Last Christmas, with my Toronto Maple Leafs clicking along about fourth or fifth in the NHL standings, Matthews netting goals in threes (it seemed) every other night, Ilya Samsonov looking like Johnny Bower between the pipes, and even Sheldon Keefe exuding confidence behind the bench, my daughter gave me a most appropriate gift. It was a Leafs blue T-shirt, complete with logo and an inscription.
“Just once before I die,” it reads. (more…)
It was the end-of-year party for our oldtimers hockey club at a pub in town. After some wings, some beer and a lot of laughs, we got down to the serious stuff of discussing the game we love. And it didn’t take long, before the elephant in the room emerged.
“What’re they going to do about fighting in hockey?” (more…)
I’m considering becoming an Arizona Coyotes fan. Not because I have an affinity for either the Arizona desert or the wily mammal in the team name. Since I’ve lived in or around Toronto most of my life, I’ve always considered myself a Leafs fan by default.
But I’m beginning to think – even in sports – I should support people with more admirable attitudes. And recently, Coyotes defenceman Travis Dermott did an admirable thing. He used Pride Tape on his hockey stick in a game Saturday night.
“I have some family involved in the LGBTQ community,” he told ESPN in 2021. “I’d like to step forward and take part in supporting them.” (more…)
The festival began the way most events do these days in Canada. With respect. Last Thursday evening, the creative director of a festival in which I was participating, came to the microphone at the lectern, looked at the assembly of novelists, non-fiction writers, poets and all the other festival-goers. With appropriate sincerity and solemnity, she read the local land acknowledgement.
“We acknowledge that we are on Treaty 4 land,” she said, “encompassing the lands of the Cree, Saulteaux, Dakota, Nakota, Lakota and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.”
That’s the way the 27th edition of the Saskatchewan Festival of Words began in Moose Jaw, last week. (more…)
For me, Saturday night was one of those “Where were you?” moments. I’d spent the day travelling to and from Brantford and made it home just in time to plunk myself down in front of the TV for part of game six of the Leafs-Lightning first-round Stanley Cup playoff.
I caught the end of regulation time with the score tied 1-1. Finally (because I sometimes watch games on CBC and listen to them on radio simultaneously), I heard Joe Bowen’s call as John Tavares’s shot trickled past Tampa netminder Andrei Vasilevskiy at 4:35 of overtime:
“They scored! They scored! Holy Mackinaw, they scored!” he shouted. “The Leafs are going to the second round!” (more…)
You’ve probably seen it. The now ubiquitous advertisement shows Connor McDavid allegedly focused at practice. The Edmonton Oilers’ star forward is firing pucks at a goaltender. Cut to just off the ice where a coach turns to Wayne Gretzky and says: “Connor’s just finishing up. He’s pumped you’re here.”
“No rush,” Gretzky says as he looks down at his cellphone and shouts at it, “Come on! Drain that three.” He’s clearly encouraging some other athlete for some other purpose. But he’s become a distraction to McDavid.
“Trying to practise here, Wayne,” McDavid admonishes Gretzky.
“You need it!” Gretzky shoots back. (more…)
It’s been a ritual for years. Generally, on Saturdays, I convene adults and kids in the family Donut Club. I rustle up the donuts. They readily eat them. And through most of those years, the orders for the kids have been the same – chocolate-glazed or sprinkled donuts from Bredin’s Bakery in town. Well, the pandemic and the closure of the bakery changed all that. The Donut Club hasn’t met as regularly as it used to. But last Saturday morning, I put out the call for the donut orders anyway.
“Boston Cream, please,” came back one order.
“Boston Cream? Since when?” I asked.
Well, because everything’s been turned upside down for these past two years. And the donut delivery guy (me) has been separated from the donut eaters (them) for quite a while. (more…)
On Aug. 31, I joined my daughter for an event to remember. Canada’s women’s hockey team faced its arch rival – the Americans – in a three-on-three overtime period in Calgary for the International Ice Hockey Federation world championship. Just over seven minutes into sudden death, team captain Marie-Philip Poulin broke in on the U.S. goal and put a wrist shot off the crossbar down into the net for the victory. The Toronto Star interviewed former Leafs goalie coach Steve McKichan after the game.
“That’s the Hall of Fame bardown shot in women’s hockey,” and he went on to say in the history of greatest Canadian hockey goals, “it was top-five.” (more…)
Monday night I was driving. I was on the edge of the range of the radio station broadcasting the Leafs-Bruins Stanley Cup playoff game. It was late in the third period. The signal faded momentarily just as play-by-play announcer Joe Bowen’s voice rose in intensity describing an up-ice pass from Mitch Marner to Patrick Marleau. And just before the radio signal dropped out completely I heard Bowen shout out his patented exclamation:
“Holy Mackinaw! What an enormous goal!” With that goal, the Leafs won the game, 4-2. (more…)
I read the newspapers over the weekend. I expected to see news about a trade involving the Maple Leafs. And there it was on the front page of Monday’s Toronto Star sports section. Defenceman Cody Franson is gone. So is perhaps the hardest working forward on the team, Mike Santorelli. Then, Tuesday online, I caught a bit of the reporter scrum involving Toronto’s newest acquisition in the deal, 36-year-old Nashville Predator Olli Jokinen responding to the question: “Are you surprised?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” he told the Star. “Why wouldn’t I be?” (more…)
