Fisherman's Road

HEADLINE :  Snip, snip By Ryan Cleary The Fighting Newfoundlander Published in The Independent newspaper,  Jan. 25, 2008   I already miss John Crosbie, and he hasn’t even had his “knockers” removed yet. That’s his word, not mine. I can’t imagine Crosbie without the sizeable knockers he walks around with.   A mortal Newfoundlander would have to use a wheelbarrow.   I can tell you this: he wouldn’t have had much of a career without his knockers.   He definitely wouldn’t have been able to pour Sheila Copps that shot of tequila before he asked her to lay own and love him again. But then the problem with feminists is that they have no sense of humour. (Crosbie’s words again, not mine).   They don’t know when to just “quiet down, baby.” I come today not to bury Crosbie, but to indirectly praise him, and give “the old curmudgeon,” which is what he called his one-time column in the pages of this newspaper, a couple of last knocks for good measure.

John Crosbie passed away a week ago (Jan. 10th), but it wasn’t the first time his voice was silenced. Twelve years ago, in January 2008, Crosbie was appointed Lieutenant Governor, the Queen’s representative in Newfoundland and Labrador, and had to refrain from public commentary. In his words, Crosbie had to leave his “knockers” at the Government House door. At the time, I was editor-in-chief of The Independent newspaper, and published the following column: HEADLINE : Snip, snip   By Ryan Cleary The Fighting Newfoundlander Jan. 25, 2008   I already miss John Crosbie, and he hasn’t even had his “knockers” removed yet. That’s his word, not mine. I can’t imagine Crosbie without the sizeable knockers he walks around with.   A mortal Newfoundlander would have to use a wheelbarrow.   I can tell you this: he wouldn’t have had much of a career without his knockers.   He definitely wouldn’t have been able to pour Sheila Copps that shot of tequila before he