Road Hockey
Can I bring myself to support the Leafs or the Oilers?
Several times in recent years, I have planned a spring vacation only to feel a sudden thrill of panic. What if the Jets make a deep run? Will I be able to get the game in the Norwegian fjords? Will I have to watch in the middle of the night? If I wait till the morning will my son, Alex, impetuously give away the result, ruining everything?
This year, though, as I headed west in my EV, I figured it was a bonus. The time zones meant it would be easy to watch the late west coast games.
As I started my trip in late March, the Jets were fighting to win a spot in the playoffs. I packed my Jets jersey—Ehlers #27—for when I would need it. I had misplaced my Jets hat but managed to buy the last one they had in a store in North Bay.
That hat started a few conversations along the way. Some old guys (well, no older than me) in a truck stop in Upsala saw it and we ended up talking hockey right through breakfast. At Elk Island National park, a young man shepherding his older parents caught sight of it: his folks were visiting from Winnipeg, it turned out. Dad had been a teacher at Tech Voc.
When I was in Winnipeg, I got a chance to wear my Ehlers jersey. I went to the Jets’ final home game of the regular season with a friend—and the Jets won! They were heating up at the right time.
Once the Jets made the playoffs, I FaceTimed Alex from my hotel and we’d watch the games together.
Of course, what I should have realized was that back when I was in the fjords I never actually had a problem. By the time I was there, the Jets either hadn’t made the playoffs or hadn’t gone deep enough to affect any other plans of mine. Why should it be so different now just because I was out west?
This year, the Jets went out in five games to Las Vegas, and what happened in Vegas ended in tears. The Jets’ coach, Rick Bowness, literally said he was “disgusted” by their performance, before half taking it back the next day.
I’ve put my Jets hat away. I don’t want to expose myself to shame and ridicule as I traverse Seattle Kraken territory in the next few days. They’ve made the second round in just their second year in the league.
I have also devoted more serious thought than a grown man should to the question that now arises: can I bring myself to support the Leafs or the Oilers?
Growing up, I was a Habs fan in the NHL, and naturally reviled the Leafs. When that guy holds up the “Leafs Suck” sign and they show it on the big screen at the Canadian Tire Centre during Ottawa Senators games, I cheer right along with everyone else.
As for the Oilers, they were the Jets’ rivals back in the WHA days. The Jets usually clobbered the Oilers on their way to the Avco Cup. But when the two teams joined the NHL, the roles were quickly reversed as Gretzky kicked into gear. The three years I lived in Edmonton during the Oilers’ Cup years only marinated my resentment.
But as my friend Roy MacGregor pointed out in the Globe and Mail the other day, Canada needs a Stanley Cup. With the two most recent Cup winners already knocked out, along with the seemingly unbeatable Bruins, this could be the year.
After great torment, I have decided that my feelings of patriotism should outweigh all my petty parochialism.
When I cross over to the United States on Wednesday, I will sign up for ESPN+ so that I don’t have to miss any games if my cheap motels don’t have them in the cable package.
I will be watching the Leafs and the Oilers and cheering them on. But to be clear, you will not see me wearing any of their stupid hats.
Who will your son Alex cheer for?
Should my Leafs overcome another round first game loss and go on to win the Cup, I suspect there will be a full quota of bandwagon fans. However, because I am indeed a very long time ardent Leafs fan, I am more inclined to expect failure sooner rather than later.