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With six minutes to go in last nights Leafs game it was expected and normal that the mind would begin to wander. The sports fan, we agree, is allowed and encouraged to luxuriate in moments of fantasy and expectation. Phaneuf and Beauchemin? One of the top five defensive pairings in the NHL. Yeah, baby. Jonas Gustavsson? A gem, a seven foot tall Swedish jewel whose skills and talents are only truly appreciated by the die-hards who watch every game - yeah, bring on that smug, self satisfied smile. Then, of course, the important matter. The glorious future. How badly were the Leafs going to hammer the Ottawa Senators Saturday night? Yeah, it’s okay, let’s look ahead a little, let’s savour the promise of tomorrow night - with Giguere fresh and ready, could another shutout be in the offing? And guess what, the win tomorrow would give us three in a row, and suddenly the playoffs were in our grasp, just waiting for our arrival. Yes, six minutes to go and Leaf Nation was on rapture mode, grinning at Kovalchuk, dissing Parise and, in a moment of generosity, expressing concern that our shellacking of Martin Brodeur could impact his ability to shoulder the burden as Canada’s starting goaltender at the 2010 Olympics. The odd Leaf fan perhaps chuckled and thought, Roberto Luongo should be thanking us; after our demolition job he’s a cinch to be starting in the Olympics. Six minutes to go, and Leaf Nation was soaring. Six minutes to go and Leaf Nation was revising their expectations - Stanley Cup in five years? No, let’s make that three. Hell yeah, Kadri grinning as Kessel hands him the Cup. Six minutes to go, this Leaf fan had his coat on, ready to go down to the Rail, ready to rejoice, ready to stoke the fervour, ready to rhapsodize and turn tonight’s effort into poetry…

   …nails scraping through human flesh, oozing blood. A hoarse wail, a bloody fist slamming through the plaster of a living room wall. A thin trickle of red wandering from the nose. Chunks of steaming vomit splayed across a battered television. Six minute after last night’s game. Hot anguish and scalding tears shredding a visage soaked with bile and slippery mucous. Repetitive thuds of a shattered, splintered knee puncturing the frayed covering of a living room couch. Six minutes after the most wretched, soul devouring franchise in the history of sports committed just the latest atrocity, just the most recent ball twisting, ovary crushing, femur snapping, and eyeball grinding obscenity. The Leafs are; a disease, an intestine rupturing affliction that sodomizes dreams and pumps illness into plump, unquestioning veins. A franchise born of the devil’s desire to torment and afflict, an expression of the existence of the depraved, a bellow of the insane and the betrayer - your Toronto Maple Leafs…the franchise cast from the heavens and placed on earth as an impetus to wrench your very eyeballs from the cracked remnants of a throbbing skull…

   The Toronto Maple Leafs host the Ottawa Senators Saturday night in a match sure to be an ACC classic! The red hot Senators will tangle with a Leaf squad bolstered by the addition of perennial all star Dion Phaneuf and magnificent goaltender J S Giguere. Your Buds are sure to be at their very best after a narrow loss in a thriller in New Jersey last night! The Battle of Ontario will be hard fought! You must not miss it! If your wife tells you to miss it, kill her! If your children are a distraction, send them to Haiti! It is Leaf Nation, and your presence is warmly requested…or savagely demanded! So be at the ACC or in front of your TV set, just stop your whining and watch the god-damn game! ‘Kay! GO LEAFS GO!!!