The CBC has made some seriously questionable moves in the past few years in order to try to maintain its relevance and budget in a quickly evolving media world. Some examples include the slashing of thousands of jobs, allowing the iconic Hockey Night in Canada theme song to be bought by another station, hiding their blatant knowledge of Ghomeshi's workplace harassment...and trying to revamp Hockey Night in Canada for a new, younger audience.
The revamp of HNIC consisted of a change of music, stage, personalities and technology, it was a full overhaul from the low-key tradition of the show which boasted a crazy old man in flamboyant suits yelling for 15 minutes about icing rules and anti-Russian sentiments. The old Hockey Hotstove was so boring it would cause comatose patients to wake up just to change the channel. Unfortunately, the all-new was just that, all new. It was like taking an 80 year old woman and putting her in hot pants and heels trying to make her sing Nikki Minaj and Beyoncé. It's fine to update the classic things, but let's not overdo it. Visually, the revamp was as garish as a cougar with a neon sign. One of their main new show pieces was Canadian mini-celebrity George Strombolopolous (who we will henceforth call Strombo for obvious reasons). Strombo was well-known to most Canadians, especially those in the 25-45 age range, the CBC new target audience.
Strombo started out on Canadian TV as a MuchMusic VJ; for those of you under 25 a VJ was a host on a music channel who talked about music and music videos...before YouTube made this possible for everyone to do. He was handsome and knowledgeable, he hosted the Punk Show and seemed to have a cool edgy vibe that resonated with teens and young adults. He was given his own radio show, another dead media form, but "The Strombo Show" prospered; showing he was more than a pretty Greek face and had charisma and charm as well as well-rounded knowledge of the Canadian, American and international music scenes. He gained notoriety for this interviewing skills, reputable members of the music scene would actually seek out his show as he was intelligent and knowledgeable. This lead to him being showcased back on television on 'The Hour", a late night talk show. This was not a Leno or Letterman type show, it played more to his interviewing skills and was geared more towards his 'hip' vibe, with his gelled hair and skinny jeans, he was still aimed at the younger viewers in an attempt to get them interested in the world around them. This allowed Strombo to extend his influence beyond the music scene and into pop culture, politics, current events etc. His continued success on "The Hour" caused him to be brought south of the border to CNN, where they gave him a similar type of show, thinking that Americans would take to his hip youthful style that CNN vets like Larry King weren't as steeped in. Unfortunately, although his show was (in my opinion) very well done and very intelligent, Americans just did not welcome the tight-trousered canuck into their hearts. His stint on CNN ended after one year's brief run and he came back to Canada.
The CBC welcomed him back and excitedly offered him the hosting job of the iconic and beloved, but rating slumped HNIC. A hip new host was believed to be exactly what was needed to get Canadians back on CBC for Saturday nights and through the far too long playoff season.
They were so wrong.
Strombo is a media man, he is intelligent, he is witty and charismatic. He is NOT a hockey guy. He has never played even semi-pro, he has never coached, he has not spent time as a sportscaster, sports journalist or, judging from his conversations, really watched many games. He is also a terrible actor (see his comedy hosting on Just For Laughs). He cannot pretend to be a hockey guy convincingly, often coming off as well-suited for a hockey conversation as Donald Trump would be for a talk on foreign policy. If there is one thing Canadians take seriously, it's hockey. The average Canadian hockey fan could write you an essay on most topics without so much as glancing at Google. They know a true fan when they see one, and they can spot a fish out of water. Strombo just never fit in. As boring as the Hotstove was, those guys knew their hockey and provided insight, analysis and ideas that fans who are loyal enough to not change channels during intermissions look for. It's like any show that changes hosts- you can't just bring in the new guy because your network brass think he fits the target audience and will learn on the job. Sports fans are fiercely loyal, sometimes to a fault. We've proven that the age and hipster wardrobe are of no concern to us judging by the uproar that occurred when Don Cherry was at risk of not being renewed. In 2016, with no Canadian teams to justify watching the playoff coverage, people all over Canada couldn't stand the 'new' style enough to watch, and the rating dropped. It was a clear sign that something more was needed.
