed.

But the Big Red Social Marketer, Music Label, Sports Advocate, Idea Kitchen, Promotional Innovator, Environmental Leader is ready and waiting 24/7.

Is your brand?

Boarding the plane at Chicago Midway, I’m definitely sleep deprived from attending the 2011 IEG Sponsorship Conference. While one could point the finger squarely at MH3 for my condition, I’m going to blame you instead.

You see, I had a simple goal in attending this year’s conference. Having been to something ridiculous like 15 or 16 of them, I was starting to feel like a bit of a lifer. This wasn’t a recent development. It had been creeping up on me for years. It would result in a little game I would play with myself on an annual basis. Seems every year I would tell myself that I didn’t need to attend and every year I would be fearful of “missing something,” like not going to every party on a high school weekend. So register I would. Then wish I hadn’t.

Candidly, I became a lazy conference goer. That’s an easy path to being disgruntled.

For this year’s conference I took some early clues from my Canadian colleagues. E-mails began to surface weeks ago about a Canada Night dinner from Leigh at Ivanhoe. Susan from the SMCC suggested a cocktail reception. Before long the events were merged, the location reserved and the invitations flowing.

As momentum picked up for the dinner, I began to realize how many of us Canadians would be invading American sponsorship turf. Even better, a ton of names began to surface of people I didn’t know. I was flabbergasted. Someone in sponsorship in Canada I didn’t know. Egads, I’m getting stale.

So, highly motivated, I departed to Chicago last Sunday dead set on expanding my network. Squarely intent on understanding the pulse of the Canadian marketplace. Fiercely determined to know what I didn’t know.

You know what? There was a lot I didn’t know. And a lot of people.

But of course there were a few I knew well. Like Stephane from Just for Laughs, who didn’t really laugh when I introduced him as the least funny person who worked at JFL. Sorry dude! Of course he did try to educate me on the 11 types of humour that apparently exist. I say apparently because he only got to six.

Then there was Stephen from BMW Canada. He led a roundtable on doing more with less that made it clear this is a revenue-focused sponsor with his examples of how he leverages global assets, internal departments and long-term planning to maximize his spend.

I also know Rico from the NCC. Real name Richard. He’s one of the key money men behind Winterlude and Canada Day in Ottawa. I didn’t know he wasn’t my brother from a different mother. All these years he’s had me convinced!

I also know Pat and Christie from the Stampede. But I didn’t know that the best event in Canada had just signed a JV with Cowboys to operate their casino. Yes folks, after a two-year absence, the big tent, big beers and big… you-know-what’s will be back in Calgary in time for the Stampede. If you’ve never been to this bar, five minutes inside Cowboys will make you understand why the locals proclaim, “It’s not cheating… It’s Stampeding!”

Speaking of the Stampede, Sue from BMO was also in Chicago. BMO has been the Stampede’s bank since 1912. That’s not a typo. That’s one heck of a long sponsorship renewal!

But on to some new people. Let’s start with Sophie and Catherine from Tennis Canada. The first thing they told me was that their colleagues had warned them that I was a big partier! Ouchy!

Speaking of Tennis Canada, check out Sarah from Esteemed Events’ new branding. She runs the TC sponsor summits.

Also from Montréal was Paul from Festival Divers/Cité. This annual event is, in his words, not run by gay people, nor does it feature only gay performers. But in its 26th year, it’s a world-class event created to celebrate the LBGT community.

Kevin from Parc Jean-Drapeau was in attendance and his property will be the site of the F1 race that is our hostevent for CSF 2011. Kevin’s attended CSF a few times, so make sure you meet him in June.

One of the funnest duos I met were Shaun from the Princess Margaret Hospital and Nick from his agency SDI. They, along with SDI team member Leah, are managing the cool new Road Hockey to Conquer Cancer event. (Full disclosure: we finished second in the pitch. Grr!) The boys and I had a few chuckles, about which I have promised them to disclose no clues… you will need to contact them directly and sign a waiver for details!

Met some American who didn’t believe we won the War of 1812, because the White House doesn’t fly a Canadian flag. Oh and they also said the Civil War wasn’t about slavery. To my face. Have you seen a picture of me?

Shari from the Shaw Festival was in attendance and by all accounts they seem to be cooking with gas. A recent deal included a big increase in support from a major bank. Congrats! I will let you issue the announcement Shari… but let us know so we can share it with our CSF newsletter readers.

