Playoff (Pool) Fever

The Leafs in six.

That’s what I put down in the family hockey pool, so it must be true.

That’s the heart, not the head talking, no doubt about it. But I honestly think we have a tinker’s chance. Funny thing is, I seem to be in the minority. Even the die-hard fans seem convinced the Bruins will walk all over Toronto in this series. They’re looking at the 1-8-1 record Toronto has against Boston in recent years. They’re looking at Phil Kessel’s dismal record against his old team since ‘the trade.’ They’re looking at the physical dominance Boston has enjoyed against us, thanks to players like Chara, Lucic and Thornton.

I think those fans are looking for excuses before the series has even started.

Those numbers are old and tired numbers, just like some of the Bruins. Truth be told, all the games this year were close and if you remember, we won the last encounter. And if you’re looking for a physically intimidating team in 2013, look no further than the Toronto Maple Leafs. And as a final point, Phil Kessel is on fire lately.

So don’t give up on your team so fast, Guido from Woodbridge, or Joe from Oshawa. Have a little faith in the boys in blue. Toronto in six games.

I’m also picking Washington in five games. I’m predicting Ovie has a monster series and Torts has a complete breakdown, throttling New York Post writer Larry Brooks in the process. Easily the most entertaining series in the first round, if we count the post-game press conferences.

The Montreal-Ottawa series is going to be a good one, but I have Montreal in seven. P.K. (Subban, not the penalty kill) will be the difference.

I like what the Islanders have done this year – John Tavares had a legitimate MVP-type season – but Pittsburgh will win, with or without Sid the Kid. Pittsburgh in five.

Out west, Chicago has been the class all year and I don’t see that dynamic changing in the post-season. Up until a week ago I had Minnesota as a bit of a dark horse, but they were horrible down the stretch and nearly missed the playoffs. Still, they have enough to make it interesting. Chicago in six.

I think Detroit gave it all they had just getting to the big dance, apparently for the 300^th year in a row. Anaheim in six games.

Vancouver has had a good year and there are those who think maybe this is their year. Not me. San Jose in six.

The Blues, meanwhile, have got hot at the right time and I think they make short work of the defending champion Los Angeles Kings. St. Louis in five.

As always, this information is for entertainment purposes only. Do not use for hockey pools: it’s only going to work for me.

Oshawa’s Fab Four

It is an unusual trio – an automotive pioneer, a hockey player and a horse – that makes up the Motor City’s Holy Trinity.

Col. Sam McLaughlin, Bobby Orr and Northern Dancer – icons all – have helped cement Oshawa’s place on the national landscape and created a benchmark of excellence for others to try and follow.

I suggest it’s time we add another member to the sacred list: a tiny, perfect academic administrator who, by sheer force of will, changed the course of Oshawa’s future by bringing a university to the city.

I’m not saying Gary Polonsky is going to rival the beloved Colonel Sam at the top of the pantheon, but his contributions to the city are finally allowing us to wean ourselves away from our dependence on Sam’s gift to Oshawa: General Motors. And with the automotive giant slowly but surely divesting itself of its commitment to Oshawa one job-for-life at a time, it’s not a moment too soon.

There’s no question Robert Samuel McLaughlin deserves his place at the top. If not for Col. Sam, we might all be living in Whitby today, so we should thank him for that, at least. Just kidding, Whitby.

It was Sam who moved the family carriage making business from rural Tyrone to Oshawa, and it was Sam who started making cars for the masses – McLaughlin Buicks, to be exact – that eventually led to the formation of General Motors.

Col. Sam became the founding chief of General Motors of Canada and one of the original investors of the Detroit-based parent company, which has been for most of its existence the biggest car maker in the world. Sam’s contributions to business in the 20^th century has been impressive, to say the least.

His contributions to Oshawa have been off the charts. McLaughlin lived to the ripe old age of 101 and his home – Parkwood Estate – is the city’s most popular tourist attraction and a prime location for movie shoots.

He also dabbled in horse racing and his silks graced a couple of King’s Plates. But his best gift to the Canadian horse racing industry came when he sold some land in north Oshawa to E.P. Taylor, leading to the establishment of Windfields Farms and the birth in 1961 of Northern Dancer, the greatest horse in Canadian history.

The Dancer captured the 1964 Kentucky Derby and Preakness Stakes, captivating North American racing fans as he tried to become the first horse since Citation in 1948 to win the U.S. Triple Crown.

His third place finish in the Belmont ended that dream, but he returned to Canada in style by winning the Queen’s Plate by seven and a half lengths before an injury ended his racing career. He was named North America's champion three-year-old colt of 1964, and, naturally, Canadian Horse of the Year.

But if racing fans thought Northern Dancer peaked on the track in 1964, they had no idea the legendary status the horse would achieve in the equine equivalent of the bedroom in the years to follow.

Northern Dancer may have been small in stature, but, well, you know what I mean.

As a stud, Northern Dancer had no peer. His progeny won 147 stakes races and earned more money than any other sire in thoroughbred history, and his influence spread to Europe, Japan and Australia as well as North America.

