Game 29: Five Lessons For The Week Ahead

People, the malls are insane today. I lasted about 45 minutes among the horde of elbowing shoppers before retreating home empty handed.

You win this time, Eaton Centre! But I shall try again next week! (Except you, H&M. You are a freakish vortex of teenage commotion and I won’t try you again.)

A few very late and very random thoughts about last night's 3-1 win over Montreal:

Now, look. I don't make excuses when the Leafs sleep-skate or bumble their way through abysmal first periods. So I'm not inclined to justify the Habs' sloppy, groggy performance.

After a tough game against Detroit on Friday, did the visitors look ready for a nap instead of a scrap? Yes. Was Alex Auld the goaltending equivalent of Mr. T to Carey Price's Robert De Niro? Sure.

But you know what? I don't care. I don't pity the fools.

The Leafs have encountered an endless parade of red-hot goalies all season long. They have faced many teams that were ready to rumble. So let's chalk up last night's anomaly to an inexplicable balancing-out mechanism in the universe and leave it at that.

The good news: Toronto beat Boston, Washington and Montreal over the past week. The bad news: Despite earning 6 of 10 points against top Eastern teams, the Leafs remain 9 points out of a playoff spot.

In short: Even a stretch of .600 hockey did not change the relative standings.

But let's just focus on the good news on this rainy Sunday afternoon. Let's just seize upon the positives as the Leafs embark on their first Western Canada road trip of the season with upcoming games against Edmonton, Calgary and Vancouver.

Here now, Five Lessons Learned From The Past Week For The Week Ahead (From The Broken Record Collection):

1. SHOOT, D-MEN, SHOOT

I won't lie to you: At 10:35 of the first period last night, when a streaking Tomas Kaberle took a nice pass from Fredrik Sjostrom and fired a low, hard shot past a comatose Auld, I nearly tumbled out of my seat.

What? Kaberle shot the puck? He didn't slam on the brakes and attempt a doomed give-and-go with Sjostrom? He didn't attempt a blind drop pass from the slot?

It was a good reminder to all backend corps: Shoot!

It was Kaberle's first goal of the season. Against Boston a week earlier, Carl Gunnarsson picked up his first. If the Leafs are to succeed with this roster, they need more offensive production from the blueline.

2. START WITH ANGER TO AVOID ENDING WITH SADNESS

I still don't understand what happened last night between Clarke MacArthur and Jaroslav Spacek. That was weird.

I gather they were roommates in Buffalo at one point. So maybe Spacek was really messy or really loud or really annoying. Maybe he made fun of MacArthur’s hair in the morning. I don't know.

But in the first, after a harmless looking collision, MacArthur morphed into a madman. He threw off his gloves and chased down his old teammate the way a hungry lion chases down an injured gazelle.

Then he rained blows down on Spacek, as if a voice in his head was shouting: Clarke! This is the guy who threw waffles at everyone! Beat him! Beat him senseless! Beat him for those waffles!

The lesson? The Leafs fare considerably better when pugnacity, testosterone, truculence and belligerence are not afterthoughts after it's already too late.

3. STOP WORRYING ABOUT SCORING THE FIRST GOAL

This is counterintuitive, especially considering the Leafs record when scoring first compared to not scoring first.

But I've changed my mind.

Every team in the NHL has a 50 per cent chance of scoring first. So if you invest too much psychological energy into scoring first and you don't, you end up creating an entirely unnecessary mental deficit.

Hey, Leafs! Yes, it would be great if you scored first every game. But you didn't score first against Boston or Washington and you won.

The lesson: Play lethally hard for 60 minutes and the first goal will rarely kill you.

4. RELAX, KESSEL, RELAX

Before the game against Philadelphia, the cameras caught Phil Kessel sitting in the room and looking rather morose. He was slumped over in deep thought. He was tugging at his hair with the acute frustration of an atheist in the Bible belt.

It was hard not to feel sorry for the guy.

But here's my theory after 29 games: He doesn't thrive under pressure. He doesn't suck up adversarial dirt and spit out diamonds. When the going gets tough, when fingers are pointed in his direction, Kessel simply stops skating and shooting.

He vanishes into his own personal hell.

Hockey players are no different than the rest of us. Some need a kick in the pants to succeed. Some need to be praised and encouraged and mollycoddled even when things aren't going great.

Kessel, I suspect, belongs to the latter group.