Had to share a few fear of heights stories with Pat and Liz from the CN Tower. They have only worked at the tower for a combined 42 years, so I’m not sure how unique my tales really were.

Stumbled upon Ian from OOMPH! Events. In a bar called Howling at the Moon. Hence the stumbling. If you like duelling pianos, this is your place. Ian is speaking at CSF this year. I didn’t intend to meet him for the first time when I was gunned. Hope he still wants to speak… he is going to do an ROI Session on B2B properties.

I departed the Moon with Paolo from the NBA. Good call pulling the chute mate! He and Leah are hopeful their league doesn’t follow the lead of the NFL this summer into labour strife.

Good to see Jason from NFL Canada… no I mean Insight Sports… sorry I mean Capital C. By the time you finish this blog, he’ll have a new job.

Met Betty from North Vancouver and Lori from 3 Guineas in Toronto. If you need some help in the film world, these two are experts!

Brett from Canada Place was there with her new colleague Matti. Took me until the cab ride to remember Matti had been a client at Astral years ago!

Met Daryl from U of T. He was supposed to come to our dinner, but was under the weather. Perhaps it was from the germs on his shower curtain at this alleged hotel we stayed in called the Sheraton. Someone hoist the Motel 6 sign back up… the wind knocked it off the building.

Speaking of buildings, ever wonder if anyone works in that crazy big Foresters building near the DVP? Well I met a real live one. She knows my buddy George from Ontario Lung. Problem is I forgot her name. I’m sorry!

Lalitha and Pam from Elections Ontario shared with me their plans for testing a school-based program with kids in Grade 5 and Grade 10, to teach them about the importance of our democratic society and electoral system. Soon they will be looking for channel partners for this vital outreach.

Rashmi from Yorkdale had fond memories of working with my team on our Philips Sonicare toothbrush program last year. That made me relieved! (-:

Said hello to Todd from the ROM. They are looking for a new CEO if you want to be his boss.

Met Steve from Telus. He was one crazy Canuck. (If this joke is too subtle, humour type #4, Google “Podborski”.)

Speaking of the NFL, Dan and George were hunkering down for business unusual because of the lockout. Hang in there gents.

One of Scotiabank’s new sponsorship whizzes, Melanie, was there along with her agency S&E Sponsorship and account lead Matt. I once tried to hire Melanie. She said no. Doesn’t she know I hold grudges? (-:

There was a rumour Don and Dwayne from IMI were at IEG… but I didn’t see them in any sessions. A closer check of the lobby bar security videotapes, however, does validate their presence in the state of Illinois. That goes for you too, Jennifer from DIM!

Speaking of ghosts, did anyone see Alison from Rethink Breast Cancer? Oh I’m just kidding. I really should apologize for missing her workshop. Not only is she a great presenter, but the relationship she has created with Telus is UNBELIEVABLE, given the size of her organization. Beautiful!

Met Cathy and Elvira from Devan. They are good friends with Colin (ex-employee) and Megan from Toronto General & Western. Hey Megan, were you really the agent for Sloan from Entourage? Too cool. Shane from Rogers wants to know if you get him a walk-on role!

Bumped into Jim from Kraft. Leaked to him that the winner from Hockeyville last year is going to do a workshop at CSF 2011 on how to get entrants in voting structured programs engaged.

Also met Kiran from UCLA. He’s a former volleyball coach at North Carolina and Kansas. Which is cool ‘cause he was born in Toronto and raised in Calgary. Sports took him south. Now he does marketing for UCLA Recreation and is opening opportunities up for companies to connect with his campus community of 70,000 students, faculty and staff.

I am going to finish this entry by awarding the DELEGATE OF THE YEAR AWARD to “Little Jules,” the man who puts the jewel in Diamond Integrated Marketing. My boy Dave. To combat the HORRIBLE service and attitude of the Sheraton Chicago, Double D concocted a brilliant plan to defeat their ridiculous midnight last call. He ordered a two-four. How Canadian! A freaking “two-four” of Stella. (Full disclosure: I received an awesome Stella pouring kit at my office two weeks ago. It was the most beautiful promo piece I have ever seen!)

So back to Dave. After he got confirmation on the two-four, he puts his BlackBerry to work and ordered in six large pizzas from one of Chicago’s finest pie makers. Let me tell you one thing. You make a lot of friends when you control a two-four and 72 slices of pizza in a hotel bar at 1 a.m.

Brilliant work Diamond.

You have my respect. Harrison.

