Behind the gates of Pelican Sound are 1,300 condos, townhomes, coach houses and carriage homes nestled around two golf courses, a half-dozen pools, a cluster of tennis courts and a boat launch. However, what they don’t put on the brochure is the real treasure of the place. The barbecue stations.

Every pool has one. Six high-powered butane miracle machines. They may appear pedestrian as they stand in neat rows, shaded by brush, with a patio table in between. But their power is undeniable. No forewarning could have had me prepared for their might.

It was Day 1 of our stay (if you count arrival day as Day 0. If not, call it Day 2. Please use whatever holiday vernacular best suits you). On Day 1, we did our annual Target pilgrimage in the morning. The boys love that store, almost filling a shopping cart with Shaun White clothing and other bargains.

Dad’s not immune either, picking up a few things, and my parents (Target novices) were over the moon with the place. As great as it will be that Target will soon put Zellers out of its misery, the Canadian arrival of this retailing nirvana will eliminate one commercial treat of our Florida travels.

But I sentimentalize!

After Target, we decided to grab a quick lunch at some place called Hemingway’s in the Coconut Mall. In no way to be confused with Hemis in Yorkville. Disaster did not take long to strike.

My 10 year old slammed the bathroom door on my eight year old’s hand, by accident, but we soon had a busted thumb to deal with.

Rest assured the rest of the day was filled with pharmacy visits, icing of the hand, painkillers and a much-too-delayed trip to the walk-in clinic the next day.

The good news: it wasn’t broken. The bad news: he couldn’t go swimming, play tennis, go biking for a week. Great start to the vacay!

Faced with an uncertain game plan, I trundled off to the BBQs that eve to grill up some ingredients for a little Mexican din din.

Finding an empty grill, I noticed the other two chefs-in-residence understood some of the nuances I didn’t. First, I had no beer. What type of spatulant was I? Further, I had no snacks. No nachos. No dip. No chips. No pretzels. It was very clear to the others that I was either:

A. A BBQ virgin.
B. A Pelican Sound virgin.
C. Hired help for the white woman who kept showing up and telling me what to do.
D. All of the above and too stupid to tell my wife that I could manage the meat.

Embarrassed, I tried to avoid eye contact until I could slip back up to the condo and return with a cold one.

Feeling much more at ease, I was able to make eye contact with the other grillers. Taking a swig, my confidence was restored, especially when I unveiled my tortilla chips and salsa. Before long, I was deeply immersed in a pattern of conversation that repeated itself the other five nights that I hung out with the other BBQ boys.

“Where are you from?” Chicago, Toronto, Ottawa, Oakville, St. Louis, Detroit…

“How long you down for?” We are for a week…until the beginning of April…we have to go home tomorrow…we live here year round now.

“Do you have a place here?” We borrowed from friends…we are renting from a neighbour…we leased from a guy trying to sell.

It never lasted long, we rarely got past first names, but it was a 20-minute ritual that became the highlight of my day. If I headed to the pit and no smoke was billowing, I would be sad to the point of considering a kitchen delay. But invariably someone would show up and off we would go down the get-to-know-you-in-a-hurry expressway.

The conversations took a couple of unique twists. I met a guy who had just had a knee replacement and was lined up for another. His scar made me realize, I’m a wimp. Met some Ohio State fans who were convinced they were going to win the NCAA men’s basketball crown. I even met the father of one my employees. Now that’s a small world.

The best person I met was “Ohio.” When I first saw Ohio, I knew there was something different about him. I didn’t notice the halo at first, but there it was, glistening and bright just a few inches above his bald 60-something noggin of a head.

Yes, I met an angel at the BBQ pit. It’s true!

When Ohio saw my youngster’s thumb (he came to visit Dad in the BBQ pit to see why I was so happy), his sympathy resulted in a suggestion that made our trip. Ohio the angel said, “Take him to Flippers, that will cheer him up.”

So we did.

Flippers is at Lovers Key Resort, a non-descript tower next to a bridge just off Hickory Island. It’s a wisp of a restaurant, all outdoors, holding only 60 people. It’s probably like a thousand other places in the south. A charming, bleached blond, rapidly aging bartender. Who makes a mean Hurricane. A harried bald host, who probably came down from Syracuse for spring break in 1975 and forgot to leave. Chatty patrons gathered at the few bar stools all patiently waiting for their name to be called. A sunset that suggested we’d see dolphins dancing in the surf.

Flippers was everything the angel said it would be. I can still smell the Mahi off my pate mixed with the salt of the sea.

On your next vacation, look for the hallowed grounds of the BBQ. It is heaven. I’ve met an angel to prove it.

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)

Don’t get me wrong, Haligonians; I’m not saying that there isn’t serious business to be done in your beautiful harbour town. It’s just that it also happens to be one fun city. Of course, what would you expect when you combine six universities, the largest military base in Canada, and a downtown core highlighted by a collection of bars called “The Liquor Dome?”

