Fun Raiser

As a four-time world-champion skater, Kurt Browning would glide across the ice effortlessly, executing difficult jumps with consummate ease, landing perfectly and smiling at the adoring crowds. This weekend, we can watch him do it all again - on dry land. Browning is the star of this year's Muscular Dystrophy Telethon on YTV. The annual Labor Day fundraiser will feature a few changes - it's shorter! - but the constant is Browning's appeal to Canadians. We love this guy. We have followed him through the Olympic Games and the world championships - holding our collective breath through lutzes, spins, toe loops, and bad judging - and we have remained faithful fans through Browning's transition from amateur athlete to professional skater/media star.

The Muscular Dystrophy Association of Canada has hitched its Labor Day fortunes to a sure bet. Browning brings charm, credibility and an immense reservoir of class to a telecast that many viewers associate with an American comic who is singularly lacking in the aforementioned qualities. Jerry Lewis has never skated in the Olympics. And Kurt Browning, to his credit, has never kissed Ed McMahon.

Browning is special - and extremely marketable - because his likability is rare among contemporary athletes. When they're not striking to boost seven-figure salaries or locked out by their billionaire employers, sports stars spend their time pouting, fighting with fans and the press, skipping child support payments and checking in and out of dependency clinics. Just when you thought the boy next door was an extinct species, along comes Kurt Browning, an affable chap whom the camera loves.

He is a TV natural. "I've been performing since I was 13, starting in small towns," says Browning, 29. "You get to feel that people are the same everywhere. When I figured out that the TV camera was just people, it became easy."

Browning's first talking role on television was at the world championships in 1993. Sitting next to the CBC's Brian Williams, Browning analyzed his own free-skating routine, "It was fun," he recalls." And then I started doing my own specials."

Browning's transition to television benefits from the fact that he competed as a solo athlete in a judged sport. Surliness is not an acceptable persona in figure skating. "You get on the ice and you've got three minutes to leave an impression with people," Browning explained during a phone conversation. "And also signing autographs or meeting people in a mall, you learn to interact. That's what I do on the telethon, mini-conversations with Bob from the 7-11, asking him how he collected the money. You have to make it interesting for the folks at home."

Who could resist reaching for a cheque book when Browning asks us to help fight a disease that cripples children?"

And he has had a lot of practice. This is his sixth Labor Day telethon. He was the regional host of the Edmonton fundraiser before moving to Toronto last year when the event became a national telecast on YTV. "It involves more time and responsibility," Browning said.

Actually the telecast itself involves less time this year. The 26th annual fundraiser has been cut back from 20 hours to 10. It will begin at noon on Monday and wrap up at 10 p.m. John Bery, director of telethon development for the Muscular Dystrophy Association of Canada, says a shorter telethon will save money on production costs and reach a larger audience. "Strategically, by going into Monday night, we'll be able to reach people who are getting home from the long weekend," Berry explains.

Browning says the hard part of doing the telethon - apart from wearing a tie - is balancing entertainment with heartstring tugging. "I know that people at home are bombarded with requests for money," he admits. "I just try to stay sincere and low-key." It's the Browning way.