This post is going to feel like something from the back of a yearbook. I’m terribly sorry. You wouldn’t entirely know it but I can we be warm, fuzzy dare I say squishy individual. A year ago I wrote this post, I think you remember it fairly well. Let’s revisit it, in the wake of bloody massacre of a break up it became apparent I could no longer be a Canucks fan. Which was ok, because really as far as NHL teams went, I wasn’t really committed. The team I hold closest to my heart is of course my Spokane Chiefs. Note the “my.” I am possessive. Some silly boy was not going to take them.
But in terms of an NHL team? I was up for grabs as an unrestricted free agent. Quickly, a bidding frenzy began seeing offers from the Red Wings, the Penguins, the Devils and of course the Maple Leafs. Many teams showed up stating their case. It was a bit of a cage match that I for sure enjoyed watching unfold. But I knew I was a Leafer. And last season was my official first season as a Toronto fan, much to the delight of Eyebleaf. I don’t know what it was, but me loving the Leafs just made sense. It seemed like it fit. The community is tremendous and far-reaching and embraced my Pacific Northwest charms. Luke Schenn sure made liking the Leafs easy enough, but the team itself has it’s quirks. But it’s more than just his good looks.
I perhaps chose one hell of a season to be a Leafs fan but I endured. I tend to subscribe to the idea, “don’t read what they write about you, just measure it in inches.” And there was plenty for the media to write about. But the season truly did have some bright and shining spots. Mikhail Grabvoski vs the Canadiens, Luke Schenn’s Unreal Game and the Coach Killers. I clung to the hope that the Leafs would select Jared Cowen and he would join OLAS and rules the blue line. Those damned dirty Senators picked him up. But I have faith in Brian Burke deciding that Nasty Nazem Kadri should be in the blue and white. Even aggravating at times, I still love this team and I truly defend it. Especially when I was in the last of many many Habs fans with 67 being chanted. You can just fuck right off, sir. I don’t care.
I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.