Just be nice

I’m a pretty avid rollerblader. I basically go out for 30-40 minutes every day from March through December unless it’s raining

(ruins the wheel bearings) or there’s too much snow on the ground. After many years of football, rugby and hockey, and multiple knee and rotator cuff surgeries, it’s a way to stay fit without beating up what’s left of my joints (except for the odd crash).

Along with that, I’m not necessarily the type that’s looking for new friends - I’m lucky in that through this industry and my sports background I have many. I guess like Jerry Seinfeld said to Ramon the pool guy, “I already have enough friends.” I don’t really know my neighbours except for one or two - I don’t really need to know them the way I see it. What I’m saying is that I don’t really go out of my way to say “hi” to people I don’t know.

When I rollerblade each day though, especially since COVID hit hard back in March, I find myself being overly friendly to people. Whether I’m on the roads and the paved path near my house, or the ones at the family cottage, at certain times of the day it gets quite crowded out there during this pandemic - and back in April at least, it seemed like everybody was looking at everyone else in fear, like you might be the one with the virus that was going to give it to them.

I’m definitely one out there who does his best to stay distant and ease people’s minds. I’m the first to step off the curb and onto the road (at high speed) to make sure I keep my distance. But most everyone out there still looked terrified. So eventually I found myself going out of my way to smile and wave at everyone I passed - and when I’m on the road itself I wave “thank you” to every car that scoots around me. The results have actually been amazing.

Cars that used to honk at me in anger now often beep encouragement as I wave when they approach from behind. People out walking, who first looked at me like I was an idiot, now mostly smile and wave back. The biggest difference however, has come from a specific group of people that I pass every day when I’m blading near my house. For approximately four kilometres of my journey I go past a neighbourhood that is largely populated by people from India and Pakistan. Many of the older women that live there walk on the path in the evenings, most of them dressed in traditional Indian saris, and such. At first, when I’d smile and wave, they wouldn’t even glance my way. I’m not sure if they were scared of me, more than twice their size and hurtling by them at 20 kms/hr, or if they just thought that I was some sort of weirdo. But I kept waving and smiling - screw it, right? Now they all wave and smile, and usually do so first. It’s really quite nice.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it when I say that large parts of our world are in a pretty rotten place right now. The virus has killed almost one million people, and here in Canada we’re into what seems to be the second wave, while in the U.S. quite frankly, the first wave never ended. There is social unrest in the streets of many North American cities over race relations, and there’s a U.S. Presidential Election upon us that will probably escalate division, tension and violence in that country regardless of who wins. Something like Facebook no longer seems to be a place where family members just share photos of the kids with each other and where one can get caught up with old friends and classmates - it’s more of a place now where people argue, spew hate, and block each other. My friend, trainer Dean Nixon, recently commented on a thread I was reading (and I’m paraphrasing), “I liked the world much better when people rarely shared their thoughts on politics and religion.” I’m with ya Dean-o!

So how is my waving and smiling at older Indian women while I speed past them on rollerblades changing the world? It’s probably not. But it’s changing my world a little and it’s changing theirs a bit too.

None of us is going to make our world a happier and better place overnight, but you never know when a small gesture will change a life.

Maybe you read the piece that I wrote on Paul MacDonell’s entrance into the Canadian Horse Racing Hall Of Fame (July 2020 issue of TROT). Something in that piece that really stuck with me was when Paul came into his barn one morning approximately 30+ years ago and found out that a new stable had moved in overnight. Rather than just start jogging horses, Paul went down the shedrow to introduce himself and make the stranger feel welcome. That stranger was Brent MacGrath, and that handshake was the first step in a chain of events that eventually led to Paul driving the greatest racehorse that many of us have ever seen set foot on the track - Somebeachsomewhere.

So go tell Paul MacDonell that a small nicety isn’t going to change anyone’s life. My guess is that he might disagree.

Dan Fisher
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