Haunting end. DiManno,
They were sure they had it right this time. In the end, another Game 7 eclipse haunts Leafs’ dreams
Four beats to the bar and off. The absence of presence. The ghosting of Auston Matthews and Mitch Marner.
The paranormal haunting of this monstrous mansion inhabited by the Maple Leafs. Pack up now.
It’s not the end of the world, but it is the end of this team. For 2021, as the sand ran out of the hourglass, and forevermore.
Past its expiry date, this carton of Maple Leafs. Thought they could get playoff crackin’ and instead they laid an egg. Admit it — you saw it coming. Everyone in Leaf Nation who knows anything about franchise history, about the past five seasons, about a predisposition to wilting under stress, had been counting down the hours toward a dreaded playoff apocalypse.
It was probably written in the wind from the moment the Leafs lost Game 6. Judgment Night Game 7, for all the buildup, all the players’ attestations of spines stiffened, was merely a postscript.
On the solemn morning after, a magnificent regular season doesn’t mean squat.
One, two, three kicks at the can to rid themselves of Montreal and the Leafs retched. Some of them won’t get the chance to try again, won’t pass this way again. Some shouldn’t.
In the wake of Monday’s 3-1 defeat by the Canadiens, an opponent so inferior that it hardly seemed a fair contest, the post-mortem must be conducted forthwith, entrails studied for an explanation of what went so spectacularly wrong.
Elimination games: 0-for-6 in the era of Matthews and Marner.
An epitaph from Morgan Rielly, who’s been here in this same mournful spot too many times. “It’s tough, obviously. It’s as hard as it gets. The expectation within the room was higher. The goals are higher than what we achieved this year and it makes the disappointment much worse.
“We feel it and we realize that we let an opportunity slip. That’s not acceptable by our standards, and it makes the loss a lot worse than anything we’ve had to deal with before.”
Jack Campbell, so visibly crushed and sniffling afterwards, beating himself up for the first goal that got by him.
“I’m just thinking of how hard our team battled, for it to end … that goal, worst goal of my career happened in Game 7. It’s just unacceptable. The team counts on me to be better. I know I can be better than that.”
The blame is not his. Matthews, post-game, could not really put any of it in perspective; too fresh. “It’s kind of hard to sum up. It’s extremely frustrating, just all around.”
Marner was equally dumbfounded. “Auston and I, especially at playoff time, you want to be the guy they go to, the guy that can lead a team out of the series. We had multiple looks every single game. We want that puck to go in the net … it didn’t go in the net. That’s kind of what it comes down to.”
The Leafs were fully awake on this evening from the getgo, after starting first periods drowsy and listless over previous games. Actually, it was Carey Price in la-la land since he didn’t have his blocker on, facing the wrong way, unaware the puck had dropped. Only time his attention wandered.
Top line buzzing for Toronto, if futilely, D-men aggressive in offensive involvement, five shots in that frame from the blue-line corps: Marner 1, Matthews 0.
Marner, who was stripped of the puck by Eric Staal, turnover in the offensive zone, and the Habs opened the scoring off the rush at 3:02 of the second frame — that all-important first goal, Brendan Gallagher beating Campbell five-hole. A puck that should have been
stopped.
Yet again the Leafs found themselves chasing the game while trying to cleave to the structure their coach is always banging on about. But there was plenty of game left and they did respond fiercely, creating turnovers of their own yet snookered by Price, Zach Hyman twice bedevilled.
Sheldon Keefe rode the Marner-Matthews-Hyman line hard, giving them every chance to seize the game by the short hairs. But a Montreal power play that only found a pulse in Game 6 made it 2-0, Nick Suzuki’s shot deflecting off Corey Perry.
From that point, the Leafs were desperados. And like most desperados, doomed.
A power play to start the third went for nada. Another power play with 8 ⁄ 2 minutes left in 1 regulation time — nada.
On the other side of an empty-netter for Tyler Toffoli, William Nylander finally solved Price, for the fifth time in the series, at 18:24. Too late. Way too late.
Likely we’ll learn of injuries beyond what was so clearly evident and maybe that accounts, in part, for the perplexing lack of finish around the net by Matthews. The loss of Jake Muzzin midway Saturday struck particularly hard, though the lineup absence of captain John Tavares wasn’t a punch in the throat, as others did step up to the challenge.
It came down, rather, to the missing of the mighty on the scoresheet.
Of Matthews, with one measly goal. Of Marner, who hasn’t scored even that many in his last 17 post-season games and looked increasingly woebegone as the series deepened, despite miles skated. Between them, 53 shots — just four in Game 7 — and nearly double the scoring chances.
What’s the point of a Rocket Richard Trophy when it all goes maddeningly pear-shaped under the playoff glare?
They thought they’d got it right, finally, those responsible for constructing a squad that seemingly lacked nothing. Glitzy offence, a stabilized defence, a ripened superstar core far removed from their salad days, a found treasure in Campbell, heaps of veteran leadership and tough dudes to put some lead in their pencil.
All erased in one godforsaken encounter with the lowly Habs.
In the abbreviated regular season, 56 games to put themselves in this position — because all they got out of it was home ice for Game 7, in a mostly vacant arena, only some 550 vaccinated health-care workers taking their seats, a lastminute yield by the province’s health potentates and Queen’s Park.
Nice touch, but that was never going to make a hell of a difference. The only difference would have been differencemakers rising to the occasion, the pressure-fraught moment.
They could not find it in themselves and they’ll have to live with that.
They should have been choke-proof. Can’t just blame Price relocating his gold-medal stride or the physicality of the Canadiens. So what’s missing?
Rewind the tape to Monday morning because it’s all backward-looks now.
Jason Spezza is 37 and probably this is it for him, without ever being on the upside of a Stanley Cup handshake.
“You live for these moments where you’re under pressure and you have to win to continue to go,” Spezza had said, emphasizing the fun of it. “As kids we’ve all been through this scenario in our driveways, playing road hockey, in our basements playing mini-sticks. Now we’re able to live it out.”
Nobody dreams of losing Game 7.
Keefe: “It’s an incredible opportunity for our team to meet this head-on and find a way to the other side of it.”
Dark side of the moon, turned out, Leafs eclipsed.
Don’t look at it straight on. Your eyes will burn.