But my real reason for going to Halifax last week was “business” and specifically to attend the spectacular 2011 Canada Winter Games. CEO Chris Morrissey, who oversaw the first games north of 60 in Whitehorse (2007), and deputy CEO Lindsay Hugenholtz, recently named one of the most influential women of 2010 by CAAWS, had their team firing on all cylinders!

The marketing motto for the event was “What will you Bring to the Games?” I hope they aren’t cross with me because all I brought were my eyes, my pen… oh, and according to my finance department, my AMEX card!

Most importantly, I was ready for some fun and games!

When I arrived at the accreditation center at the Westin Hotel, it was obvious that the staff had been going hard for a week. Even worse, they had another week to go! But despite the fact that my name wasn’t really on any official lists, it took Tanya and Jane all of five seconds to whip me up a pass, take my photo, load me up with swag and make me feel like royalty! Off to a good start.

St. Margarets Bay, Nova Scotia

Next up, I wanted to see the short track speed skating, so off I went to the arena at the hands of a volunteer driver. I asked to go to St. Margarets. He said, “Saint Margarets Bay?” I said, “Yes, St. Margarets.” At which point I was advised that #1 it was pretty clear I was not from around here; #2 I was allowed to call it either St. Margarets Bay or The Bay; and #3 I was NOT allowed to call it St. Margarets. Okay, so off to The Bay we went.

Truth be told, my driver was fabulous. As were the other dozens of volunteers I met. In fact, I think I met every one of the 5,000 folks who were contributing their time to the event.

The Canada Games are a stepping-stone for international competitions like the Pan Ams, Commonwealth Games, Paralympics, and Olympics. But when I got to the Bay for the short track, I almost felt like I was back in Vancouver a year ago. The arena was SRO and the action unbelievable. Remember the name Ann-Véronique Michaud, who at 19 has only been speed skating for 15 years! The 500M gold medal winner cites her coach Jonathan Guilmette as her role model and is fast building a resume that could soon see her on the world stage.

Ann-Véronique Michaud

I stuck around for the short track relay events, where Quebec dominated both the male and female races, before I hitched a ride all the way back with some Games society staff, including one of my former SPAD students Kim Russell. Thanks for the lift and thanks for not lecturing me on local geography!

I got dropped off at St. Mary’s to watch some of the squash! My right knee tingled with painful memories of the last time I was on a court and blew out my knee. But it wasn’t nearly as sore as my jealousy bone. I watched the B.C. women take on the Ontario women and the play of these kids was unreal. After four matches split 2-2; B.C. won gold 167-165 on some point tiebreaker I didn’t understand.

Beer

So far the sports had been fantastic, but I needed a beer. So it was off to the premier’s reception at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. I was playing “small world” with a guy I met there and blurted out the name Karen Hood. She was a Dal grad and soccer player and Trojan employee 3B some 15 years ago! While my new beer mate didn’t know Karen, a passing woman said, “Karen Hood? Dalhousie Karen Hood? I played soccer against her when I was at St. Mary’s.” Of course you did, I thought… I am in Halifax. (Author’s note: I did send Karen a hello email, Tara!)

The Nova Scotia premier was funnier than I expected, but that didn’t stop me from bolting early to get to the hockey game. I felt like I was at a wedding… wait ‘til the bride and groom are talking to some old people and then warm up the car. Problem is, in 2011, I am the old person. Nevertheless, I made my escape and headed up to the Metro Centre to watch Ontario destroy B.C. in the men’s hockey semis.

Okay, now for some truth. Ontario lost. And these aren’t men. They are 16-year-old boys. But the hockey was brilliant nonetheless. The Canada Games tournament featured Nova Scotia’s Nathan McKinnon, who is from Cole Harbour, attends Shattuck-Saint Mary’s prep school in Faribault, Minnesota, and is often compared to some other hockey player from Nova Scotia.

During the game, a fellow strolled in who runs Tim Hortons’ marketing for all of Atlantic Canada. Turns out he is from my hometown of Orilia and recognized me. I was shocked. Not just because he recognized me without my trademark Michael Jackson afro. Nor because he recognized me without my trademark velour shirts. Nor because he recognized me even though I have grown many inches since high school. No, I was shocked that two of us had jobs.

The core element of our catching-up was about the infamous “bow tie” éclair that Tim’s used to sell. Yep, for 25¢, I could have a “bow tie,” which featured a huge pastry, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a cherry… and a drink. Me and my buddy used to stroll down after school and get one far too often. I blame them for stunting my growth.

