So I started this blog the summer that Mike Babcock and Lou Lamoriello came on board the good ship Maple Leaf. I don’t remember the dates because dates have always bored me, which is just another reason why I never would have qualified for a diagnosis in the early 80’s. Anyway, the idea of those two HUGE personalities sharing the same air just ignited all sorts of ideas. If you bother scrolling to the early posts (DO NOT DO THIS! #FAIRWARNING) you will see all sorts of ridiculous tales of misadventure as Brendan, Lou, Mike, Kyle, and Mark all navigate the murky waters of ruling over the greatest franchise in the history of life. It was great fun but times change.

I used to tweet to Steven Stamkos and John Tavares to ‘come home’ but I don’t anymore. I used to write about how Mark Hunter could skin an angry moose with his bare hands but I don’t anymore. I used to believe that Mike Babcock was a firm but fair model of leadership but I don’t anymore. What hasn’t changed is I love the Maple Leafs and I hope they get another crack at the dirty Bruins on their way to the Cup. So I still want to write about the Leafs, that much I know. but I think I’m done with the NHL Players are Super-Heroes idea. I don’t have an explanation for it other than the idea doesn’t inspire me. It makes me laugh maybe, but I want to write about the Leafs in a way that I can get distracted by while I’m watching grass grow.

What I loved about the Mike/Lou dynamic was that they obviously hated each other and somehow their egos just demanded that they make it work. With Kyle and Sheldon it’s a totally different relationship. There’s a bond, a trust built on years of mutual respect. So they will obviously have a different story altogether. I think I know what that story is, but it hasn’t swept me away yet.

So I’ve failed in my goal of delivering original fiction for every Leaf game this season. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with learning who I am and how I work. My trauma and my challenges don’t define me. My failures are lessons I can grow from. Everyday I choose to rise above the things that only serve to pull me so so low. Every day I learn to hate myself just a tiny bit less. Today is another day.

Today is another Maple Leaf game. Maybe they will be perfect like they seemed to be last time. Or maybe they are going to be the very best versions of themselves they can be today. That’s my hope for them, that’s my hope for me.

Go Leafs! Go!

This is the hardest thing I have ever written. I’ve put off doing this for weeks because the story I have to tell is awful, and it’s mine. I suppose I don’t have to tell anyone, I can hold all my truths under cover. The problem is that when I come up to something I really don’t want to do, I typically make myself do it. I’ve always done it and I only recently learned why.

It’s called Exposure Response Prevention (E.R.P.) and it is one way of helping people with autism cope with intolerable people or situations in small doses so they can better manage their day to day lives. I know that because I learned that I am on the autism spectrum. It would be called High Functioning Autism if I had gotten an Aspergers diagnosis as a child. I prefer the term ‘discrete autism’ and the discrete nature of my autism is why I never got a diagnosis.

So what? I’ve lived with it for 38 years so I’m fine right?

In a way, I am fine. In another way, I’m actually better than ever. I finally understand why I never made sense to other people. I understand why I had to tie myself in knots to get through a conversation. I understand why I had to punch myself in the head to stop myself from getting too upset. I understand myself in a way that I never thought possible. I haven’t decided yet if I want to obtain a diagnosis. On the one hand it would be nice to have a piece of paper that I could point to… documentation… proof. On the other hand I do not need to prove myself to anyone.

Learning about ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) has been really liberating. It is actually super useful to have an acronym for the weird shit that I do. Nothing hard to write about there. I’m autistic, get over it.

One of the things I’ve been doing is looking back at my memories and adding the filter of autism. That’s where things get dark. If you prefer your blogs to be horror free STOP READING NOW!!!!!

So I was thinking about one of the times I got in trouble for knowing too much about blowjobs. I had the thought “I wonder who’s dick I had to suck” and literally fell over as decades of repressed memories came flooding back. I was the victim of repeated sexual abuse from about ages 4-8 at the hands of a man who my mother trusted to watch me. I don’t remember a lot of details exactly, just flashes of things. Sounds, sights, feelings. The body remembers. If ever you doubt, please believe me, the body remembers. It’s awful.