So here's a crazy idea: Let's stop analyzing The Trade. It's over. It is what it is. Let's stop thinking about him as a superstar saviour who will single-handedly win games for us.

Some nights, maybe he will. But most nights, probably he won't.

Let's just lower our expectations and let this guy relax long enough to score as he was at the start of the season.

I know this sounds like I'm letting him off the hook. But the truth is, Phil Kessel is the only sniper on this team. And he's a sniper without a reliable set-up man.

Me, I'm hereby cutting him some slack.

5. KEEP COLBY ARMSTRONG OUT OF HARM'S WAY

The Leafs are a completely different team when Armstrong is in the line-up. Is this a coincidence? I have no idea.

But just in case it's not, I shall conclude this post with a heartfelt plea to the training staff: Keep this guy healthy. Please.

Pump him full of Cold FX in the mornings. Don't let him walk across wet floors unsupervised. Test every joint and bone in his body 12 times a day. For crying out loud, store him in a cryogenic chamber between games and thaw him out two hours before the puck drops.

Go West, you magnificent Leaf bastards. Go West and win the next three games.

PHOTO: TARA WALTON/TORONTO STAR

Game Day: Beware the Flying Waffles

In 1988, after the Leafs were demolished 8-0 by Detroit in a playoff game, fans inside Maple Leaf Gardens hurled pucks, hats, cups, trash, and even a few jerseys on the ice.

"The way they acted, it looked like they were throwing in the towel," said a rattled Todd Gill at the time. "You get Coke splattered in your face and you get change rung off your head – from your own fans!"

At least the 1988 Leafs didn't have to worry about getting nailed with airborne breakfast entrées. After Thursday's woeful loss to Philadelphia, someone in the stands decided to leggo his eggo in the general vicinity of the 2010 Leafs.

"Who brings waffles to a hockey game?" wondered Colby Armstrong the next day. "Had we won the game, was he going home with soggy waffles? I don't know. I don't appreciate it, really, a guy throwing waffles at me as I'm skating by. I don't know if the guy was aiming for me or whatever, but who knows? The guy brought waffles. I don't know what it means. I don't know what this all means."

Colby, here's what this all means: Leafs Nation is starved for success and fed up with failure. Patience is stretched like cotton candy. Frustrations are mounting like a stack of buttermilk pancakes.

So heading into tonight's game against Montreal, make no mistake: If the Leafs underperform for a third consecutive game, they may find themselves on the receiving end of more hostility and, by extension, more edible projectiles.

Now, obviously, it's never wise to throw anything on the ice. It creates treacherous conditions for players, officials, coaches and other fans. If you're caught chucking foodstuff, you will be ejected. Depending on the severity of the incident, you could also face prosecution, which is not a conversation you want to have with a future employer.

"Have you ever been charged with a crime?"

"Absolutely not. Well, yes. Just once. It was 2010. The Leafs were losing 9-1. They were 0-6 on the power play. They missed the net 143 times in the first. I couldn't take it any more. So I dropped Tomas Kaberle with a candy apple."

Boys, come out flying tonight and you won't have to worry about ducking a bagel with cream cheese. But come out stale and flat and it could get downright messy out there.

That said, I have just obtained a list of every food item that can purchased inside the ACC tonight. I have done this for one reason: I do not want to live in a world where a hockey player on my favourite team ends up missing a few games because of a vegetable stirfry mishap.

Leafs? Win! Please! Just win! But if you lose, and you lose ugly, I have spent a few hours this afternoon calculating incoming threats based on primary vending area, price and aerodynamics.

Here now, The 20 Most Dangerous Concession Stand Threats Inside The ACC:

1. Reuben Footlong ($9.75): "12 inches of big hurt."

2. Platinum Chicken Wrap ($8.95) "A long-range missile."

3. Beef Dip Panini ($8.95) "Wet, hot and capable of reaching terrifying speeds."

4. Smirnoff Ice Cooler ($6.95) "Stealth and lethal."

5. M&M Pretzel ($4.85) "Boomeranging salt abrasions."

6. Evian 500 ML ($3.95) "Unsatisfying but deadly."

7. Snickers King Size ($3.75) "Packed with peanut shrapnel."

8. Wally’s Giant Cookie ($6.50) "Deceptive weapon looks like a puck."

9. 2 Chicken Souvlaki Sticks ($6.65) "Capable of impaling."

