Think about it. Almost three generations have missed winning it all. The indifference must be because blue, black and white flows through the hardening arteries – black is the colour of grief, of lamenting yet another loss in the playoffs.
Which have begun in the most important professional hockey league in the world. And it will be an uphill battle for the Buds. Again. For they lack the two components that make up a winner – a quality goalie and stud defensemen. In 1967 they had them, Johnny Bower between the pipes and stalwarts including Bobby Baun and Tim Horton on the blue line. Who are all resting in peace, fond memories of triumphant parades long gone. Or mayhaps still playing in the Elysian Maple Leaf Fields. For such a place must exist.
We are now on the threshold of annual disappointment. The regular season hath endeth.
Reason perhaps for the evolution of the lean machine from fervent fan to a somewhat blasé reader of game summaries. Don’t get him wrong – the hometown boosterism still exists to a minor extent. But as the trials of youth proved by not learning to skate backwards an awkward lad never played the game with any skill. Might have been different if that had not been the case. The passion was there. Might have been driving every cold winter Thursday to the arena in the pitch dark to play in a beer league with “Clear the track, here comes Shack” on the truck’s 8-track, bravely belted at a bazillion decibels.
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