Leafs Nation is rife with nervous energy
Despite finding new ways to watch, fans are sharing the same-old excitement
Toronto feels different during the playoffs.
There’s the annual surge of nervous energy that swells inside long-suffering Maple Leaf devotees, of course. But now, with a do-or-die seventh game promising an end to nearly two decades of playoff ignominy, Leaf buzz is seeping into the broader civic consciousness.
You see it in the “Go Leafs Go” billboards lining the Gardiner, the ubiquitous blue-and-white jerseys sprinkling the urban landscape and the audible game night explosions of emotion from neighbours poised before backyard screens.
“It’s become a bit of a spectacle with me and my neighbours and our TVs outside in our backyards watching the games,” says Michael Mazzuca, a Toronto lawyer, former Ontario Hockey League (OHL) player and Leaf die-hard.
“We’re not together, but we can see each other and when the Leafs score, you can hear everybody in the neighbourhood cheering and high-fiving over the fence.”
In the pre-COVID days, Mazzuca was a regular at the games as a season ticket holder. Now, the playoffs have become a family affair with his two young children and his wife watching the games with him.
“My six-year-old son Malcolm is so into it. He stayed up to 11:30 p.m. (Saturday night) watching the game and every time the Leafs score, he runs around the house screaming.”
During his OHL career in the late 1990s, Mazzuca played against current Leaf veterans Joe Thornton and Jason Spezza as well as Leaf coach Sheldon Keefe.
Despite distinguished NHL careers, neither Spezza nor Thornton have ever won a Stanley Cup. Mazzuca says he sees the passion both are playing with after having returned to Ontario late in their careers to make a run for the Cup.
“Right from the OHL, they were fierce competitors. Character guys. I think they’re going to do it.”
His prediction for Game 7:
Leafs win, 4-2.
For Michael Demmings, the playoffs have kindled both his passion for a Leafs Cup win and his professional responsibilities as a home automation consultant. His Toronto firm, Refined Electronic Lifestyles, designs and installs audio/visual systems that are leaning heavily toward outdoor television viewing these days.
“Everybody is doing it. We have lots of clients setting up outside for the games so we are making sure all the sources and speakers are working.”
While backyard television viewing may be the next best thing, COVID-required isolation has undermined some of the magic that comes with a Leaf playoff run, says Demmings, who has been a season Leafs ticket holder for a decade.
“If there were fans in the stands, this city would be upside down right now. And even if I didn’t have tickets, I’d be down around the rink prior to the games just to soak it in and then go home and watch it.”
Demmings was originally a Boston Bruins fan growing up in New Brunswick where Saturday night games on TV typically featured Boston or Montreal. “I loved Bobby Orr so that was my team.”
But when he moved to Toronto in 1989, he started sneaking into Leafs’ games at the old Maple Leaf Gardens.
“I knew this usher who would let me go through and he would put me in a seat when someone didn’t show up. That’s how I started to become a Leafs fan.”
It hasn’t been an easy road, says the 57 year old. And this series against Montreal is a perfect example.
“It’s painful to watch. I had to walk away from the TV during (Game 6). But I’m here. And if I could go, I would.”
Demmings’ prediction for Game 7: Leafs win, 4-1.
Mike Kempa, a criminologist and lifelong Leaf fan, used to buy tickets to the games when his team hit a rough patch.
“I would go so I could booo. I feel like the booing was giving feedback. For Game 7, for the first time, I’m going in loosey goosey. Every other critical situation with the Leafs for 40 years as a fan, I went in thinking they have to get it, so tense. This time I expect nothing. I think the players should go in with the same attitude and they might do it.”
Kempa’s Game 7 prediction: “The Leafs will be behind in the third, tie it and lose it in the dying seconds. Empirically speaking, that is what is most likely to happen based on years and years of demonstrated outcomes. I could dream of something different, but I’ve done that so many times, I just can’t do it again.”
Corporate Canada has been getting in on the playoff bandwagon with branded, spirit-raising initiatives for the Leafs faithful.
Jessica Waks, a Toronto communications professional, was the face of a recent Ford of Canada contest offering playoff party boxes filled with Leaf swag including jerseys, foam fingers and even a catered meal from the Real Sports Bar beside the Scotiabank Arena.
It was a passion project for the mother of twins whose family has held Leaf season tickets since 1963. Watching games with her dad — and later her children — are moments woven into her family narrative.
“It’s very painful to not be able to watch with friends and family. This is such a big deal and we’re all kind of stuck inside our own house. So companies are thinking about how to create the same spirit of togetherness.”
Waks’ prediction for Game 7: “I’m too scared to say.”
Social media and online chat forums are another way Leafs Nation has gathered to vent, strategize and cross fingers on game nights.
“The 17-year curse ends tonight,” wrote one fan on a popular online Leaf forum prior to Game 6 on Saturday. “Let’s f--ing go!”
Another made a pre-game commitment to the team: “Win and I’m going streaking.”
The fan website TMLFever.com has a running counter that is constantly tracking the everexpanding time lapse since the team’s last Stanley Cup victory (19,750 days, or 54 years).
That legendary dry spell looms larger every year in Leaf Land come playoff time.
“Tonight could be the first time since 1967 that we beat the friggin’ Habs in a series,” said one online poster.
As the game unfolded over the first two periods, a lackluster Leafs performance triggered a dramatic change in tone — from hope to despair.
“What the hell is going on?” said one poster. “This team is embarrassing.”
By the time the final overtime goal from Montreal ended a promising comeback, dismay had turned to resignation for one of the many disheartened posters: “I honestly don’t think I can take this any more.”