Oh Strombo, he tried, it didn't work. It's not his fault, but it's best that he hike up his absurdly tight jeans and stick to music. Ditch the poor man's Vegas-style set they have going, get rid of no nothings Kypreos and Healy who bring about as much insight as a pineapple with brain damage, and give us back Ron McLean. Like it should have been from the start. There's nothing to be ashamed of Strombo- I'm sure Dennis Miller would agree- sportscasting just isn't for everyone.
So, good luck Strombo, wherever you end up. But seriously, take Glenn Healy with you...
White Girl Blogging
Tuesday 21 June 2016
Friday 17 June 2016
PizzaHutline Bling
They say that there are lot of things that are hard to quit...smoking, drinking, drugs, gambling, biting your nails, licking your coworkers ear when they aren't looking etc.
For me, personally, the hardest thing I've ever tried to quit is bad food. Candy, fast food, greasy, delicious, cheap, easy, tasty......I'm already drooling. After struggling for a long time on how to manage the intake of this delicious but totally bad for you type of food, it finally came to me...quitting junk food is like giving up on your asshole of an ex boyfriend.
He's bad for you....and you know he's bad for you. You want him to be good, but he just can't be, it's not in his nature. He smells good, he feels amazing and you have a history together but he makes you feel like shit, you hate yourself every time you hook up with him and you've sworn to delete his number (967-11-11) a thousand times.
It's always the same story; you find yourself at home for the evening with no (dinner) plans...you could go out and make the effort to try something new, meet a new meal, one who is good for you and makes you feel good about yourself. But that takes effort. Going out, making sure you have everything you need, risking disappointment and putting yourself (via tastebuds) out there.
Then HE pops into your mind. You don't want to think about him...but you know he'll come if you call. He's always available...he's the cheap, easy option, but you remember what he's done to you in the past. You look down at your body and think 'No...I won't let him hurt me again'. You go online thinking about finding other meals...but it's all so much effort and thought and time. It's getting late and you just can't get HIM out of your head.
You make the foodie call.
"I'll just have a taste this one time" you tell yourself. It's not true, it never happens that way. You're simply aching with anticipation as you wait for him to get there. You feel guilty but excited, like a kid who has told a lie and is waiting to see if his teacher believes it.
The knock at the door. You don't want to run to the door because you can't let him know how anxiously you were awaiting his arrival. You can smell him before you even see him....and he smells intoxicating. You bring him inside and sit back down, casual but eager. You try to play it cool but within moments you become ravenous and simply can't contain yourself. The taste, the texture, the smell...you remember it all and it's all sooooo good.
And just like that, it's over. You feel tired, nauseated, a little bloated and greasy. You don't really remember any of what just happened because you were so lost in the moment you didn't really think about what you were doing. You look down at the remnants and mess made and you start regretting it...you had more than you wanted, it went too far again. You look at your body and feel ashamed. You let it get the better of you again, like it always has.
You clean up and get rid of any traces of what happened, desperate to forget what you just let yourself do. You promise yourself that this is the last time, that you're going to start anew tomorrow. But he knows. He knows you'll be back.
So to all my late night foodie callers...put the phone down, delete his number and try to meet a nice salad or a carb-friendly sandwich. Sure, they aren't the easy ones, but they'll treat you right and are the better long-term investment. You don't want to end up with an unwanted food baby.
For me, personally, the hardest thing I've ever tried to quit is bad food. Candy, fast food, greasy, delicious, cheap, easy, tasty......I'm already drooling. After struggling for a long time on how to manage the intake of this delicious but totally bad for you type of food, it finally came to me...quitting junk food is like giving up on your asshole of an ex boyfriend.
He's bad for you....and you know he's bad for you. You want him to be good, but he just can't be, it's not in his nature. He smells good, he feels amazing and you have a history together but he makes you feel like shit, you hate yourself every time you hook up with him and you've sworn to delete his number (967-11-11) a thousand times.
