Quick hit on the Leafs last night…
The Leafs were just doubled up on home ice against the worst team in hockey; a team who had won a grand total of three road games all season.
OK, I didn’t start a blog just to rag on the poor, dismal Buds but some performances just can’t be left alone, even if they outshout the ‘Canes 40-18 and even if the fourth goal against was an empty netter.
Growing up an avid fan of the Whoever-The-Leafs-Are-Playings from the beautiful metropolis of Anywhere-But-Toronto, I have somehow located the silver lining to this 42-year (and counting) streak of yikes.
But if you’re actually a Leafs fan, what exactly do you cling to for hope right now?
Is it the general manager, who came equipped with a mirage of successes that vaulted him to the top but never actually did a thing on his own? Or is it their coach, who is so full of intelligence that he took the bench-boss position with the biggest spotlight in sports even though he clearly hates the media?
Is it their budding superstar, who can’t seem to put the puck in the net anymore but always manages a heap of shots straight at the tender’s crest? Or is it the knowledge that same player’s presence on the club means their imminent lottery pick is headed for Beantown?
Maybe it’s the truck load of coin they unloaded on Mike Komisarek, who would have made a fantastic defenceman had he ever learned to skate backwards. It must be that monster between the pipes, who almost resembles an act of self-preservation by the front office because he has this crazy little thing called a future. But right now he couldn’t scare a six-year-old, so time will only tell.
I don’t know what I would think but I know it would involve cursing. Maybe I’d ask myself how I ended up cheering for a team named after something that dies every winter.