(Inside joke, ask Dave about it)

This week the circle has almost become fully linked. As part of our ongoing staff training program, we’ve decided to hire some consultants to teach an introductory IMC (Integrated Marketing Communications) course to our most junior staff. We’ve really pumped our training the past few years and have found that besides conference attendance, we’ve invested in an intensive combination of in-house courses, tutorials, executive coaches and ICA programs.

One gap we saw was in marketing fundamentals. It was really a simple conclusion. We have a very smart staff base. The typical profile is a Queens or Laurentian grad who then added a post-grad PR or sports marketing program to their degree. Or, in the case of the SPAD kids, a kick-ass internship at a place like IMG. However, as our agency becomes less about events and more about campaigns, the need to hone our marketing knowledge and really understand the language of our clients has become critical.

The answer? To custom develop an IMC course with some consultants to be taught to our up-and-comers. Here is where the Mark Harrison flashback comes in… The consultants we hired were my old marketing prof from the University of Guelph and his son. (Here comes that age thing again.)

We hired him over some of the other bidders for the simple reason that Professor (Tom) Funk was one of three profs I had in my university and grad school days that left me with lasting lessons.

Tom Funk

Professor Funk and his wife Jane were both profs of mine at the U of Goo, where he taught for over three decades. His impact on me came in two distinct channels, although if you looked at my grades in his class you may not know it. What struck me about him as a prof, and I had him for two, maybe three semester courses, was his passion. I had a lot of smart professors in university. One might argue that all professors are smart… but don’t confuse the ability to read and regurgitate with smarts. But I felt that more than half of the time I was being guided by smart folks.

What separated Professor Funk from the others was a quality near and dear to me. Passion. I can’t remember one lecture that didn’t feel like he was so consumed by the material it was bursting to get out of him. He led by example and expected his class to be equally enthralled with what we were learning. Given that many students were not interested in the material, his ability to create that environment was impressive.

The other thing about Funk I loved was his clarity. He created a soft copy Marketing Management manual that I candidly used for many, many years in my work life. It was orange and cerlox bound, decorated with my in-class notes… and I am sure many a staffer thought I was a geek… but it was one useful guide to marketing!

The other prof at Guelph who really left a lasting impression was Dr. Richard Phidd, my thesis advisor. Phidd was just as happy to conduct class in the local pub as he was in an auditorium, but don’t think of him as the stereotypical prof from Animal House. (Especially not the Donald Sutherland character!) He was a deep thinker, constantly consumed by his craft and always egging me on that what I was doing wasn’t good enough. But in a way that kept me motivated, hungry and productive.

Richard Phidd

Phidd’s contribution to my life was teaching me the ability to problem-solve. For he was a systems theory expert and he got me captivated by policy, systems and the machine. Because he also allowed me to integrate sport into my thesis (I wrote about how the federal government used sport in the 1970s as a policy instrument), my fascination was complete. As a young adult, I went from reading the many books he coauthored with Bruce Doern to the likes of Peter Senge.

If you’re having difficulty understanding how your organization truly works, read The Fifth Discipline and you will uncover the answers. Thanks Professor Phidd.

My third influencer was from my MBA days at York. Emphasis on York for all you young Schulich grads applying for jobs with TrojanOne. When I went there it was still York. So don’t open with the line, “Oh you went to Schulich as well?” Yes, this grumpy old man went to York!

York University

I can’t say I loved my MBA program. Maybe it was because to graduate you had to do a group project called the “601”. As part of the process, you didn’t get an individual grade. The profs gave us a pile of grades which we had to divvy up among our group members. One slacker in our group didn’t love the low grade we gave her. Candidly, it cost her, her MBA. So she left death threats on the answering machine of our group leader. (Google “answering machine,” youngsters, if you don’t know what I mean.) Yes, this is a true story!

But while at York, I had a great prof called Larry Ginsberg. Don’t know if he is still there but he taught some excellent courses on entrepreneurship and consulting. In his own consulting life, he worked a lot with dysfunctional family businesses. Not that the businesses were dysfunctional, but the families were and he had to repair their working relationships. Made for some great classroom stories.

Ginsberg taught an awesome course where not only did you have to get a real-world consulting client, they had to PAY the university for you to pass. This was the best real-world class I have ever had in academia. I watched several of my classmates fail; to land clients, and some land clients who wouldn’t pay up. Let me tell you folks, it’s the first order of a running a business. Creating a customer. (Thank you Professor Ginsberg and Peter Drucker!)

