I have to admit something. I’m as excited as a little girl who just got a pony for Christmas. Why, you may ask? Because hockey.  

But for me it’s an excitement tempered with the nervousness of a long-suffering Maple Leafs fan who has waited way too long for this damned drought to end. The last time the Leafs won the Stanley Cup, it was the Summer of Love, the Beatles had just released Sgt. Pepper, the top TV show was The Beverly Hillbillies, the average house cost 14 thousand dollars, Lester Pearson was the Prime Minister, Canadians were celebrating the Centennial with Expo 67, and I was just a kid but already a die-hard Leafs fan, having discovered the beauty of the game watching the Leafs win three Stanley Cups a few years before. I was hooked. How was I to know that watching the Leafs hoist that 4th Cup in six years on our black and white television is something I wouldn’t see again until I was a senior citizen? Not to count my chickens before they hatch, but now, finally, 54 years after that last one, they have a real shot.  

In all those intervening years, my loyalty never wavered. We didn’t have organized hockey when I was in grade school in Dorchester, but on our road we had the frog pond. And when there wasn’t other kids to play with, I was out there alone, lost in my imagination where I was Davy Keon or Frank Mahovlich or Tim Horton scoring the overtime goal against the Canadiens to win the cup. And the crowd went wild.

Like so many Canadian kids back then, my dream was to join the Leafs when I grew up. That dream faded as the reality set in that I wasn’t much of a player, I couldn’t skate very well and as it turns out, that’s a real detriment to hockey success. This came to light the one year we did have organized hockey. My skill level meant I was best suited to warming the bench. Nevertheless I was part of the Dorchester Braves, and as such, I share with my then teammates the historic distinction of being the last team to win a New Brunswick championship on an outdoor rink. How’s that for a claim to fame? It was 1968. That’s me on the extreme left, second row. We couldn’t afford crests but we had team sweaters.

But I digress. Back to the issue at hand – the Leafs march to the Stanley Cup.  

The first hurdle is beating their first round match-up, the despised Montreal Canadiens. That begins Thursday. It will mark the first time these two teams will meet in the playoffs since 1979.  

On top of all that, the Leafs haven’t won a playoff series since 2004. Did I mention it’s been a while?  

But the Leafs haven’t been this good since they won those cups back in the sixties. This is what has me so, how should I put this…. cautiously optimistic.  I realize the odds aren’t in their favour. HockeyExperts.com rates their chances to win the cup at 18 percent.  I don’t care. All I care about is that the Leafs beat the Canadiens. And then either Edmonton or Winnipeg, and then whatever American teams cross their path.  

Obviously, I don’t know how far they will go. That’s the beauty of it. Nobody does. But if they don’t beat the Canadiens I will be fit to be tied. Can you just imagine how insufferable Habs fans would be if they beat Toronto?

I know. I know, it’s only a game. And true there are more important things. But this year especially, with the curse of Covid, hockey is more than ever my escape. A time when I pull the Lazyboy up in front of the TV and think of nothing else, riding the ups and downs as far as my Leafs can take me.  As the introduction to the old ABC’s Wide World of Sports used to say - The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. To borrow from Neil Young - long may you run.  

I can hardly wait for Thursday night. Bring on the Canadiens. Go Leafs! 

By the way, the timeworn photos in this blog are from my hockey scrapbook, from when I was 11. I knew it would come in handy someday.   

Thanks for reading. Shares are always appreciated.