It's always the same story; you find yourself at home for the evening with no (dinner) plans...you could go out and make the effort to try something new, meet a new meal, one who is good for you and makes you feel good about yourself. But that takes effort. Going out, making sure you have everything you need, risking disappointment and putting yourself (via tastebuds) out there.
Then HE pops into your mind. You don't want to think about him...but you know he'll come if you call. He's always available...he's the cheap, easy option, but you remember what he's done to you in the past. You look down at your body and think 'No...I won't let him hurt me again'. You go online thinking about finding other meals...but it's all so much effort and thought and time. It's getting late and you just can't get HIM out of your head.
You make the foodie call.
"I'll just have a taste this one time" you tell yourself. It's not true, it never happens that way. You're simply aching with anticipation as you wait for him to get there. You feel guilty but excited, like a kid who has told a lie and is waiting to see if his teacher believes it.
The knock at the door. You don't want to run to the door because you can't let him know how anxiously you were awaiting his arrival. You can smell him before you even see him....and he smells intoxicating. You bring him inside and sit back down, casual but eager. You try to play it cool but within moments you become ravenous and simply can't contain yourself. The taste, the texture, the smell...you remember it all and it's all sooooo good.
And just like that, it's over. You feel tired, nauseated, a little bloated and greasy. You don't really remember any of what just happened because you were so lost in the moment you didn't really think about what you were doing. You look down at the remnants and mess made and you start regretting it...you had more than you wanted, it went too far again. You look at your body and feel ashamed. You let it get the better of you again, like it always has.
You clean up and get rid of any traces of what happened, desperate to forget what you just let yourself do. You promise yourself that this is the last time, that you're going to start anew tomorrow. But he knows. He knows you'll be back.
So to all my late night foodie callers...put the phone down, delete his number and try to meet a nice salad or a carb-friendly sandwich. Sure, they aren't the easy ones, but they'll treat you right and are the better long-term investment. You don't want to end up with an unwanted food baby.
Thursday 16 June 2016
Hockey Terms
Like all sports, hockey has its own rules, traditions, superstitions and language. If I were to walk up to a non-hockey fan and say "Man, did you see OV with the Gordie Howe hat trick last night? Too bad those blind zebras couldn't call an elbow if it hit them in the face".....the non-hockey fan may think I've just suffered some kind of breakdown in need of immediate mental assessment.
So, to help out our less veteran fans, here is a short compendium of some common and some odd terms used by hockey players, commentators and fans alike...a hock-tionary if you will (or if you won't, I don't judge):
Hat Trick- When one player scores three goals in one game. When this happens, all fans in attendance who are wearing hats celebrate by throwing their hats onto the ice. If you are wearing a hat and do not throw it...other fans are allowed to throw the rest of you into a toilet. Didn't want to lose your hat? Shouldn't have worn it!
Hat Trick- When one player scores three goals in one game. When this happens, all fans in attendance who are wearing hats celebrate by throwing their hats onto the ice. If you are wearing a hat and do not throw it...other fans are allowed to throw the rest of you into a toilet. Didn't want to lose your hat? Shouldn't have worn it!
Gordie Howe hat trick- when one player has a goal, an assist and a fight all in one game. This is named after the late, great Gordie Howe who could score and also turn your face into minced meat. This has become a rare feat these days as most scorers don't want to risk injury in a fight and most fighters couldn't score with a fist-full of cash in a brothel.
Wingers- these are the forwards who play predominantly on one side of the ice or the other. There are 3 forwards, one is a centreman, one plays on his left wing, the other on his right wing. This assures full ice coverage and benefits those players who are left and right-handed shots. The fact that it's referred to as 'wings' makes you think it would have made for a better signature move in the Mighty Ducks movies than that stupid Flying V....the Iceland team crushed that! Dammit Coach Bombay, you'll always be a failure in my eyes!
Wingers- these are the forwards who play predominantly on one side of the ice or the other. There are 3 forwards, one is a centreman, one plays on his left wing, the other on his right wing. This assures full ice coverage and benefits those players who are left and right-handed shots. The fact that it's referred to as 'wings' makes you think it would have made for a better signature move in the Mighty Ducks movies than that stupid Flying V....the Iceland team crushed that! Dammit Coach Bombay, you'll always be a failure in my eyes!