I’m still unpacking this knowledge. Still trying to understand myself as a survivor of child rape. In a lot of ways it is useful, it fills some more gaps so that combined with the ASD I can finally start learning not to hate myself. It hasn’t been easy, and it won’t get any easier. I’m hoping to stop feeling like there’s a shot in my mouth someday soon. I think writing about it is a good step forward. Obviously I’ll be getting lot’s of therapy too, but then what?

I need to figure out what sort of man I am, I have a blank slate. It’s pretty daunting. Which brings me to my beloved Toronto Maple Leafs. I have long believed that the better we all feel about ourselves, the better the Leafs will play. I created this blog as a way of feeling good about the Leafs, win or lose. When Coach Babcock got fired, and with all the stuff that came out afterwards, I was so shocked I delayed writing about it so I could gather my thoughts. When Coach Keefe started off so hot I was over the moon, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to write anything. Something was wrong.

Something has been wrong, with me, my entire life. I have started the process of getting better, sharing is part of that process. I don’t know what the future holds for this blog, but it damn well better include a Stanley Cup. 

#iBLeaf #LeafsForever #GoLeafsGo

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been appearing to distract the National Heroes League. Recently there has been a shift to the assaults, the opening stages of the invasion are complete. Things are getting real.

Auston Matthews looks out over the Arizona desert. He breathes deep of the warm air, the air of his home. No matter how much he has grown to love the city of Toronto, Auston is from this desert, it is in his bones. And the desert is glad to have him back. A gentle breeze plays with his hair and a hawk cries out a greeting over head. Auston takes another deep breath to savour the freedom of the moment. Then he gets back to work.

“Here they come.” Morgan Rielly says over the Maple Leaf commlink.

Auston squints and sees his target. A jeep careens through the dunes, barely avoiding the scattered boulders and mesas. There is no driver, only a now familiar red glow surrounding the vehicle. The Leaf doesn’t consciously calculate distances or travel times or expected route, what he does is think about what he wants to do and leaps.

Auston arcs out across the sky, wind rushing as the hero converges on the wild jeep. His aim is perfect and the jeep is obliterated when he lands on it. As the gas tank ignites and Auston is engulfed in flames he feels a sense of purpose and new energy fill him, an eagerness to meet the challenges ahead. He smiles.

“That’s one buddy.” Morgan says in his ear. “There’s more coming.”

As the roar of flames dies down the roar of approaching engines builds, and if anything Auston’s smile grows.

 

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been appearing to distract the National Heroes League. Recently there has been a shift to the assaults, the opening stages of the invasion are complete. Things are getting real.

Max Pacioretty and Mark Stone look down at the twitching Toronto Maple Leaf that lies at the bottom of the blasted crater.

“Who is that?” Mark asks.

“I have no idea?” Max admits.

Whatever took the hero out of the fight has left him a disfigured mess. His face and hands bloated beyond his skins ability to keep together. Hairy buboes sprout from every patch of exposed skin. Pus mingles with blood and drool all over the Leafs armour.

“I feel bad.” Mark says.

“I mean, at least the city is saved.” Max says.

“Should we help him?” Mark asks.

“Nah.” Max says. “His team will figure it out.”

The Vegas Golden Knights return to their base to deal with matters that, to them, are more important than the unrecognizable Maple Leaf.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been appearing to distract the National Heroes League. Recently there has been a shift to the assaults, the opening stages of the invasion are complete. Things are getting real.

Tyson Barrie swings at the snarling zombie that rushes at him only to have the illusion dissolve into mist. Freddy Andersen dispells a billowing tower of fog only to have another rear up behind him. The pair of Maple Leafs are isolated and surrounded by an enemy they cannot see.

Another zombie leaps out from the shadows to bite at Tyson. He whips around and slashes it in half. This time it isn’t an empty illusion and his axe bites into the body of a two headed serpent, splitting it in two.

“Come on!” Tyson yells. “Stop hiding! Face us!”

There is no answer beyond the swirling mist that surrounds the heroes.

“They will not answer you. They are playing with us.” Freddy says.

“They?” Tyson asks.

“The mage that is controlling these illusions. They are having fun.” Freddy doesn’t add that the magic being used against them is a type he has never faced before. The Leafs mage has learned not to bother his teammates with details about the magical destruction they routinely encounter.