10. Tallboy Can ($9.25) "The bunker buster of beers."

11. Caramel/Fudge Drumstick ($4.75) "Deliciously pointy."

12. Jumbo Pickles ($3.32) "The stink never leaves a victim.”

13. XL Hot Smoothee ($2.11) "There is no escape from the splatter.”

14. Pizza Dog ($6.25) "A nefarious hybrid."

15. Skittles ($5.75) "Capable of taking out an entire bench."

16. Pulled Pork Sliders ($10.75) "Greasy mayhem."

17. Burrito ($9.25) "A short-range torpedo."

18. Pizza Pizza Chicken Hot Sauces ($1.00) "May cause blindness."

19. Fresh-Cut Curly-Que Fries ($4.38) "Unpredictable flight patterns."

20. Itzakadoozie ($3.75) "There are no words."

LEAFS NATION: FURIOUS, ARMED AND DANGEROUS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MAIN PHOTO: PHIL COALE/ASSOCIATED PRESS

Game 28: Game? What game?

The following NHL game review was calibrated to match the focus, clarity, coherence and urgency of the Toronto Maple Leafs this evening...

 

Hello. How are you? I am fine. Thank you. How are you?

I think there's a mouse in my kitchen. I haven't seen him yet. But there was a scratching sound. The cats were acting strange. You're right. It could be a girl mouse. I shouldn't have typed "him."

I just stubbed my toe. I think it's bleeding.

It's so cold. Freezing! Or maybe it's not. Maybe I'm just complaining. I don't know. It seemed cold a few minutes ago when I tossed a pillow on my deck, lay down without my coat or shoes and just stared up into the dark skies.

Do you think we're alone in the universe? Or somewhere out there, on another planet, in another galaxy, are there other sports fans who are now staring into the dark skies and thinking about the universe and wondering why?

It was nice to see Walter Gretzky tonight.

Did I ever tell you about the time I was dispatched to the airport to track down Team Canada?

It was February 1998. Our hockey guys had just imploded in Nagano. No medals! I was working the evening shift on The Star's city desk and my assignment editor said: "Go to the airport and get us a story on disappointment."

"What?" I said.

"Just do it," she replied.

Angelina Jolie's new movie with Johnny Depp does not sound promising. It's weird. I mean, on paper, you would think this would work. It should have worked.

Anyway, about an hour later I'm running around Pearson, begging anybody with a badge to help me find Team Canada. Please. Help me. I'm lost. Where should I go?

It seemed hopeless.

Then, finally, a guy with a mop, a lazy eye and a crisp blue uniform overhears one of my frantic conversations. And he does one these: “Pssst. Hey, Bub. C’mere. I’ll tell you where to go.”

A few minutes later – boom! – I'm face-to-face(s) with some of Canada's best hockey players at the time, including Al MacInnis, Rod Brind'Amour, Ray Bourque, Martin Brodeur and Chris Pronger. (Why does that last name sound familiar this evening? Why?)

I recall trying to get a quick interview with Wayne Gretzky as he was fumbling with his suitcase near a limo. Janet was there. But he was like: "Not now, not now. Not now. Not now, not now."

Seriously, that's all he said. It was like I was trying to interview the Rain Man.

But that Walter, what a prince!

He did an interview and introduced me to a few other people. Experience counts, I guess. Maturity is a virtue. I met my deadline that night.

I also remember Rob Blake saying: "We tried but it didn't work out the way we wanted it to. It's disappointing."

I was watching a little TV earlier tonight. Not sure what it was. There were some guys skating around in circles and using sticks to direct a small black piece of rubber toward a net. Well, actually, it looked like they were trying to miss the net.

Not sure. Not now.

There were also several shots of the crowd. Everybody in that building was fidgety and frowning and agitated. There was booing and heckling. It all seemed so desperate and wrong.

Yes, for sure, my toe is bleeding.

I lost my camera this week. Nikon D40x. Gone! I loved that damn camera.

When you think about it, really think about it, pictures are bizarre.

A moment in time captured for eternity? What if you're not smiling? What if your eyes are closed?

What if you miss your chance to shine?

Here's an article about rodent gender.

Goodnight.

 

 

PHOTO: DOES IT EVEN MATTER AT THIS POINT?

Game 27: Lost in Translation

If you asked the Leafs to help move a grand piano, I suspect their first impulse would be to push it with their eyelids. This team does not do anything the easy way.