I often get asked by people whether they have what it takes to start their own business. I suggest to them that if they go to the busiest intersection in their city in their “birthday suit,” they will quickly find out. Those who can get someone to buy them some new clothes before they are arrested will definitely be able to start their own business and they would have passed Ginsberg’s course.

Don’t worry; while this is a flashback to my school days, I am not going streaking through the quad!

The spirit is everywhere and it is like nothing I have ever felt before. Not during a Final Four or Super Bowl or Wimbledon. While I’m not the most traveled person in the world, I have attended all of those events live. I used to think the Final Four had the most amazing sports atmosphere. It is amazing, but the scale of the Olympics is on another dimension.

[BREAK]I would say that only the Calgary Stampede and Disney rival the Olympic spirit. Why Disney? It’s the volunteers. The volunteers at these Games are like Disney employees… except the Vancouver volunteers smile naturally and not because of a biweekly salary. It’s not just the volunteers who smile spontaneously, it’s ticket tackers, security, cashiers, you name it. Everybody is pretty bloody happy.

No bloody pun intended but we drove right into the protest on Saturday and even then the police and emergency crews who diverted us in our rental car were cheery. Maybe they were excited to get a chance to show off their shiny new helmets. But happy they were.

The spirit is impacting the entire city. Canadian flags hanging from condos and cars, shop windows painted with sports and national imagery, everybody adorning their latest purchase from Hbc. It’s impressive. Vancouver is embracing the Games like Calgary embraces the Stampede.

That’s the answer to the “Why Calgary Stampede” part of my earlier quiz.

Love is in the air in Vancouver. It feels like spring to us cold Torontonians here. Especially when the sun is shining like yesterday. There are thousands and thousands of people everywhere and nothing but smiles, hugs, and foreign accents.

It’s truly remarkable. As we marched with throngs of people to see the cauldron yesterday, the crush of humanity to see burning gas was mind-boggling. Inside Canada Hockey (used to be GM) Place, as we cheered on goal after goal scored by our women’s hokey team vs. Slovakia you would have thought each of them was a Stanley Cup Winner. Not a contributor to an 18-0 rout. As my 9-year-old buried his face in the pillows when the last mogul challenger to Alexandre Bilodeau went down the hill, we could feel all of Canada watching to see if we would finally win gold.

I wish I could bottle the spirit up and take it home.

Somebody must have bottled it and secretly injected it into the dozens of people I’ve been in line with. Yes, the Olympics are about lineups and some of them are brutal, but to my pleasant surprise most are manageable.

A major reason they are manageable is that all people want to do is socialize. Yes, the Olympic lineup is more engaging than an online chat room. It seems every time I’m in line people want to reveal more about themselves than they would ever tell their in-laws.

In the span of a few minutes you will quickly find out that the people in front of you have a son in the competition; the Zambonis that keep breaking down are from California; the ticket brokers who sold snowboard standing room tickets aren’t honoring refunds for the cancelled seats; the food at Canada Hockey Place is horrible; that Peter Coors was at the Molson Hockey House; that you’re in the wrong lineup for Will Call; that if you wait long enough a new security tent will open in five minutes; that the Opening Ceremonies ticket takers missed a few people who snuck right up to the front row; that Heineken House is overpriced; that the buses servicing Cypress Mountain were bought on the cash for clunkers program; and that the Dutch faithful wear orange vs. the red-white-blue of their flag due to the lineage of their beloved King Wilhelm.

When I’m in these lines I’m proud to be a Canadian. I’m often a proud Canadian, but this is probably the first time I felt this way on Canadian soil. It’s overwhelming me. Causing me to spend countless dollars on buying Canadian things for my kids. It’s all consuming. It has me screaming at the top of my lungs for speed skaters and female hockey players I have never met before. It has me jealous that I don’t have a significant role in hosting the world at these games. It has me delighted that I’ve been able to see it with my own eyes, and sad that you may not see it with your own.

In fact, my exposure to Paralympians really only began a few years ago when we started planning to have the 2010 Canadian Sponsorship Forum in Whistler, during the Games.

But over the past few months I have been gradually becoming more immersed in the incredible story of Brian McKeever. Even more so recently when I opened my Globe & Mail to see the full-page Vitamin Water ad triumphing his accomplishments. Only then I realized Brian McKeever would be one of the biggest stories of the year.

What he has accomplished is unbelievable.

A former junior national cross-country ski team star, McKeever was diagnosed at 19 with Stargardt’s disease. In just two years he became legally blind.

