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…)
He took the pass. He moved around the arc on the floor around the basket. There were four seconds left in regulation time. And all spectators in the building were on their feet, leaping and screaming. At the corner of the offensive end, he turned, jumped and launched the ball.
“Is this the dagger?” one commentator shouted into a mike.
Then, with the ball in the air, the final buzzer blared. The ball landed on one side of the rim, then bounced to the other side, bounced a third time, dribbled a fourth, and then dropped through the hoop. “Yesssssss! Game! Series! Toronto Raptors have won!” the announcer screamed finally. (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…)
Over the weekend, I read with moderate interest about the latest woes facing the Toronto Raptors pro basketball team. All week long, the Raptors’ brain trust was grappling with the news that Kyle Lowry’s wrist surgery might put the Raptors’ all-star point guard on the shelf for the rest of the season. Here’s now the Toronto Star’s Bruce Arthur put the loss of Lowry:
“It’s like a team losing both its brain and the biggest part of its heart.” (more…)
Dignitaries had been gathering at the French Embassy in Ottawa for an hour. Wine was flowing. Hors d’oeuvres fast disappearing. And finally, an assistant to the ambassador announced that His Excellency was in the hall. The din dissipated and our attention was directed to a mezzanine level where a woman dressed in red, white and blue began to sing.
“O Caa-naa-daa,” she began in elongated, almost dirge-like tones.
“Oh no,” I thought. “This is going to be another of those interminable renditions of our national anthem.”