"SportsCentre" with an "-re" recalls old-school "SportsCenter" with an "-er"

When I offered a sweeping stereotype of how the United States sees Canada — as a big, boring nephew to the north — Jay Onrait explains his grand theory of the reverse view. “I always looked at America as a whole as the cool, loud, brash frat brother who lived in our basement,” the sports anchor said. “We love to go down there and party because it’s always an awesome time, but at some point we just have to close the door.”

Canada has to work hard to avoid being culturally subsumed by the loud bro downstairs. While the U.S. gladly adopts the best of Canada culture (Arcade Fire, John Candy, Mike Myers) right along with the worst of Canadian culture (Nickelback, Pamela Anderson, Mike Myers) without a second thought, Canada clings to a Canadian-ness that even Canadians find impossible to define.

But here’s one thing the Canadians got right. We gave ’em SportsCenter and they sharpened it into something that is, at times, downright inspired. North of the 49th Parallel we watch a show called SportsCentre, and in large part because of Onrait, who has been in the anchor’s chair there for nearly a decade, it’s the silliest news program outside of The Daily Show. Like so much in Canada, it’s instantly recognizable and slightly askew. Imagine ESPN’s SportsCenter ­— with the familiar sound effects and motion graphics cribbed from Optimus Prime’s last colonoscopy — with a dash of Stephen Colbert and an aftertaste of Wayne’s World.

Or just watch some YouTube and rejoin us in a couple of minutes. Here’s a compilation of somebody’s favorite moments between Onrait and fellow anchor Dan O’Toole. Canadians gorge on these clips like cat videos.

I called Onrait mostly to ask how they get away with it. SportsCenter felt like this 20 years ago, but now? The humor on ESPN’s flagship show lands somewhere between a beer commercial and a farm report.

Onrait got into the business in the mid-’90s as a writer for SportsDesk, which became SportsCentre after ESPN bought a stake in TSN, the Canadian sports network. “We got a chance to watch those amazing heyday years of Olbermann and Patrick and Kilborn,” he said. “I thought it was amazing. I loved it.” His theory on ESPN’s devolution since: “When they had all those contract issues with Olbermann, I think they just decided, ‘We can’t let the personalities be bigger than the show,’ and I totally respect that.”

Onrait also draws inspiration from the old Late Show, in which David Letterman made a recurring shtick out of the fact that he didn’t have Johnny Carson money to sling around. After his stint as a writer, he did the ol’ broadcaster’s tour, holding down a sports desk job in Saskatoon for a year and then a daily, three-hour, unscripted morning show in Winnipeg for two more. (“I felt like I needed to get a bit of experience without a Teleprompter,” he said.) When he returned to Toronto he did a stint with the NHL Network, then filled in on SportsDesk capably enough to make a good impression just before an anchor job opened up, in 2002. A few months later, Dan O’Toole joined the show. Given that Onrait first met “Producer Tim” Moriarty when they interned on SportsDesk together in 1996, the core of SportsCentre goes back long enough to carry off some obvious chemistry. Also, obvious mustaches.

At a charity golf tournament he was hosting a few days ago, Onrait bumped into Marshall Faulk. The former NFL MVP already had seen the show and began grilling the host, Onrait remembered: “Man, you’re talking on TV, then I hear the other guy yelling something from off-camera, then you’re on and he’s yelling something — what’s going on?” That’s the show-within-a-show that makes SportsCentre worth watching even if (and this is a big “if”) you couldn’t care less about minor-league hockey and the Canadian Football League. Admittedly, many of the jokes would seem borderline ridiculous if they weren’t playing against SportsCenter. But of course, they are. The American version has become the straight man, and damned if it’s not the Canadians who seem to be having the decidedly more awesome time.