As the CFL's most beloved gopher, my dad gave joy to football fans — and life lessons to me
As Gainer the Gopher, my dad was a legend both on and off the field
This First Person piece was written by Adam Ennis, a marketing and advertising professional in Regina. His father, Terry Ennis Jr., played the role of Saskatchewan Roughriders mascot Gainer the Gopher for decades until retiring at the end of the 2022 season.
For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
I was always fascinated seeing my dad transform from Terry Ennis Jr. into Gainer the Gopher, the CFL's most iconic mascot. It was like watching an athlete dress before a game.
My dad was always into sports. From what I hear, he was quite a good goaltender in his younger, hockey-playing days. That came through in the way he cared for, and suited up in, Gainer's fur.
He showed me that it was always important to wear a pair of good running shoes inside the Gainer feet. He taped up his ankles like a hockey player tapes up their shin pads.
I always asked the same question as he zipped up the front of the suit.
"How many times do you think you've zipped that thing up?"
He always responded, "thousands and thousands."
Gainer has been around since 1977 and my dad first put it on for events in the mid '80s. He shared game day duties through the '90s with a guy named Don Trevena. After that, it was just dad for decades until he retired at the end of the 2022 season.
It was around that time, when he became the one and only Gainer, that I began my career as his handler, both at games and events.
Once everything but the top piece was on, he would usually have a few minutes to sit in silence, my dad's head sticking out of a gopher's body.
I would sit with him, quietly observing as he mapped out the game in his head. Commotion bounced off the walls around us as game-day staffers, cheerleaders, opposing team members and the officials geared up.
He would hold his watch as he sat. He knew the exact minute he had to be ready. When the time came, he would say something like, "All right, I better get my ass out there," put on the head — for years it was attached to a Cooper hockey helmet — and tighten the chin strap.
That head never had any fans built into it to help with the heat. My dad never wore ice-pack vests to keep him cool. He knew he could face heat exhaustion, especially during mid-summer games, but that never deterred him.
The last step was the gloves. I always stuck around to help him tuck them into his arm sleeves and make sure that his collar was set in the back. After that, I said, "All right, see ya out there. Don't be late."
He never was.
Our road trips together
You know the feeling of waking up absurdly early for a vacation flight? You didn't sleep well, you fight a little bit of anxiety, but you're excited and want to get the show on the road.
That's the feeling I had every time I rose before dawn to travel to whatever small Saskatchewan town Gainer the Gopher was scheduled to visit that day.
We had a consistent routine that began with a stop at Robin's for doughnuts and Vi-Co, Saskatchewan slang for chocolate milk.
These road trips became cherished moments for me. The lessons my dad taught me on those long drives planted seeds deep inside my heart that have since sprouted and grown into the thoughts, ideas and relationships that I nurture today.
My dad taught me that if I wanted something, there was no reason why I couldn't put in the work to make it mine. I learned how to treat people, how to be respectful and professional.
He also listened to me, helped me find the demons that could eat me up and gave me the tools to defeat them.
I learned that life is a gift and that I'm in charge of it.
Game day
Game day mornings were always the same. There was a quiet excitement and a feeling of responsibility.
During the pre-game, we planned how to work each section of the stadium and in what order. We would also take inventory of the Gainer cart, a wagon that dad had spray-painted green. Over the years that cart carried all sorts of Gainer game-day essentials: referee mannequins, fake 30-pound weights, giant water guns, "I'm with stupid" signs, and Gainer stuffed animal toys.
Gainer's intro always came at a specific time on the pre-game countdown clock. I was always on edge in the minutes before he came out, thinking about what could go wrong. Then I'd hear it.
"And now, all the way from Parkbeg, Saskatchewan, the number one mascot in the CFL — GAINER THE GOPHER!"
Every single time he ran onto the field, goosebumps covered my skin and tears welled in my eyes.
Dad would stay on the field for the players' intro and national anthem. After that, everyone cleared the field except for the players and officials — and Gainer. He figured out a long time ago that if he stayed at midfield for the coin toss, no one asked him to leave.
After it was decided who would kick off and who would receive, players from both teams would return to their benches, but my dad would stand there alone just for a second. I always loved watching him take it all in. After all the years, this was still a special moment for him and I loved that. When he did come to the sidelines, I would have his NOISE sign ready for kick-off.
The crowd adored him. In those moments, I was the proudest son in the world.
Dad has retired from his time as Gainer now. Just remember that, for a long time, there was just one man underneath that stinky fur that made it all happen.
He's the smartest, most caring, loving, helpful, generous man I know. Of course, he'll always be my dad, but to me he'll also always be Gainer the Gopher.
Interested in writing for us? We accept pitches for Opinion and First Person pieces from Saskatchewan residents who want to share their thoughts on the news of the day, issues affecting their community or who have a compelling personal story to share. No need to be a professional writer!
Read more about what we're looking for here, then email sask-opinion-grp@cbc.ca with your idea.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