The Can Opener- My fondest memories of this was in the McCabe days with the Leafs, it made up for his redneck mo-hawk. This is when a player puts his stick between the legs of an opponent and twists it so as to trip him up. This is not allowed, it's a tripping penalty, but it's funny as hell to watch. The term can opener comes from the twist and flip motion, not, like a friend of mine once believed, because the player hides a metal instrument in their pants with which to hit the other team.
Sin Bin- an alternate term for the penalty box. This is where penalized players sit for their grown man's time out when they have been naughty or when the ref is a moron who calls stupid trips that were not trips (i.e. Holtby tripped over his own stick morons!!) There are many nicknames for the penalty box, my personal favourite being 'Wendel's House'
Hockey hair- really, just google it, it's magnificent. Popularized in the 80's and 90's, hockey players were notorious for having some of the best mullets of all-time. Jaromir Jagr was, and will always be, the reigning champ of best hockey hair of all-time, although the Gretzky and Lemieux heydays were quite glorious. While no longer really worn, sometimes you get some throwbacks in the playoffs to match the perennial playoff beards (an entirely different topic, see Joe Thornton 2016)
Goal Crease- This is the area around the goal, painted and the home of the weirdest and least understood creature in all of hockey, the goalie. This area is not allowed to be occupied by other players when attempting to score, only the goalie...and if you should cross into it, you should be prepared to receive a crosscheck to the spine with a goalie stick, or an opposing defenseman's fist in your jugular. Goalies are very territorial creatures, and if you mess with them, they may get very angry and scream at the ref...but then trip..and fall down...and take the ref down too...oh Cujo, you crazy bastard.
Offside- I'm not even going to try....seriously...
China Wall- nickname of Hall of Fame goalie Johnny Bower, so named as he was nearly impenetrable and a very resilient goalie. He played in the days when goalies did not wear masks, which you would think would explain his weathered face, however Johnny has looked 85 since he was 25 years old. Amongst the nicest human beings you will ever meet, some believe that a smile from Johnny Bower can bring puppies back to life.
Original Six- the first era of the NHL in which only 6 teams existed from 1942 until1967. While the NHL existed prior to 1942, teams were quite transitive and inconsistent, there were many moves and name changes of teams (i,e Toronto St.Pats became the Toronto Maple Leafs, the Ottawa Senators played and collapsed....as they should again). The teams were located in Toronto, Montreal, Chicago, New York, Boston and Detroit. As a Leafs fan, you tend to be able to respect these teams more than most as they come from an era in which hockey existed in its purest form...which is all we have ever won. Upon expansion in 1967, the Philadelphia Flyers (and others) entered the league and hockey was tainted forever....lookin at you Bobby Clark.
Puck Bunny- a less than favourable nickname for the female hockey fans who only like hockey for the players' looks. Also called 'puck f**ks', they only watch hockey from their backs and cannot spell Nordiques or Gretzky. If their jersey is longer than their skirt, their layer of makeup is thicker than the ice surface and they can only name you Lupul...she's a puck bunny. Like most bunnies, they're cute to look at but will hump anything and are fun to hit with a car.
Holding- hockey players look and act tough, but really they are all just big teddy bears and sometimes, in the middle of games, they just need to hug it out. This is only allowed on the benches and in the locker rooms where hug huddles or 'huggles' are often held just to assuage the sensitive emotions of the players. The fear is that they will not get any hockey played if they're allowed to hug too much. Just kidding, it's when you hold back another player from the puck...pretty simple really.
Miracle on Ice- in the 1980 Olympics, the underdog American team beat the superior USSR team. They didn't win gold, they won a game but they're American so they like to think this was the best hockey game ever. Two words: Henderson Scores. Suck it.
Grinder- not only a terrible show with Rob Lowe, also a hockey term. This refers to a player who plays with grit, he drives to the boards, he takes the body and works hard. He's not always going to be the highest scorer because often he's busy doing the key bits away from the puck that flashier players don't bother with...like getting into a fight (didn't wanna risk that movie star smile eh Modano?)