When I first read this I thought about all the things I experienced as a 19 year old. As a 20 year. As a 21 year old. To think that McKeever went from star athlete to blind during that period, really hit home.

But obviously it did not slow him down. He began training first for Paralympic events and then able-bodied events. In no time he reached the pinnacle of the Paralympic podium, winning gold four times between the 2002 and 2006 Games.

He didn’t stop there. He not only became the first Canadian athlete with a disability to compete in able-bodied race, he finished 24th in the World Championships!!!

I couldn’t imagine being the 24th best at anything in the world. Let alone to be doing it with such a disadvantage.

Now he has gone on to an even higher accomplishment, becoming the first winter athlete ever to qualify for both the Olympics and Paralympics. In my mind that alone should make him the top story in Canadian athletics for the year.

The Olympics gets a ton of exposure, at times dwarfing the Paralympics. The accomplishments of this Canmore Alberta native will be an unbelievable boost to the Paralympic movement.

My friend Henry at the Canadian Paralympic Committee told me that Paralympians eat INSURMOUNTABLE for breakfast. From what I have learned of Brian McKeever, he may eat INSURMOUNATBLE for breakfast, lunch and dinner!

The only good news is I wasn’t alone. Many pundits, bloggers, journalists, commentators and writers were heralding the start of a new decade. Perhaps its because too many surveys are written so you pick your decade from 0 to 9. As in… were you born in the 70s… which is 1970-79. (I wasn’t). Isn’t that a decade? Isn’t 2010 the start of 2010-2019? I think so.

Wasn’t 1999 the last year of the 20th Century? Okay, now we have another time measurement issue. Perhaps I should say the last year of the 1900s. That seems more logical.

Then again I do get the point. 2010 is “10.” And 10 is the end of a ten-year span. But I’m sticking to my guns. Time is different. The third digit in our yearly designation rolled over from 0 to 1, like the odometer on my car. We are in a new era.

To prove it I sent out a survey to a few acquaintances and some other folks to find out if they agreed. More importantly, if they were aligned, I asked them to tell me something they personally would do differently in the next decade.

Every one of them answered it’s the start of a new decade. More importantly, they also shared with me their resolutions to cover up for their multitude of sins.

Look at all the great things we have to look forward to!!!!

Unnamed golfing icon with animalistic name and habits: Resolves to change his name to Cheetah, to get a sponsorship deal from Frank D’Angelo and employ Ben Johnson as his stunt double!

Unnamed assistant coach for a green CFL team: resolves to learn to count to twelve.

Unnamed former head coach for a blue CFL team: resolves to learn to count to twelve.

Unnamed soon to be former mayor of Toronto: resolves in his next job that when he allows his employees to strike to once again ensure they recoup all their lost wages the first weekend back on the job.

Unnamed city in Manitoba that is selling sponsorship to their manhole covers: resolves to raise enough money to pay severance in order fire the person who came up with this zany idea.

Unnamed media industry: resolves not to irresponsibly spread word of pending economic doom in our country, the one with the stable financial sector, just because the crooks to our south messed up bad.

Unnamed media industry: resolves to not cause panic among parents across the country by telling us all our children are about to die if we don’t get them vaccinated by Christmas.

Unnamed coach of Toronto hockey team: resolves to coach the American team in similar way to Toronto team, thereby guaranteeing Trinidad & Tobago their first ever Winter Olympic ice hockey win.

Unnamed hockey sponsor who tried to impose a new hockey cheer on Canadian fans: resolves not to use of the word “eh” in its next 55 TV ads.

Unnamed female American political candidate cum author: Resolves to return as Governor of Alaska, force the state to secede and become the 14th territory of Canada, and then resign to run for Vice-Prime Minister.

Unnamed trio of car companies from Detroit: resolves to quit trying to fool Canadians that they are “domestic” companies and therefore their employees deserve handouts over employees of foreign companies employed in towns such as Alliston and Cambridge do not!

Unnamed hockey team wearing maple leaf on their chest that has to win gold medal in very big upcoming international tournament or an entire country will sulk for two years at which point we can wash away our misery with the 30th anniversary of a certain hockey event played against a certain evil hockey empire who don’t call themselves the Red Army team anymore, but should, especially when they win this big hockey tournament that is coming up: resolves to win it all in convincing style and shut up a certain bald, beige, big belly blogger once and for all.

And I get to coach my high school football team as a volunteer.

