Leafs Junkie's Lament

270507/2354—Here we are once again, on the eve of my favourite two weeks of the year: Stanley Cup–final time. And for the third consecutive final, a Canadian team is battling an American team. Usually in such a case, the question of whom I’m rooting for is, to use a basketball metaphor, a slam dunk (would that be a mixed metaphor, then, using a basketball expression in a hockey context?): the Canadian team, of course. Only, this year that formula has encountered a snag, so I’m going into the Cup final with seriously mixed feelings.

Canada’s representative, the Ottawa Senators, has been dynamite since Christmas, and when the Stanley Cup tournament commenced in mid-April, I (purely objectively) picked them as a dark horse to win it all. Their performance in the first three rounds, as they tore through Pittsburgh, New Jersey, and then Buffalo, served to solidify my hunch, but also to push me closer to this abyss I’m now gazing into. See, the Sens are the Toronto Maple Leafs’ provincial rival, and I, unfortunately, am a long-time Leafs junkie (yet another example of my masochistic tendencies). So how can I in good conscience cheer for Ottawa? At the same time, how can I, a hockey-loving Canadian, in good conscience cheer for an American team? I don’t think it even snows in Anaheim.

Hockey fans I’ve talked to are divided into two camps: Leafs diehards are cheering for Anaheim, and everyone else is cheering for Ottawa. Polls across Canada reveal similar allegiances. Apparently, there’s no room in Leaf Nation for the idea of Ottawa winning a Cup. The thought is tantamount to sacrilege, blasphemy, Hell freezing over. I wholeheartedly concur. “No Sens No!” This antipathy is of course rooted in deep-seated envy and bitterness, but that just proves how neurotic Leaf Nation is. I usually laugh when I hear what Gino from Woodbridge has to say on the FAN radio call-in shows, or when I read what he writes on the Sun “Have Your Say” page (yes, I listen to sports radio and occasionally read the Sun). But suddenly I find myself agreeing with him. I don’t think I can find it in my heart to root for Ottawa. It would complicate my already-complicated feelings for the Leafs. Indeed, every time I caught myself cheering for Ottawa against Jersey (only because I hate Jersey more than I do the Sens), I felt like I was cheating on the Buds.

On the other hand, wouldn’t it be so nice for Canada to bring home the cup for the first time in fourteen years? As a hockey fan, I’d not only scream YES!, but also admit that Ottawa would be a very deserving winner. The hockey they’ve played in the last six weeks—hell, since Christmas—has been nothing short of terrific. They’re as dominant a club as I’ve seen in a long time—just look at the teams they beat in the first three rounds—and it wouldn’t at all surprise me if they win. But as much of a hockey fan as I may be, I’m an even bigger Leafs fan. And I’ve already explained what that means. If there were a Leafs Fans Anonymous, I’d have accomplished the first two steps toward joining: 1) admitting that I’m powerless over my addiction, that my life had become unmanageable, and 2) coming to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.

Here’s the stat that kills me: Since the Leafs’ last Stanley Cup appearance in 1967, every team except four expansionists (Atlanta, Columbus, Nashville, and San Jose) and one transplant (Phoenix) has at least been to a Stanley Cup final. (Technically, the Minnesota Wild haven’t made it, but the North Stars did.) Even the two Floridian expansion teams and Carolina (transplanted from Hartford) have made it. Now Ottawa has made it too. In the long run, then, not getting there seems tougher than getting there. Yet Toronto’s shutout streak remains intact, and hearts around Leaf Nation remain broken.

One thing I do love about the Leafs’ missing the playoffs is that I can watch the games objectively, without all the emotional turmoil of worrying that the Buds will lose. So I’ve really enjoyed the last two post-seasons. Last year, the first post-lockout playoffs, the hockey was excellent, and the Cinderella Oilers surprised and charmed a nation, only to fall in Game Seven to the Hurricanes. I rooted for the Oilers, of course, but seeing them lose wasn’t even remotely devastating for me, not like a Leafs loss would be. This year, the hockey hasn’t been quite as exciting—maybe because the refs have called too many chintzy penalties, or because the games have been low scoring—but I’ve still watched every game I can, hoping the Sens wouldn’t make the finals yet fearing they would. Now my fear has come true. So I find myself stuck on a barbwire fence. I honestly can’t cheer for either team. And I can’t cheer for both teams, unless . . . They can split atoms; can they split personalities?

One thing’s for sure: I won’t miss a game.