Tyson slams his axe into the ground out of frustration and sends a shockwave out into the mist. He doesn’t even choose a direction with intent, just sends his pent up destructive force out randomly. There is a sharp shout and the illusions fade for a moment. It is only a shimmer, the briefest of cracks in the otherwise perfect spell. It is enough.

“This way!” Tyson yells as he rushes to follow the swathe of destruction made by his powers.

Freddy backs him up with a more cautious approach as the illusory mist begins to swirl around them with a greater intensity.

“Kas, I think you better come here.” the mage whispers into his commlink. Freddy’s timing is perfect, the instant he sends his message he is thrown off his feet by a spell he can barely understand, let alone counter.

Tyson and Freddy writhe on the cold ground as thick tendrils of mist bind the Leafs together, burning them and sapping their strength. It is an agony. Neither hero can speak beyond wailing or move more than a desperate flail, flopping like fish left choking on a dock.

The mists all coalesce into the dire bonds holding the Leafs and a thin bedraggled creature steps out from behind a stop sign. Grotesque fingers reach out from long hands to pet the two captured heroes. A flash of light catches the creatures attention and it turns to watch a magical portal opening a few meters away.

Kasimir Kaskisuo has been an apprentice mage for a long time. He has worked very hard to prepare himself for the moment when his magic might finally be called upon. That moment has come. Eager to prove himself the young mage steps out of the portal and begins to weave his wards. With a gesture the mysterious and terrifying mage sweeps aside Kas’ magic and traps him within the swirling mass of misty tentacles. His screams join those of his teammates.

Despite being placed in a nearly impossible situation Kas can’t help but blame himself for not doing more. It is as unfair as it is impossible to avoid. If he survives he vows to learn and come back stronger than ever.

The thin mage grins, the smile stretching around nearly to the back of its head. A long blue ropey tongue slips out to lick along the extended lips leaving a glistening trail of black saliva.

“Pretty pretty morsels.” Its whispered voice is part croak, part giggle. It raises a finger and the nail grows to a long sharp point. The mage smiles as it considers which Leaf to look inside first. The unmistakable retort of a shotgun blast ends the creatures musings and sends chunks of it’s overly large head splattering on to the bewildered Leafs.

Pittsburgh Penguin, Evegeni Malkin steps out from behind the still standing corpse and reloads the twin barrels of his shotgun.

“0010011100 0010110110 1101.” Whatever Evgeni says in binary code to the Leafs as they stagger to their feet amuses the cyborg to no end. Laughing he turns away leaving the Leafs to enjoy their aftermath.

Once a year I take a break from my regular narrative style to impart this important message.

Fuck Boston.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been seeking to control the powers of the National Heroes League. The battle to save the planet is on, and it is fierce.

A huge stone giant lumbers through the Hudson River. The Captain: John Tavares and Morgan Rielly float behind it on an icy brown platform, the result of John’s super chill. Morgan studiously ignores what is trapped beneath his feet. It’s almost as if by locking it in ice John has stolen the rivers ability to hide it’s filth. Morgan vows to burn his boots when he gets home then puts away the distraction.

It will only be a few minutes before the giant wades to the opposite bank and wreaks havoc.

“Can you freeze it in place?” Morgan asks.

John doesn’t answer more than clenching his jaw and digging deep. The ice forms but it isn’t fast enough. With ponderous steps that reverberate through the continent the giant is not troubled at all by the water it strides through, frozen or otherwise. Morgan can only watch as the chaotic titan gets closer and closer to the helpless people of New York.

There is a sonic boom and the giant’s chin flies back as if it were punched in the jaw. It staggers back a step and shakes its head, scanning the shore for whatever hurt it. The air cracks again with a sound like thunder but amplified like the thunder was especially angry. The giant doubles over and hugs its belly as it falls. A small tidal wave spreads out to crash against the banks of the river. The ice floe the Leafs are on pitches wildly as the river finds its new level.