Case in point: Tonight's loss to Pittsburgh.

I don't know what the official game plan was going into the game. But I'm willing to bet good money it was not the following:

1. Start the game with zero energy.
2. Get outshot 13-4 in the first.
3. Casually sweep at the puck instead of cover Sidney Crosby when he's buzzing around the net.
4. Get outshot 11-6 in the second.
5. Take not one but two penalties for "too many men on the ice."
6. Give up a two-on-nothing while on the power play.
7. Make a few horrific line changes.
8. Surrender three goals in 3 minutes and 8 seconds in the second.
9. Lull the Penguins into believing the game is over and their winning streak will continue.
10. Then... attempt another epic comeback in the third!

The nutty thing is it really looked like the Leafs might pull off No. 10. Alas, after thrilling come-from-behind victories against Boston and Washington, it was not to be and a 4-0 Penguin lead crystallized as a 5-2 Penguin win.

About an hour before tonight's game started, one of my 4-year-old daughters showed me a Christmas card she made.

It was emblazoned with orange stars and blue fish and a zigzag pattern of ribbons.

"Do you want me to read it to you?" she asked sweetly. "It has a special message!"

"Sure!" I said, clapping and leaning forward.

"It says, 'Santa is coming to our house soon,'" she said, enunciating carefully while dragging her finger across the inside. "And then it says, 'In gym class, we wear our running shoes.' And then this last part says, 'We wear our boots in the snow.'"

"What a great card!" I said. "I love it!"

"It's for you!" she said, handing it to me and beaming.

I thanked her and opened it. Sure enough, the "special message" scrawled inside actually read: "ROOOROOOROROOOROORRROOO."

In a way, tonight's game was like her card.

Somehow, best Leaf intentions were lost in translation. Somehow, the team couldn't spell the words they wanted until it was too late.

So for the first two periods, they were forced to read a different special message from what the rest of us could plainly see. And just like that, every ounce of pre-game excitement evaporated and our expressions began to mirror those of Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in the photo atop this post.

Instead of passing or skating or shooting, we ended up with a whole lot of ROOOROOOROROOOROORRROOO. Instead of mental toughness, it was muddled-headed gaffes and more ROOOROOOROROOOROORRROOO.

I mean, one penalty for "too many men on the ice" may have a logical explanation; two of them in one game and we are clearly dealing with a failure to communicate. Holding Crosby to two shots is usually great news. But when he scores on both of those shots, well, punch me in the giblets and ROOOROOOROROOOROORRROOO.

But let’s give this young Leafs team credit for refusing to wave a white flag. More important, let's hope they come up with an easier game plan for Philadelphia tomorrow.

Game Day: Sidney Crosby is a terrorist

 

We're about five hours away from The Big Game.

Mind you, since the Leafs remain 9 points out of a playoff spot, every game is big. But this one is super-sized. It's gigantic. It has its own area code. It beeps in reverse.

Pittsburgh, riding a 10-game winning streak, is perched atop the East with 40 points. Yes, they may have the most ridiculous logo in the NHL. But make no mistake: These Penguins are now soaring like eagles.

And why is this team annihilating the opposition? Simple. It's because Sidney Crosby is a terrorist. He is now blowing stuff up around the net. He is attacking goalies with his dirty-bomb of a shot. He is terrorizing defencemen with his enriched-plutonium speed and his improvised-explosive playmaking.

I didn't have time to make my own chart today. So I had to steal this one on the left from the Department of Homeland Security.

Now look at the various threat levels in this advisory system. But when reading the chart, replace the word "Terrorist" with the words "Sidney Crosby Scoring."

For example, the only time we are safely positioned at "LOW: Low Risk of Sidney Crosby Scoring Attacks" is when it's 4 a.m. and he's asleep in his Batman pajamas.

During breakfast, the threat level moves to GUARDED: General Risk of Sidney Crosby Scoring Attacks. You never know, right? He may suddenly slam down his bowl of Frosted Flakes and decide to score on you.

By afternoon, on game days, we creep up to ELEVATED: Signifcant Risk of Sidney Crosby Scoring Attacks. He is in the rink. He is stroking the lapels of his expensive Italian suit. He is grinning and plotting. He is fantasizing about scoring on you.

Then just before the puck drops, holy hell, run for cover! The threat level has now switched to HIGH: High Risk of Sidney Crosby Scoring Attacks! He's not blinking normally! He's banging his stick on the ice! He's so, so ready to score on you!