Icing- when a player shoots the puck across both the centre red line and the opposing team's goal line without anyone touching it in between. Used to get the puck as far out of the zone as possible in times of panic. My personal least favourite hockey term as whenever it happens, it makes me crave cupcakes and frankly, I'm beginning to look like one.
Maple Leaves- it's often asked why it's "Leafs" and not "Leaves" and other fans laugh at Leafs fans claiming we're stupid and cannot spell. One big theory of the name is that the Toronto Maple Leafs got their name from a regiment during WWI called the "Maple Leaf Regiment". In this case, the Maple Leaf would be a proper name and not a noun which thereby should not be pluralized as a noun but as a name. SO KISS MY LEAFSSSSSSSSSSS. (not like you get to criticize anyways Ottawa...you're the Senators but your logo is a centurion?!)
So now you know a few more terms from the wide world of hockey. I cannot guarantee that this will assist you in understanding everything about hockey, I've still only ever understood about 23% of anything Don Cherry has ever said.
Grinder- not only a terrible show with Rob Lowe, also a hockey term. This refers to a player who plays with grit, he drives to the boards, he takes the body and works hard. He's not always going to be the highest scorer because often he's busy doing the key bits away from the puck that flashier players don't bother with...like getting into a fight (didn't wanna risk that movie star smile eh Modano?)
Icing- when a player shoots the puck across both the centre red line and the opposing team's goal line without anyone touching it in between. Used to get the puck as far out of the zone as possible in times of panic. My personal least favourite hockey term as whenever it happens, it makes me crave cupcakes and frankly, I'm beginning to look like one.
Maple Leaves- it's often asked why it's "Leafs" and not "Leaves" and other fans laugh at Leafs fans claiming we're stupid and cannot spell. One big theory of the name is that the Toronto Maple Leafs got their name from a regiment during WWI called the "Maple Leaf Regiment". In this case, the Maple Leaf would be a proper name and not a noun which thereby should not be pluralized as a noun but as a name. SO KISS MY LEAFSSSSSSSSSSS. (not like you get to criticize anyways Ottawa...you're the Senators but your logo is a centurion?!)
So now you know a few more terms from the wide world of hockey. I cannot guarantee that this will assist you in understanding everything about hockey, I've still only ever understood about 23% of anything Don Cherry has ever said.
Wednesday 8 June 2016
The Evolution of a Leafs fan
Ladies and gentlemen your Toronto Maple Leafs....
If you read that in Andy Frost's voice, you are probably a Leafs fan.
The Leafs, one of the NHL's oldest and most storied franchises. A team with a history, a culture, a huge fan base and a stupid amount of money. I first became a fan in high school when one of my friends brought me to a game in October; we stood in the nosebleeds and although I only knew a few players' names, I found myself cheering as loud as anyone. I was hooked pretty quickly and it was then that my fandom was born and from whence it began to evolve.
Because every Leafs' fan evolves; with the rises and falls of a long loved team, our relationships with that team start to take on different stages as time goes on. You may not have hit all of the stages just yet, but just wait, you'll get there....and if any group of people knows about waiting...it's Leafs fans. Maybe this current 'Shanaplan' is your first taste of a rebuild, maybe you remember when Wendel had hair or maybe you remember when the 1919 cup was cancelled to Spanish Flu (because unlike soccer, hockey players only sit out when there's a likely chance of death). They call it 'the passion that unites us all', I call it the abusive relationship I'll never leave, but however you look at it....a Leafs fan is a fan for life, no matter the stage.
Stage 1- Baby Bud.
Maybe you've just watched your first game or maybe you've joined the hockey pool at work on a whim and find yourself getting into it...either way, you've just met hockey. It's fun, exciting and new. There are so many teams to learn, so many rules to try to remember (oh THAT's what an icing call is...they don't just stop for cupcakes at random intervals.) You're eager to learn but you're still too nervous to identify yourself as a Leafs fan as you don't want to get quizzed on 100 years of history when you've only just learned how to spell Shanahan. You don't really know about the rest of the league other than knowing instinctively that Ottawa is a shit-hole.