Only the giants head can be seen above the water, whatever hit it knocked it on its stony ass. John reaches out with his super chill again and the water around the giants neck freezes solid. The ice begins to rise out of the river but another thunder clap knocks it off the giants neck and breaks a chip of stone off its nose. The thunder claps come fast and furious and the giants head lolls helpless from side to side until the loudest strike of all cracks it in half. The two lifeless slabs of stone slide into the river and the two Leafs take their hands away from their battered ears.

A small figure flies lazily away from where the ruined stone giant slips to the riverbed. Leo Komorav lands on the dirty ice and greets the Leafs with a handshake.

“Were you two trying to help?” The New York Islanders hero asks. “Cute.”

Leo rockets away, tipping the Leafs into the river.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been seeking to control the powers of the National Heroes League. The battle to save the planet is on, and it is fierce.

Auston Matthews races through the streets of Chicago, little more than a blur to those he passes. Not that the people out this night are paying the racing Maple Leaf any sort of attention. They aren’t even giving any mind to Chicago Blackhawks hero Patrick Kane, which is unusual since the locals have a great deal of love for their champion. This night, however, there is something else taking focus from the two heroes.

A monstrous spectral hound, four headed and forty feet at the shoulder, stalks the Chicago night and terror ripples out in its wake. The beast is searching for something, keeping one of it’s heads sniffing the ground while another is kept up high to sniff the air. The other two heads snarl and snap at anything that gets too close. People, trees, cars, anything, and it is these two heads that have Auston and Patrick occupied.

The Leaf and the Hawk keep pace with the hound, staying just a step or two ahead and clearing the innocents from its path. Auston likes Patrick, every time they work together is a total blast and this time is no exception. It’s hard not to smile as Patrick steps between the hound and a jogger, he flips off the dog then pokes it in the eye and spins the jogger out of harms way. It all happens in between strides, so fast that only Auston can see. His approach is a little more direct. Running at the creatures shoulder, Auston runs forward and punches the beast any time it tries to snap at anyone.

Even through the fun Auston can’t help feeling like something is extra strange about the situation. So far the giant dog has made two circuits around the city and has been punched in the jaw a few hundred times, not to mention poked in the eye and whatever else Patrick has been doing to amuse himself. Yet not once has the hound paused in it’s task to so much as snarl at the heroes.

“Maybe we should be trying to stop this thing.” Patrick says, as if reading Auston’s mind.

“Got any ideas?” Auston asks.

“One.” The Hawk summons his astral blade and slips in front of the hound, slicing off the head on the right as he passes to the left.

The hound skids to a halt and turns, finally, to face the irritating heroes.

“So now what?” Auston asks.

The hound lunges before Patrick can reply. Auston leaps above the charging beast while Patrick just charges right back.

“Kill it!” Patrick bellows. His sword gleams in the night as the spectral blood sizzles from the heat of the blade but does not burn away. That same foul ichor seeps from the wound at the hounds neck and is melting everything it falls on.

Patrick and the hound meet in a titanic crash. The Hawk plunges his glowing blade deep into the gushing neck wound and avoids two of the three remaining heads. The third gets a grip on Patrick’s shoulder and starts to shake hard. It’s likely that the hound means to shake Patrick apart, we will never know. Before the hound even moves it’s head back one time Auston lands his own attack.

Trusting that Patrick is going to handle the heads  Auston decides to keep the beast immobile. Gravity gives the Leaf a bit of extra momentum and the hound is completely distracted by Patrick. When Auston slams into the back hip of the creature he shatters ethereal bone, he hits it so hard. He also unleashes his light, sending the beast cartwheeling into the side of a bus. Patrick is thrown clear before impact.

“All yours.” Auston says.

Patrick grins and gives a small nod of thanks before he approaches the now crippled monster. If he feels any pangs of pity for the pathetic beast he does not show it as he methodically slices off the remaining heads.

“That was fun.” Patrick says to Auston as he dismisses his astral sword back to the ether. “Come back anytime.”

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been seeking to control the powers of the National Heroes League. The battle to save the planet is on, and it is fierce.

Jake Muzzin, veered completely into bear form, struggles against the grasping vines that hold him to the ground. His legendary strength still isn’t enough to break free but he refuses to give up. Snarling his rage, the bear can only watch as the drama plays out before him.