Having to face a HIGH alert is frightening enough. Unfortunately for the Leafs, we are now at SEVERE: Severe Risk of Sidney Crosby Scoring Attacks.

Crosby has 24 goals and 24 assists this season. He has racked up points in 16 straight games, including 18 goals. And if all of this wasn't sufficiently horrifying, take a look at his career totals against our beloved Toronto Maple Leafs:

Games: 21 
Goals: 15 
Assists: 18 
Points: 33
PPG: 5
GWG: 2

Or to translate these numbers into a picture:

So, please, gather all of your superstitious objects. Put on your magical amulets and must-win underwear. Keep your lucky pet on the couch this evening. Because the Leafs will need every bit of good karma we can direct into the Consol Energy Center.

As for containing the terrorist, well, the best advice comes from Sidney Crosby himself.

"If you were a rival team's coach," asked a reader of AskMen.com three years ago, "How would you try to stop Sidney Crosby?"

Sid the Kid's answer: "For any player, it's tough when they come at you physically and take space away. If you give any good player time, they're going to try to take advantage of that time. I would say for a team to be physical is the best way."

You know who plays physical and takes away space? Colby Armstrong. You know what the Leafs' record is with Armstrong in the line-up? It's 7-2-1. You know who understands Sidney Crosby more than any other player in the visitor's dressing room? Colby Armstrong.

Call me crazy but I have a good feeling about tonight. The Leafs play well in Pittsburgh. The Pens' winning streak has to end at some point, right? Right? So if our magnificent Leaf bastards arrive with the determination and grit and never-say-die attitude we've witnessed over the past two games, there should be no threat they can't overcome.

UPDATE: 3:30 P.M.: Okay, maybe we have to remove the LOW threat level completely. This picture just arrived in my inbox from a source who must remain anonymous:

 

***

And from a hockey bed to a non-hockey bed...

It's December 8, 2010. Hard to believe but John Lennon was killed 30 years ago today. Since Colby Armstrong wears No. 9, I leave you with this video of a great song from a great man:

 

MAIN PHOTO: DON HEUPEL/ASSOCIATED PRESS

Game 26: Never Surrender

 

If the Leafs continue to win as they did tonight, I'll be divorced before 2011.

Here are the words and sounds that came hurtling out of my mouth starting at 4:16 of the third when those magnificent Leaf bastards embarked upon their biggest comeback of the season: "GRABBO!!! YEAAHHH!!!" "TIMMY BRENT!!! BOOYAAAH!!!" "MACARTHUR!!! EEEEE—!!!" (I momentarily lost my voice on that last one.)

"What the hell is going on down there?" asked my wife, suddenly appearing on the basement steps like a furious apparition. "You're going to wake up the children!"

"Woman, I don't care!" I screamed, kicking over an ottoman and scaring the cats. "The Leafs tied it up in the third! They were losing 4-1 to Washington! FOUR-TO-ONE! We're going to overtime, baby! Come down here and high-five me!"

She left me hanging. But, whatever!

Then in the shootout, oh sweet mouthful of jujubes I nearly choked on, more howling and more wreckage and more unadulterated joy.

Jonas Gustavsson goosed Alex Ovechkin, Mathieu Perreault and Alexander Semin. He made them look like mannequins on skates. Meanwhile, Mikhail Grabovski scored on a spin-a-rama move so shockingly dazzling I went hoarse again while upending the coffee table and nearly driving my heels through the hardwood floors.

That was it. An improbable, come-from-behind 5-4 victory in Washington. A second consecutive win. The first road triumph in 9 games. And yet another reason to believe in this team despite everything we have endured since October.

People, I have nothing more to say right now. Nothing.

Well, just this: It would've been so easy for this team to quit. But they did not. It would've been so easy for this team to exhale loudly and shake their fists at the cosmos after trading scoring chances and territorial play with the Caps for two periods and then looking up at the scoreboard to see they were down by three.

But picking up where they left off on Saturday, the Leafs just kept plugging away. They refused to surrender. And now, well, now I have a bruise on my forearm. My throat feels like it's coated with sandpaper.  And my glasses may be permanently scratched after I chucked them across the room with a happiness I can't adequately explain.

Bring on Pittsburgh and buckle-up. This ride ain't over yet.

