You might think that as a Leafs fan, I'm taking sweet, sadistic pleasure in the Ottawa Senators doing their usual spring revue of The Dying Swan On Skates.
Far from it. This is on par with having your eyelids propped open to watch Full House reruns on a continuous loop while flaming bamboo shoots are jammed under your fingernails.
Maybe I'm growing soft in my old age or something, but this was a cringe-worthy loss, with the Sens falling 2-1 to the Sabres in Game 2 of the Eastern Conference semifinal last night despite a 44-17 advantage in shots on goal. Buffalo -- Buffalo! -- leads the series 2-0.
This was 2 1/2 hours of waiting for the other skate to drop, because to quote a familiar refrain with the Senators, it's not just that they lost, it's how they lost. The Sabres, a decent team to be sure but a decided underdog, scored two goals in less than three minutes in the second period -- including one after a ghastly giveaway at the Sabres blueline, courtesy of the normally reliable Chris Phillips.
Ottawa got one back a few minutes later, then the rest of the night was just slow, gradual acceptance of the inevitable as the minutes melted off the clock and Ottawa shooters blasted away and had their shots either stopped or blocked, with the rebound or ricochet always skidding where no one was standing to fire them behind Buffalo goalie Ryan Miller.
Why the sympathy? Maybe I'm exercising self-preservation now that I'm behind enemy lines, but part of this is the realizing the other side of the Little City vs. Big City rivalry. There's high irony, and more than a little hypocrisy, to the hatred Senators fans have for the Leafs is threefold in that 1) Ottawa would never have been given a franchise back in 1990 if the Leafs hadn't blocked Hamilton from getting one 2) the Senators owner and financial saviour is a Toronto guy and 3) Ottawa is, as witnessed by the 4:30 p.m. traffic snarls I witness, seems to want nothing more than to turn into Toronto Jr.
But Leafs fans let it roll off our backs, because we know something Senators fans don't seem to have opened their eyes to yet. Actually, we hope they never will.
Put it to you this way: It's like the second-season Simpsons episode -- only because everything can be likened to The Simpsons and it's very late at night -- where it's believed Homer has eaten poisoned blowfish at a seafood restaurant and is given 24 hours to live.
Dr. Hibbert: Now, a little death anxiety is normal. You can
expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.
Homer: No way! Because I'm not dying!
Dr. Hibbert: The second is anger.
Homer: Why you little!
Dr. Hibbert: After that comes fear.
Homer: What's after fear? What's after fear?
Dr. Hibbert: Bargaining.
Homer: Doc, you gotta get me out of this! I'll make it worth your
while!
Dr. Hibbert: Finally, acceptance.
Homer: Well, we all gotta go sometime.
The Leafs can miss the playoffs and life goes on. Toronto, as embodied by a small minority of Leafs fans in the city and in the hinterlands (I hail from the latter), is well-schooled after the past four decades of drab, utter futility, and has graduated all the way to the final stage, Acceptance.
We -- the royal we, the editorial we -- are way beyond throwing pity parties or looking for sympathy. We're at the shoot-them-all-and-let-God-sort-them-out stage, where you're at peace with who you are and nobody can lay a glove on you.
Not everyone subscribes to it, but this is a damn good attitude to have if you're going to cheer for Toronto teams. Two of the city's three major-league franchises are run by soulless, brain-dead nickel-and-diming bean counters, and the other has to push its boulder up the twin mountains that are Evil Empires 1 and 1-A, the Yankees and the Red Sox.
Some of us have a terrible, defeatist attitude that is, in a strange way, psychologically healthy. We know, as Homer reflected in a different episode, that life is just one long series of disappointments till you just wish Flanders was dead. We know, even if we don't consciously admit it, that we'll never win another Cup, so we trumpet our little triumphs -- witness those blue-and-white-clad buffoons who embarrass the Leaf Nation by storming through the streets to celebrate winning a first-round playoff series.
It's fine, 99% of the time. Then there's that other 1% which keeps you up until dawn, replaying Wayne Gretzky's bank shot off Dave Ellett's skate in 1993 and imagining the Leafs-Canadiens showdown that never was. You don't want to know.
As for Ottawa, where the Sens are the only game in town -- the CFL just died for the second time and it's hard to feel validated by a Tulip Festival, even if it's a kick-ass Tulip Festival -- their followers are still at Stage 1, Denial.
Denial, in this case, takes the form of chest-puffed-out pride. Every year, all season long, you hear about how the Senators have the most talent in the league -- and they probably do. There's even a theory some subscribe to that the Senators fail in the playoffs because after 82 games of outclassing teams with superior skating and sweet skills, they're unable to adjust to the dog-eat-dog grind of the playoffs.
Every spring, the puck bounces right for some teams and doesn't for some others, and aside from that run to the Game 7 of the East final in 2003, it never bounces Ottawa's way. Who knows why, but dollar-store psychology suggests it tied's to Senators fans, and maybe even the organization itself, being at the denial stage. It's either that or someone who spearheaded Hamilton's doomed 1990 bid is very good with a Ouija board.
It's not about talent or strategy in the playoffs, or even experience. The Senators and their fans surely know this, but awareness has seldom turned into action. And every spring, the Senators show a peculiar ability to find ways to piss away playoff games.
We're outplaying them. We've outshot the Sabres almost 2-1 in the first two games. We had the best team in the league in the regular season and we're losing. (Actually, the Red Wings did, but that was way over in the Western Conference. For a navel-gazing Ontarian, the West might as well be the Swiss Elite League.) Buffalo only beat us once all season when we had our whole team.
The Senators may yet come back and win this series. And if they don't, boy oh boy, their fans will be ready to make the jump to Stage 2, Anger.
Granted, it will be mild Ottawa-style anger, so you won't see any burning effigies of Disappearing Daniel Alfredsson or riots at sporting good stores which refuse to give refunds for Senators merchandise.
The most you'll see is a decreased demand for season-tickets and some strongly worded Letters to the Editor.
But as a Leafs fan, it's hard to watch, because I know what comes after you get past the Anger, Fear and Bargaining. Even when you achieve Acceptance, there's still that 1%. That nagging, dark, ugly, 1% that you don't like to talk about at parties.
Bottom line: the Senators better get their act together in Game 3.
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