Stage 2- Bud.
You've been watching a couple of months and know all the players names, positions, numbers and which countries they are from (hockey fandom is a great geography lesson). You still don't quite understand everybody's roles...you know who scores and which goalie is the number one. You feel confident enough to say 'yes' when someone says 'did you see that game last night?', but not confident enough to ask that yourself. You're familiar with the all-star level players around the league and you are already developing a healthy hatred for Montreal. You listen attentively to the commentators to try to learn what you should be watching for, which nuances and trends to keep an eye on and look at the sport like a pro.
Stage 3- Sprout
You've watched a full season. You have seen some streaks, good and bad. You understand your team dynamics a bit better and more or less understand each team member's role. You watch every single game, you'll even make your plans around game time. You've started looking in to team history a bit, learning the classic names like Clark, Sittler, Bower, Horton, etc. You're now fully aware that this team hasn't won since 1967, but that doesn't really mean anything to you- other sports have had longer droughts. You've watched your first All-Star game and already agree that they suck. You know that there's a draft at the end of the season but you're not there yet. You know that July 1st is an important day,,,,but you're not entirely sure what happens. You know which commentators are better than others; you despise Glenn Healey and Strombo but you revere Bob McKenzie.
Stage 4- Leafling
It's been a couple of seasons, you've seen other teams hoist the cup and it's made you hungry for playoffs. You know all the teams and all the star players and are the first to defend the Leafs no matter what anyone says. Everyone sucks but the Leafs and anyone who cheers from another team is an idiot (if they are a Philly fan, this is justified for eternity). You go to every tail gate party and only miss a game if you really have to (i.e. an inconsiderate family funeral without HD). If you're lucky enough to see them in the playoffs, you're up and down Yonge Street honking in a car or waving a flag. At this point, you're most likely to start eyeing Leaf tattoos. You jump in to every hockey conversation you overhear, you're eager to prove yourself. You still trust the management.
Stage 5- Leafs Fan
You're a veteran. You love them...but now you also are cautious of them...like an ex who has hurt you but you took them back anyways. You've seen them do nothing on Trade Deadline day (or worse, sign Aki Berg), you've been gouged for ticket prices a year after missing the playoffs...and maybe some of your favourites have retired or taken higher paying contracts with other teams (and they say it's because they want a cup, but did Vancouver give you a cup?? Did it Mats? Did it?!?!) You're familiar with all the players on every team, you refuse to watch All-Star games and have taken an interest in the minor leagues. You have respect for the other teams and can understand their fans (not Buffalo though). You're seeing players less as idols, more as commodities, because if you have to lose that much-loved player to get the man who is going to help you win and free-up cap space, so be it. You wear your wounds with pride, and your many jerseys, hats, shirts, etc. You talk about previous seasons like war vets speak of battles (oh, the strike of 2004, that was a cold year, with no hockey to watch for nigh on 12 months...September 15th 2004 shall live in infamy)
Stage 6- Your Dad
It's the stage everyone fears and vows never to reach...but we all do. You've become your father. You'll catch the odd game here and there, usually not missing them because you're busy, but you just can't be bothered to watch those overpaid punks in the 'new hockey' because it's not the game you grew to love. It's a bunch of millionaires playing for billionaires in a bastardized version of a once-great game. In your day, goalies didn't wear more armour than a Game of Thrones episode. In your day, people could actually have a fight, and the fighters would shake hands afterwards. In your day, shootout was a bad word. 3-on-3? That was something that happened at bachelor parties, not hockey games! You know you've reached this stage when you first say "He's not as good as (insert retired payer) was". That tattoo you got as a Leafling maybe has a few little sags in it...you said you'd get the year they won the Cup tattooed beside it....but that space is still blank...isn't it. You are quick to dismiss any good news, claiming they don't know what they're doing or they'll screw it up. It's not that you don't want them to do well, you wish them well...but you just can't keep letting yourself get hurt.