A dozen Mitch Marners do battle with a writhing mass of thorny vines that surround the latest red glowing seed of chaos to arrive in our material plane. The Mitches dance between the whipping vines but never seem to get any closer to the seed. Three vines lash around the neck, chest and legs of one Mitch, ripping him to pieces before he can react. A Mitch hacks off one vine with his long knife and splits into two Mitches before hacking at another. One enormous vine rears up and slams into the ground crushing two other Mitches beneath it’s bulk.

There is a red pulse from the boulder and the vines drop, lifeless again, to the cold ground. The Mitches prepare for the next threat but there is only the empty night around them. Two Mitches start cutting at the vines that still hold Jake tight. There is another red pulse and the Mitches all scream in pain.

Jake can only watch in horror as all the Mitches begin a slow and agonizing disintegration. Jake changes back into his human shape and calls out.

“Mitch! Help him!” The Leaf screams over his comm link. “Somebody help!!!”

It is over before the echo of his cry fades away. Where twelve copies of his teammate stood, now there is nothing. Thorns dig deep into Jake’s flesh as he strains against the vines, mindless in his grief. Howling with a wordless fury the Leaf gets his legs under his body and starts to rise.

A detonation rocks the stillness of the night and all the pressure holding Jake down disappears. Where the seed was, now there is only a smouldering crater. Claude Giroux, captain of the Philadelphia Flyers steps out of the wreckage and gives Jake a wink.

“Your welcome, bug guy.” The Flyer says before launching himself back into the air.

Jake doesn’t give his rival much thought. Mitch is gone, and there is no time to mourn.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. All over the continent small seeds of chaotic force have been seeking to control the powers of the National Heroes League. The battle to save the planet is on, and it is fierce.

The Captain flies high over head searching desperately for the seed of chaos controlling the giant attacking his city. John Tavares has only just returned to his city after a long absence and it would not do to have it pulled down around him. His Toronto Maple Leaf teammates are working to slow the giant and save the citizens. The Captain is looking to stop the problem at the source.

The seeds usually like to hide in plain sight and they have gotten better at disguising their telltale red energy pulses. The fact that these seemingly lifeless rocks are learning disturbs John but there isn’t time to worry about that. The invasion is relentless, even when Toronto itself isn’t under attack there are reports of chaotic assaults spread across the continent. At least a pattern has emerged. The seeds only appear in the thirty-one areas that are home to one of the factions of the National Heroes League. It’s not the planet that’s under attack, it’s the heroes.

These thoughts flicker through The Captains mind without landing on his conscious. He scans the rooftops and the alleyways until he finally spots a cardboard box with three guards standing in front of it. Not wanting to play around, John uses his super chill to freeze the guards before he lands beside the box. They are smaller versions of the giant rampaging several blocks away, a conglomeration of trash and accumulated filth given human shape and terrible, terrible breath. With a gesture The Captain swings his staff through the frozen trash monsters, shattering them, then peeks into the box. The seed is under a pile of trash. John pulls back to swing but suddenly he feels something grab his wrists. There is nothing there for John to see, but he is lifted off his feet and slammed against the nearby wall.

Malcolm Subban, his eyes glowing red from the chaotic power that has taken over his mind, walks into the alley with his hands raised. The Las Vegas Golden Knights mage doesn’t say a word, and John knows he is focused almost entirely on keeping his spell up.

“Malcolm, fight it!” John doubts that the seed will not let go of the mage, but his comm link is on. “If your magic still works that means a part of you is still there. You can fight it Malcolm.”

John is spared having to come up with anything else to shout as a familiar blue and white glow precedes the opening of a magical portal behind the Knight. Freddy Andersen steps out of the portal and punches Malcolm in the head. The Maple Leafs mage rarely uses his mundane strength, but sometimes it’s fun to cut loose. John is immediately freed from the Magic binding him and he springs into action. Ignoring the mage brawl behind him, John slams his fists down on the box where the seed hides. Shards of the shattered boulder scatter across the alley. At the alley mouth Freddy helps a dazed Malcolm to his feet.

“That was a really cool spell you used.” Freddy’s respect is genuine. “Maybe you could teach me it sometime. I didn’t hit you too hard did I?