GAME PHOTOS: REUTERS

Game Day: Lost on the road

To say the Leafs have a tough week ahead is to engage in understatement.

If Paris Hilton memorized all of the world capitals, that would be "tough." If NDP leaders were to abduct Don Cherry at gunpoint and brainwash him into joining the party, that would be "tough."

What the Leafs face over the next 6 nights – four games against the Top 4 teams in the East – is a herculean challenge of the first order. And, realistically, this season hangs in the balance.

Tonight, it's Washington and Alexander Ovechkin. Wednesday: Pittsburgh and Sidney Crosby. Thursday, the Flyers storm into the ACC. And 48 hours after they charter out, Montreal arrives.

These four teams have a combined 150 points.

Even more troubling for Leaf fans: Five of the next seven games are on the road.

Last season, a disaster by any reasonable account, the team's road record was 12-21-8. This season they are 2-7-1, which projects into an 8-29-4 finish. (Incidentally, 29 is the franchise record for most road losses in a season and it happened three times: 1987-1988, 1983-1984, 1972-1973.)

After winning their first two road games (October 13 in Pittsburgh, October 15 against the Rangers), the Leafs have plummeted into a 0-7-1 freefall.

Are they cutting costs by staying in rowdy youth hostels and not getting enough sleep? Are enemy trainers secretly lacing Leaf water bottles with performance-debilitating drugs?

I have no idea.

Last season, the longest losing streak on the road was five games, while the longest winless stretch reached seven. So if the Leafs lose tonight, in regulation or overtime, they will match a futility record that dates back to 1996-1997. (That season, the team suffered through both 9-game losing and winless streaks.)

Somehow, the team's overall problems in 2010 – goal scoring and special teams – are magnified on the road like bacteria under an electronc microscope. Whatever they do poorly at home they do dreadfully on the road.

Sweet Moses, they have managed to score only 16 goals as visitors – worst in the NHL by a wide margin. They have three power play goals on the road, which translates into a second-worst ranking behind only Dallas. (And two of those goals, remember, occurred in the first two games.)

Meanwhile, they've surrendered 12 power play goals on the road, which is fifth worst in the league. So over the past 8 road games, the Leafs have scored 1 power play goal in 35 chances while generously allowing the opposition to score 11 times on their 26 chances.

You don't need a slide ruler and tin foil hat to know these numbers are apocalyptic. If the Leafs don't turn things around on the road, their home record will warp and become moot.

So what can be done? This is me shrugging. But after analyzing the team's road games, here are 5 humble suggestions:

1. Putting grit in the spotlight. A crazy suggestion: Why not double-shift Colby Armstrong in the first period of every road game? As we witnessed Saturday at home, this guy looks like a choirboy but he has the disposition of a Rottweiler. He sets the tone. He also does something no other Leaf seems capable of doing: Getting under the skin of opposition players and throwing them off their games.

2. Aggression and puck pursuit. True, the Leafs have played five more games at home so far. But this alone does not mathematically account for the following discrepancies: They have stolen the puck 54 times on the road compared to 130 times at home. They have blocked 136 shots on the road compared to 256 shots at home. Without hunger and sacrifice there can be no road glory in the new NHL.

3. A meaner, angrier penalty kill. The Leafs have coughed up power play goals in every road game over this abysmal 0-7-1 streak. Why? Because they give up the blue line as if it's medicine and their penalty killers are Mother Teresa. They set up a box that collapses after two crisp opposition passes. The Leafs need to disrupt passing lanes without getting caught out of position. They need to chip it out without fantasizing about shorthanded goals. They need to scowl instead of sigh. They need to rub-out attackers along the boards. They need to clear-cut the crease in front of their goaltender. They need to make life miserable for the opposition.

4. Shoot and screen on the power play. Ron Wilson's move to put Kris Versteeg on the blue line has worked at home. But it has not worked on the road because Versteeg is not getting any quality shots and, even if he does, there is never anybody in front of the net to create traffic.

5. Hit anything that moves. The Leafs have doled out 108 fewer body checks on the road than at home. This is suicide. When powerhouse teams like Washington and Pittsburgh know they can pleasure skate for 60 minutes in their own rink, the results tend to be ugly.

PHOTO: MIKE BLAKE/REUTERS

Game 25: Someone please call Morpheus

 

I won't lie to you. I haven't been this confused since watching The Matrix.

Is reality an ugly 5-0 loss to Edmonton on Thursday? Or is reality tonight's thrilling 3-2 victory against Boston? Is reality before this game or after?