When the beating by B.C. had finished, we were off to the pub. Many of those involved will remain nameless – some are clients, some are staff, others were down there on business and may work at the Hockey Hall of Fame. All were seen at the Split Crow… and the Lower Deck… and the Ale House… and Pizza Corner… and getting back to their hotel rooms at 5:04 in the morning. (Not me, honey, honest!) Along the way, we ran into Rod Black, who was providing these young athletes with glamorous TV coverage; Tie Domi, who was watching his son play for Team Ontario and trying to forget the night he spent in Calgary telling people I was Donald Brashear, and the amazing Catriona Le May Doan.

Donald Brashear

Catriona Le May Doan

The next day was decidedly quieter. Until I got to the Midtown Tavern for lunch and my friend Robert Logan had the proprietor send over his favourite lunchtime bevy. To be clear, Robert claims the advantage of this is that your beer doesn’t get warm because you don’t touch the glass. Really there are two things I want you to take away from this. One, don’t ever confuse Robert Logan with any other Atlantic Canadian, as he clearly doesn’t measure up. Secondly, if you are ever in Halifax… have lunch at the Midtown. It is an institution. And everybody has a beer in front of them. At lunch! What a concept.

Things got much, much noisier when I made it to Cole Harbour, and the very arena that Sid the Kid hones his skills in, for the gold medal ringette game. Have you ever seen ringette live? This was only my second time. Ironically both times in Nova Scotia. You have to see it to believe it. What a game.

Fast. Strategic. Intense. Let’s boot the Leafs out of the ACC and invite Team Ontario and Team Alberta to play a rematch. These young women battled their hearts out in one of the best sports events I have seen in months. I was perched just behind the Alberta parents and their energy could heat a pool. Unreal.

Cole Harbour Ringette

I am seriously going to find a local tournament next winter and take my sons to watch. If you have a daughter, give this sport a long look. The skating skills of these girls are insane!

After getting my bell rung, I hitched a ride in a cargo van with a volunteer who was transporting wheelchairs for a basketball team. What a great guy. I’m embarrassed I don’t have his name, but he lives in Nova Scotia and commutes to Mississauga on Mondays and home again Fridays. For work. Every week. Clearly the rest of us need to head to Nova Scotia and smell the roses! They must be worth it!

I was headed back to the gold medal hockey game, which B.C. won. After the game, I stood in the arena until there were no fans left and the equipment managers were picking stuff off the ice from the post-game celebration. I watched a parcel of parents hug, high-five, and congratulate each other. I was so jealous. There are no higher drugs than being part of a championship moment. Their sons had just won a Canada Games gold medal. Those 16-year-old boys were elated at what they had accomplished. But it will be years before they realize that the emotions in their moms and dads were many times their own.

If I had gone home to bed, my trip would have been considered highly satisfying. However, the Lower Deck called my name and it was back for another Sociable at the bar! Met some old friends there, including Michelle and Katrina from the B.C. mission staff. Met some new friends there, including Ryan from Ottawa who grew up with one of my key staffers. Got to watch autograph hounds quiz Catriona and ask her for pictures. The #1 comment? “You look taller on TV!” I asked Catriona if they knew that speed skaters wore skates when they competed. Oh, I think I’m so smart!

The next day, I had a lunch chat with a buddy from Halifax who filled me in on all the gossip and then I zoomed to the airport. Flew home next to the mom of one the hockey referees. She had gone all the way from Waterloo to see her son referee in Halifax. At 22, his selection to the Canada Games was quite an honour.

Yes, Halifax was fun. But the Games are serious business. Seriously important to our culture.

If you think about it, that is almost twice the size of the Canadian sponsorship industry, according to research we sponsor through the Institute for Sports Marketing.

The rationale for the size, scope, and importance of this sector was aptly summarized by one of the event’s PRESTIGE award winners.
(For details, visit http://www.canadiansporttourism.com).

President of Trade Center Ltd. in Halifax, Scott Ferguson, collected the hardware for Sport Event of the Year, awarded for their staging of the 2008 IIHF World Hockey Championships.

Ferguson’s acceptance speech zeroed in on the future of the Canadian sport tourism industry. To be successful, he stated, the industry must focus on the business they are truly in. That business isn’t so much “sports tourism”, as it is economic development. He cited the tens of millions of dollars that Events Halifax spins off on an annual basis. And he is right on!

For many of the 300 stakeholders, attracting and running great events is their daily focus. However, their true mission should be about contributing to the economic growth of their communities. Certainly hosting great events will bring return visits and new events. Yet maximizing the impact of that event on the host community’ economy will attract more funding from government and private sectors.

Ferguson also implored the delegates to constantly remind all levels of government that they are in the business of “Economic Development”, to ensure that this crucially important, publicly funded, support is continued.

I think it’s important that all sectors of the sports marketing industry do their part as well. Without this government support, corporations won’t have audiences to market to, coaches won’t have events to prepare their athletes for, broadcasters won’t have content to cover, agencies won’t have venues for activations, and horror of horrors – thunder-stick makers will go bankrupt!