Published: August 14, 2008 11:30 pm      

SCHMITT: NFL just isn't the same in T.O.

COMMENTARY

TORONTO — Todd Cloutier puffed on a stogie just a hundred yards or so from Gate 14 at Rogers Centre before the Bunsen burner on Thursday night’s NFL experiment was officially lit.

Cloutier wanted a beer. So did his buddy, Dan McGowan.

If this was Orchard Park, the two would have simply fished their hands through a cooler filled with ice soup, plucked the empties from their “Kelly for President” coozies, and refilled with a pair of wide-mouth cans.

Unfortunately, at least in Cloutier’s eyes, this was not Orchard Park. In fact, little about the Bills’ “home” exhibition opener against the Pittsburgh Steelers felt like a chilly afternoon at Ralph Wilson Stadium. A bagpiper wailed on the foot of the Rogers Centre’s steps. A vendor hawked framed drawings of hockey players (and some NFL guys).

And Cloutier stood in a long line for a cold one, waiting patiently while a single person checked IDs at the Renaissance Hotel beer garden.

Cloutier doesn’t miss many Bills games, even though he lives in the Toronto suburb of Etobicoke. He’s got season tickets, starting his trek down the Queen-E each Sunday morning soon after 7 a.m., hoping to get comfortably into a spot to lower the proverbial tailgate a couple hours later.

“My wife was a lot happier about this,” Cloutier said. “She knew I could leave about 40 minutes before the game and still make it.”

While most of Cloutier’s observations were astute, he might want to recalculate his drive time. Getting in and around Rogers Centre was maddening prior to Thursday’s kickoff, not because of the pregame buzz, but because Toronto is — consider this a newsflash — one of the busiest cities in North America.

Whoever the genius was that decided Thursday during happy hour would make a perfect time for NFL football in downtown T.O. probably devised the plan to shuffle the Dolphins game to the wrong side of the Queenston-Lewiston bridge.

But Cloutier persevered, as did a decent number of other Canadians, not to mention a few Americans. Rather than popping brats on a hibachi while throwing back Blue Lights, he and McGowan had football experiences that were decidedly more cosmopolitan.

“By 9:30, I’m usually in full tailgate mode,” Cloutier said. “(Thursday), I sat in a pub all day in the financial district.

“I’d prefer the other.”

There was nothing wrong with Thursday’s festivities. After living in Arizona for seven years, I can say first-hand that Toronto’s tailgating wouldn’t be the league’s worst if the Bills moved north. At least Toronto was trying. Some of the ticket holders seemed like genuine NFL fans, but there was also a sense that many showed up to see and be seen.

When a Buffalo Niagara commercial highlighting Shea’s and a number of other area landmarks aired on the Rogers Centre’s Jumbotron, however, it was greeted by just a smattering of applause. No heartfelt cheers. No genuine emotion.

Steelers jerseys outnumbered Bills jerseys nearly 2-to-1. And I couldn’t believe how many other team jerseys shuffled through the turnstiles. I didn’t spot a single Trent Edwards shirt, but counted eight of Brett Favre’s.

And don’t think the Bills didn’t notice. Donte Whitner said, “we have to get the crowd a little more into it,” and Robert Royal added it was obvious a lot of Pittsburgh fans were at the game.

The Steelers sounded rosy after the loss, with Ben Roethlisberger’s comment on the field’s bad turf the only derogatory statement.

Not exactly an angry Bryan Cox mouthing off at a group of fans that hated him as much he hated them.

Maybe moving the Bills to Toronto a couple times a year will ensure the franchise’s viability in Western New York. Maybe T.O. gets its own team some day.

Either way, there was little about Thursday’s experience that resembled the games we’ve come to know and love.

Even Canadians like Cloutier and McGowan would admit that.

I saw them cut out of line and make a beeline for the gate with about 40 minutes to go until kickoff.

How come?

“They stopped selling beer in the beer garden,” McGowan said. “Who does that?”

Not us.