An exchange from the movie:

        Neo: "Why do my eyes hurt?"
        Morpheus: "You've never used them before."

Resilience. Character. Heart.

This is what our eyes, stinging with improbable joy, witnessed tonight as the Leafs made like Keanu Reeves in that epic fight scene with Agent Smith.

You think we're dead? Well, then – dropkick to the chest – it's time for Kris Versteeg to tie the game with 42 seconds left in the third. You think Tim Thomas is unbeatable? Well, then – a flurry of uppercuts to the head – it's time for Nazem Kadri and Phil Kessel to score in a shootout.

I know, I know. Really. I know.

This is just one win. We should not get carried away after one win and start twirling around on our reality-bending fight sticks.

But here's the thing: This one win felt momentous in a way one wins rarely do. It felt like the kind of game a young team cites later in the season as, "The Turning Point." It felt like there still may be time for the Leafs and, by extension, for us.

It was as if God himself suddenly peered into the ACC and said: "Enough! I will give the Leafs a 6-on-4 advantage in the dying seconds! I will use a mysterious force to propel Thomas backwards into his own net on the winning Kessel shot! I will stoke a fire in Colby Armstrong's belly! I will do whatever it takes to give these poor bastards a victory they so justly deserve after so much heartache and bad luck!"

Thomas Carlyle once wrote: "Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with." There were a lot of diamond dust grins on that Leafs bench tonight.

And who could blame them?

Boston had never lost a game this season after scoring first – as they did tonight. Zdeno Chara, one of the few people on this planet who can clean his eaves without a ladder, towered next to Kessel every shift. Thomas, the best goaltender in the NHL, made at least six saves that prompted me to stand and yell: "Are you (bleep) kidding me?"

No matter.

Against these ridiculous odds, against all conventional wisdom, the Leafs refused to sit through another lesson in the school of hard knocks. So they slammed down their textbooks, escaped through a fire exit and fled into a parallel universe in their black trench coats.

Now we're all standing outside in the disorienting, Matrix-like rain and wondering: What comes next?

BOTTOM PHOTO: RICK EGLINTON/TORONTO STAR

Game 24: I could see my body drifting toward a bright light

During tonight's gruesome 5-0 loss to Edmonton, my extremities went numb.

I could not feel my fingers. My breathing became shallow. My eyes glazed over like two Krispy Kreme doughnuts on a tray of broken dreams in a town called Despair.

Then sitting in the darkness, in the ethereal glow of Leafs TV, an out-of-body experience: I could see myself leaving my chair and hurtling towards a light.

"Come on over," said Bill Barilko. "Don't be afraid."

"It's better here," said Conn Smythe. "You'll never see them get shutout again. Never."

Lord have mercy.

People, the Toronto Maple Leafs are trying to kill us. There can be no other explanation. They are murdering us with their botched scoring chances. They are suffocating us with their anemic attack. They are choking us with their utterly wretched, confounding, pitiful play.

The Oil was playing its third game in four nights but it was the Leafs that had no gas. No, that's not fair. They had gas. But as per usual, it was not high-octane. You know something? It's not even a liquid! No, the gas in the Leafs' tank at this moment in time is completely inert.

Jonas Gustavsson – one of the few reasons for hope in recent days – let in two goals that Andrea Bocelli could have stopped. I mean, I've heard of the five hole. But until tonight, I never realized there were also six and seven holes.

Anyway, after this painfully familiar beginning, the Leafs slipped into a painfully familiar state of suspended animation in which every mental process – confidence, determination, drive – vanishes without a trace and the other guys are made to look spectacular.

That's it, really. That's the Leaf season thus far: They are killing their fans and making every other team in the NHL look like a collection of superstars.

Jordan Eberle hasn't scored since before Halloween? No worries, son! Come to Toronto and you'll get one. Edmonton enters the game with the worst PK in the league? Well, obviously, this can only mean they'll kill all five Leaf power plays as fans inside the pindrop-silent ACC pelt each other with popcorn to stay awake.

And let's not even get started on opposition goaltending.

Yes, Nikolai Khabibulin had a good game. But at this point, the enemy could strap phone books to Betty White's legs, catapult her into the crease and she'd stone this Leafs team.

Wow, just wow. A 5-0 pounding from Edmonton. A sixth shutout loss. And no sign that anything is going to get better anytime soon.