Stage 7- Your Grandfather
You watch one, maybe two games a year, and usually only if someone else is around and they put it on. There is no joy left in you in the modern day team, you can't pronounce the player names, not that they would hold a candle to your old time players. Half the teams you grew up with have collapsed or moved to other cities that should never have hockey in them (3 teams in California?! 2 in Florida??). You long for the old days when players had respect, were allowed to play and hockey was hockey. When asked if you're a hockey fan, you reply 'I used to be', but....although you don't admit it, you still get a little smile during playoff time...you have been hurt for too long to get your hopes up, but you still hold that flame, deep down, to see the Cup come to Toronto. Your jerseys are in the back of the closet or maybe in an old box or bag, they haven't seen the light of day in a very long time. however you would never dream of getting rid of them. Like Yoda teaching Luke, you have paid your dues and the new generation can spend their energy chasing the dream but you still want to see the Sith defeated (Gary Bettman).
In conclusion, my dear blue bloods, Leaf fans come in many shapes, sizes, genders, nationalities and stages. We may evolve at different rates and times, but we share the love of our team at the core center of it all and our hearts beat to the chant of 'Go Leafs Go'. No matter what, we can all agree....Kerry Fraser can eat a giant bag of dicks.
If you read that in Andy Frost's voice, you are probably a Leafs fan.
The Leafs, one of the NHL's oldest and most storied franchises. A team with a history, a culture, a huge fan base and a stupid amount of money. I first became a fan in high school when one of my friends brought me to a game in October; we stood in the nosebleeds and although I only knew a few players' names, I found myself cheering as loud as anyone. I was hooked pretty quickly and it was then that my fandom was born and from whence it began to evolve.
Because every Leafs' fan evolves; with the rises and falls of a long loved team, our relationships with that team start to take on different stages as time goes on. You may not have hit all of the stages just yet, but just wait, you'll get there....and if any group of people knows about waiting...it's Leafs fans. Maybe this current 'Shanaplan' is your first taste of a rebuild, maybe you remember when Wendel had hair or maybe you remember when the 1919 cup was cancelled to Spanish Flu (because unlike soccer, hockey players only sit out when there's a likely chance of death). They call it 'the passion that unites us all', I call it the abusive relationship I'll never leave, but however you look at it....a Leafs fan is a fan for life, no matter the stage.
Stage 1- Baby Bud.
Maybe you've just watched your first game or maybe you've joined the hockey pool at work on a whim and find yourself getting into it...either way, you've just met hockey. It's fun, exciting and new. There are so many teams to learn, so many rules to try to remember (oh THAT's what an icing call is...they don't just stop for cupcakes at random intervals.) You're eager to learn but you're still too nervous to identify yourself as a Leafs fan as you don't want to get quizzed on 100 years of history when you've only just learned how to spell Shanahan. You don't really know about the rest of the league other than knowing instinctively that Ottawa is a shit-hole.
Stage 2- Bud.
You've been watching a couple of months and know all the players names, positions, numbers and which countries they are from (hockey fandom is a great geography lesson). You still don't quite understand everybody's roles...you know who scores and which goalie is the number one. You feel confident enough to say 'yes' when someone says 'did you see that game last night?', but not confident enough to ask that yourself. You're familiar with the all-star level players around the league and you are already developing a healthy hatred for Montreal. You listen attentively to the commentators to try to learn what you should be watching for, which nuances and trends to keep an eye on and look at the sport like a pro.
Stage 3- Sprout
You've watched a full season. You have seen some streaks, good and bad. You understand your team dynamics a bit better and more or less understand each team member's role. You watch every single game, you'll even make your plans around game time. You've started looking in to team history a bit, learning the classic names like Clark, Sittler, Bower, Horton, etc. You're now fully aware that this team hasn't won since 1967, but that doesn't really mean anything to you- other sports have had longer droughts. You've watched your first All-Star game and already agree that they suck. You know that there's a draft at the end of the season but you're not there yet. You know that July 1st is an important day,,,,but you're not entirely sure what happens. You know which commentators are better than others; you despise Glenn Healey and Strombo but you revere Bob McKenzie.