You’ve probably heard the story before, about my superhero quarterback, Simon. Well in 2007, when Simon first came to play for me he was a 5’8”, 247-pound wanna be QB, who I played at centre. I kid you not; two-hundred and forty-seven pounds spread over 68 inches. Not a pretty sight.

Especially for him.

Yesterday at practice, as I was chatting with Simon in warm-ups, the weighty topic arose again. In two years this young man has transformed himself into a 5’9”, 181 pound quarterback. One if the best in the city. But skip back a sentence. One hundred and eighty one pounds? Did this kid really lose sixty-six pounds? Wow! How?

Well there may not be an I in team, but there is in WIN. And Simon wanted to win. He wanted to win the starting quarterback spot that I dangled in front of him. He wanted his team to transform from an 0-5 squad, which we were in 2007, to a 2-2-1 squad like we were in 2008. He wanted his best friends to catch touchdowns and enjoy the game.

This was a classic case where the motivation overcame the obstacles. Simon doesn’t starve himself, he makes his own food (pretty heady at 18), and works out constantly, and doesn’t chug 2-litre cream sodas in class in anymore. Which he literally used to do. He would actually sit in class (why the teachers let him I don’t know), hugging a giant bottle of cream soda.

And work out he does. One day when he was still in the “200+” camp, Simon decided to run 10k. He hit a local school track and started the laps, staggering in circles ready to faint. But he told himself, I am running 10k today or I am going to die. Cause if I can run this 10k, I will be convinced I can get under two hundred pounds.

When I go to my office and hear from some staff that they can’t write this deck, or solve this problem, or develop this idea, it makes me wonder… could they lose sixty-six pounds? Are they not motivated by this task at hand? What separates the person who blames society for this difficult project or this excess weight on their hips. But I realize now that motivation has to come from within.

No one could tell Simon to lose 66 pounds. But he wanted to win.

Shockingly, the top corporate sponsorship builder in Canada is a free agent on this chilly September morning.

Inevitably I knew the economic panic we’ve been facing was going to take out the underperformers, the pretenders, and the talkers. Never could I have imagined the market slashes would reach beyond flesh wounds and strike bone. But when Tennis Canada announced a significant restructuring last week, that included their parting ways with Greg, I was proven wrong.

When a great organization has to part with a great talent, it rattles the nerves.

But rather than sit and quake, I am going to use my pen to shake and bake. More specifically I’m going to use my pen to write a pitch.

Wood for Sale. Yes your organization should hire Greg Wood. Better put… your organization should enter the Greg Wood lottery!

We are talking a once in a lifetime opportunity here. To understand take a look at the lifetime of this 42 year old.

Fourteen years at Tennis Canada, where along with current WTA chief Stacey Allaster, he helped solidify the organization’s corporate sponsorships despite having to walk away from the easy cash of big tobacco.

Prior to joining Tennis Canada he was a stellar client relationship manager with Xerox, a passionate executive at the Canadian Diabetes Association, and along the way he was named New Brunswick’s Crime Fighter of the Year. I kid you not.

If you were to ask ten people about Greg Wood, the answers would be unwaveringly consistent:

1. Nicest guy in the world.

2. Smart without acting smart.

3. Always worried about the best interests of others.

4. Pounces on opportunities before the other guy is out of bed.

5. Charming.

6. Practically invented the word integrity.

7. Tireless.

9. Clothes horse

10. Consummate professional

Some people would say Greg could sell anything. Well I agree with them. But the reality is he doesn’t sell.

He builds trust, credibility, and solutions. Then you buy.

There are hundreds of organizations out there that have never done deals with Canada’s largest communications company. Never cut deals with a Middle East airline. Never worked with all the luxury car manufacturers. Never built television agreements with the largest networks in the country.

Woody has done all of the above and more.

Each and every one of you needs to go to your board, ask for a big bucket of cash, and start bidding for Wood. Because whoever wins, those buckets will turn into barrels. Those barrels will turn into boats. And those boats will be come boatloads of cash that will forever keep your organization comfortably afloat.

I didn’t write this because I want a cut. I didn’t write this cause I have a bromance with Greg. Which I do. No, I wrote this for you.

This is your opportunity to sign the top free agent of the year. This is your shot at LeBron, Ovechkin, Ronahldino, and Brady all rolled into one. This your shot. Not his. Not mine.

Greg is getting married this fall. (Sorry ladies.) He’s in the market for a new house. Now he has one more major choice to make it.

That choice is to decide who is the next organization that will benefit from the millions he will bring in, the staff he will cultivate, and the culture he will create.

Cha-ching.