What can be done? Should the Leafs start shooting at their own net? That way, at least, they'll control the play and ensure the opposition never scores. Should they visit a hypnotist? A witch doctor? Should they just forget about hockey for a few months and start selling wooden trinkets down by the marina?

Goodnight, friends. I think I see that light again.

 

MAIN PHOTO: KEITH BEATY/TORONTO STAR

Game 23: If my heart had a face it would look like this

I once saw a three-legged puppy in Barcelona.

It was late in the evening and the sky was a bizarre shade of crimson. My wife and I strolled across La Rambla, eating macadamia nuts while discussing nihilism and world affairs. Or maybe we were giggling about Britney Spears. I can't recall.

Anyway, at the edge of the boulevard, there it was.

Mottled and dirty, wobbling on three legs, the street puppy looked lost and confused in the shadows. It was so young. And, yet, life was already hopeless.

"Poor little guy," said my wife, crouching down and offering the puppy food and water

"That's the saddest thing I have ever seen," I said.

And it was – until last night's overtime loss.

Giving up a goal with less than 10 seconds left in the third? Giving up a two-on-one in overtime for the winner? Giving Leaf fans yet another reason to stumble out of bed and start the day with a sigh.

On Monday, I was on my way to a meeting near the Eaton Centre when I paused for a minute to watch an artist paint a mermaid atop the sidewalk at Yonge and Dundas.

The guy standing next to me was wearing a Leafs jersey under his unzipped coat. This is a rare sight these days. So I pointed at his chest and said: "It's nice to see you haven't lost faith yet."

He glanced at me with dead eyes and replied, "I can't take much more of this."

You know, if that three-legged puppy could talk, it would've probably said the same thing. In a way, we Leaf fans are all three-legged puppies. We stumble into the shadows each season hoping for the best but, deep down, we are conditioned for the worst.

And I can't speak for anybody else but I'm getting sick of the divergent lectures.

Leaf fans need to stop supporting this team! Leaf fans need to start supporting this team! Leaf fans need to get fed up! Leaf fans need to be patient!

Patience? Really?

The Leafs haven't won the Stanley Cup in my lifetime. They haven't made the playoffs in my daughters' lifetimes. I'm scared to buy a new car just in case the Leafs never score another goddamn goal.

It took 20 years to build the Great Pyramid. It took 10 years to build the Suez Canal. It took 3 years to build the CN Tower. It took 4 years to build the Golden Gate Bridge.

All of this combined is less than 43 years, so please don't talk to me about patience or rebuilding.

I am a Leafs fan. I support this team because, like that three-legged puppy, this is my fate. But as Hoofheartz wisely noted in the comments recently: "I'd say I've earned every right to chastise, berate or boo them whenever the hell I want to."

Some random team stats after 23 games:

WINNING PERCENTAGE: .435 (fifth worst in NHL)
POWER PLAY ON THE ROAD: 6.7 PER CENT (fourth worst in NHL)
GOALS PER GAME AVERAGE: 2.22 (third worst in NHL)
GOALS SCORED IN FIRST PERIODS: 13 (second worst in NHL)
NUMBER OF TIMES SHUTOUT: 5 (worst in NHL)

And if the on-ice woes weren't confusing enough, now there are now reports of a possible corporate shakeup.  No wonder some fans are already on strike. No wonder the Leafs are now getting called "the biggest losers in professional sports."

Here at ALF B headquarters, we have not issued any ultimatums this season. But if this team does not storm out of the gates buzzing like a battalion of F-35 jets against Edmonton tomorrow night, if it does not fight for every inch of ice and skate with supersonic desperation, well, our right to chastise, berate and boo shall be taken to the next level.

I leave you with this recipe for lemon squares:

 Ingredients:

2 cups flour
1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
2 sticks butter
2 cups sugar
1 tablespoon flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 eggs, well beaten
1 heaping tablespoon grated lemon rind
1/4 cup lemon juice

Preparation:
Sift flour and powdered sugar together. Cut in butter until well blended. Press mixture over bottom of a 9 by 13 by 2-inch pan. Bake about 25 minutes at 300° until lightly browned. Combine remaining ingredients and spread on top of the baked crust. Bake at 350° for 25 to 30 minutes. Sprinkle with powdered sugar.
Makes about 12 servings. 

 PHOTO: RENE JOHNSTON/TORONTO STAR