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That's you, guys.
The first game was a humiliation. The second game, granted, you won. The third game you served up to the bruins on a platter. The fourth game, through sheer dint of incredible effort, you snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Tonight you stand to be eliminated, Go for it.
Nine years you haven't made the playoffs. You haven't made it to the finals in forty six. Yet, despite all, thanks to the fans' pig headed devotion, you are the most profitable team in the league. You reward your fans by selling virtually all the season tickets to corporations, and let the fans fight it out for the remaining few. You charge fans an arm and a leg to watch your pitiful team get crushed. You make almost no effort to use those profits to put together a team that is worth watching. Why would you? Some years ago, the Leafs were offered Gretzky for a song, as he wanted to end his career here. You turned him down, because he couldn't sell any more seats than were sold already, and the low price he was seeking would have cut too deeply into your profits. If fans had any self respect, they would have stormed the arena and torn it down with their bare hands, and sent you guys off packing. Instead, they still fill the arena and your pockets.
This season started with a strike in which millionaires argued with billionaires over who should get more money. the strike ended when they decided, what the heck, let's both get more money, and they upped the ticket prices. Thanks in part to the abbreviated season, as it denied them the opportunity for their usual late season choke, the Leafs managed to make the playoffs. The Leafs' management then showed their gratitude for the fans' undying support by jacking up the ticket prices by seventy five per cent for the post season. Their attitude towards the fans could not have been more clear if they had the scoreboard flash "Thanks, suckers!" in the middle of the game.
When I was young, I played hockey. I was a bad player on a rotten team in a lousy league. My skills were so poor that, at the age of ten, when I fantasized about making it to the NHL, my father told me to abandon the dream. "You're not good enough and you never will be," he told me. No "pursue your dream. son. Go for it," here. Today, if my Dad were still alive, I would tell him: "You were wrong, Dad. I was good enough, I could have played for the Leafs!" I saw a part of the third game, the one the Leafs handed over to the Bruins. I, bad player for a rotten team in a lousy league, would have been embarrassed to have played that poorly. They basically said to the Bruins: "Here. You take the puck, I have no idea what to do with it." These clowns couldn't hit the puck in the unrinal.
People ask me why I am not a hockey fan. The real question is not why I am no longer a fan. The real question is why they are one still. Now hurry up and get eliminated, losers. Make room for a real team. Take your managers and owners with you.
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