Stage 4- Leafling
It's been a couple of seasons, you've seen other teams hoist the cup and it's made you hungry for playoffs. You know all the teams and all the star players and are the first to defend the Leafs no matter what anyone says. Everyone sucks but the Leafs and anyone who cheers from another team is an idiot (if they are a Philly fan, this is justified for eternity). You go to every tail gate party and only miss a game if you really have to (i.e. an inconsiderate family funeral without HD). If you're lucky enough to see them in the playoffs, you're up and down Yonge Street honking in a car or waving a flag. At this point, you're most likely to start eyeing Leaf tattoos. You jump in to every hockey conversation you overhear, you're eager to prove yourself. You still trust the management.
Stage 5- Leafs Fan
You're a veteran. You love them...but now you also are cautious of them...like an ex who has hurt you but you took them back anyways. You've seen them do nothing on Trade Deadline day (or worse, sign Aki Berg), you've been gouged for ticket prices a year after missing the playoffs...and maybe some of your favourites have retired or taken higher paying contracts with other teams (and they say it's because they want a cup, but did Vancouver give you a cup?? Did it Mats? Did it?!?!) You're familiar with all the players on every team, you refuse to watch All-Star games and have taken an interest in the minor leagues. You have respect for the other teams and can understand their fans (not Buffalo though). You're seeing players less as idols, more as commodities, because if you have to lose that much-loved player to get the man who is going to help you win and free-up cap space, so be it. You wear your wounds with pride, and your many jerseys, hats, shirts, etc. You talk about previous seasons like war vets speak of battles (oh, the strike of 2004, that was a cold year, with no hockey to watch for nigh on 12 months...September 15th 2004 shall live in infamy)
Stage 6- Your Dad
It's the stage everyone fears and vows never to reach...but we all do. You've become your father. You'll catch the odd game here and there, usually not missing them because you're busy, but you just can't be bothered to watch those overpaid punks in the 'new hockey' because it's not the game you grew to love. It's a bunch of millionaires playing for billionaires in a bastardized version of a once-great game. In your day, goalies didn't wear more armour than a Game of Thrones episode. In your day, people could actually have a fight, and the fighters would shake hands afterwards. In your day, shootout was a bad word. 3-on-3? That was something that happened at bachelor parties, not hockey games! You know you've reached this stage when you first say "He's not as good as (insert retired payer) was". That tattoo you got as a Leafling maybe has a few little sags in it...you said you'd get the year they won the Cup tattooed beside it....but that space is still blank...isn't it. You are quick to dismiss any good news, claiming they don't know what they're doing or they'll screw it up. It's not that you don't want them to do well, you wish them well...but you just can't keep letting yourself get hurt.
Stage 7- Your Grandfather
You watch one, maybe two games a year, and usually only if someone else is around and they put it on. There is no joy left in you in the modern day team, you can't pronounce the player names, not that they would hold a candle to your old time players. Half the teams you grew up with have collapsed or moved to other cities that should never have hockey in them (3 teams in California?! 2 in Florida??). You long for the old days when players had respect, were allowed to play and hockey was hockey. When asked if you're a hockey fan, you reply 'I used to be', but....although you don't admit it, you still get a little smile during playoff time...you have been hurt for too long to get your hopes up, but you still hold that flame, deep down, to see the Cup come to Toronto. Your jerseys are in the back of the closet or maybe in an old box or bag, they haven't seen the light of day in a very long time. however you would never dream of getting rid of them. Like Yoda teaching Luke, you have paid your dues and the new generation can spend their energy chasing the dream but you still want to see the Sith defeated (Gary Bettman).
In conclusion, my dear blue bloods, Leaf fans come in many shapes, sizes, genders, nationalities and stages. We may evolve at different rates and times, but we share the love of our team at the core center of it all and our hearts beat to the chant of 'Go Leafs Go'. No matter what, we can all agree....Kerry Fraser can eat a giant bag of dicks.
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