The demands on his services were so great that he had to be moved from Oshawa in 1969 to finish out his breeding career in Maryland – to be closer to his admirers – and he was the first sire to command a $1 million stud fee, a price that was unheard of at the time and still unmatched today.

Retired from the breeding stall in 1987 at the ripe old age of 26 – that’s Hugh Hefner age for horses – Northern Dancer died three years later and was returned to Oshawa for burial on the Windfields estate.

Just as Northern Dancer was making his name on the race track in 1964, Bobby Orr – the greatest defenceman in NHL history and, some would say, the best player EVER, was creating his own legend in Oshawa with the Generals.

The Boston Bruins, which owned the Generals at the time, had to buy the entire Parry Sound minor hockey organization just to ensure they could get their hands on Orr, and the teenage sensation lived up to his end of the bargain in Oshawa, leading the Gens to a Memorial Cup appearance – their first since the war years – in 1966.

As a pro, Orr re-wrote the record books, becoming the first d-man to win a scoring title (he won two) and revolutionizing the position.

Orr won three consecutive Hart Trophies as the league’s best player, won two Stanley Cups (earning playoff MVP honours both times) and reeled off eight consecutive Norris Trophies as the best defender in hockey.

The photo of Orr flying through the air after he scored the Cup-winning goal in overtime in 1970 is acknowledged as the most famous in hockey history.

Bad knees ended Orr’s career prematurely, but even with his joints held together with duct tape and crazy glue he managed to shine on the international stage. In his only Team Canada appearance in 1976 (he missed the ’72 series to injury) Orr was named the most valuable player of the tournament.

Forced to retire in 1979, Orr was inducted into the Hall of Fame at the age of 31, the youngest to be enshrined.

Gary Polonsky’s accomplishments in Oshawa since he arrived to take the President’s post at Durham College were considerably lower key than McLaughlin, Orr and Northern Dancer, but no less important, especially as the city prepares for an uncertain future.

When he got here in 1988 he was aware that Oshawa was the largest city in Ontario without a university. He also knew that the province hadn’t created a new degree-granting institution since Brock University set up class in St. Catharines in 1964.

No worries, says Gary.

It took a few years of schmoozing, cajoling and arm-twisting, but the dream became a reality when the University of Ontario Institute of Technology – yah, it’s a mouthful, but they were going for a MIT theme – accepted students for the first time in the fall of 2003.

The school has revitalized Oshawa and Durham Region and has helped change the Motor City from a blue collar town to a multi-cultural city of many collars. And when the school started spreading its footprint into Oshawa’s inner core, the downtown was given the boost it desperately needed.

Polonsky, who now chairs the Canada Science and Technology Museum Board of Trustees, was always quick to share credit for his accomplishments with others – notably his staff and the students of Durham College/UOIT – but we know better.

When he retired in 2006, having served as top man for both post-secondary institutions for four years, they had to find two people to replace him. ‘Nuff said.

Playoff Bound

OMG, OMG! The Leafs are headed to the playoffs!

My tongue is ever so slightly in my cheek with that lede, but it’s understandable that Leaf fans would be excited after Saturday’s victory over Ottawa; a win that clinched a spot in the second season for the first time since 2004.

We could have qualified through the back door with a couple of Winnipeg losses – after nine long years, Toronto would have taken their playoff pleasure any way they could get it – but we did it the traditional way with an emphatic 4-1 triumph over the Senators.

Nine years. That’s the longest post-season drought in the club’s history. My youngest son had just turned two: Jake has no memory of his favourite team ever making the playoffs.  In fact, there’s a whole generation of young fans who have no idea what it’s like to get invited to the dance.

That all changed Saturday night. Finally the kids have something to cheer about.

Us old guys too, the ones like me who remember the good ol’ days. I have actually been alive for four Leaf Stanley Cup parades, though I only remember one: ’67.

So while we finally ended this nagging playoff drought – every other team has made the playoffs at least once since 2004 – we still have that Stanley Cup bugaboo to deal with. When Chicago won the Cup two years ago it ended their record of futility at 49 years, leaving Toronto as the new leader in that dubious category. It will be 46 seasons this spring.

But one thing at a time. You gotta get to the dance to have a shot at the big prize, and anything can happen in a short playoff series.

One thing’s for sure: this place will be rockin’ next month. Especially so if we draw the Habs in the first round, which is how it's looking right now. Can you imagine?

The buzz when the Leafs are on top is incredible, so let’s hope we can have an epic run this year to create some memorable moments for today’s generation of Leaf fans.

I remember Lanny McDonald’s overtime winner in 1978 against the Islanders – a seminal moment for my high school days – and Nikolai Borschevsky’s OT winner in 1993 against Detroit. There were the two trips to the final four in the early 90s during Pat Burns’ days behind the bench and two more semi-final appearances in the late 90s when Pat Quinn coached the team.

There was Dougie and Wendell; there was Domi and Sundin. And there was success.

Now we have Kadri and Kessel; Lupul and JVR. And James Reimer, who will be the key to any success we might enjoy this spring.

 “For periods of time there’s been a lot of sand kicked in the face of the (hockey fans) of Toronto,” Leafs coach Randy Carlyle told the media after the playoff clinching victory. “Hopefully this gives them something to stand up and cheer for.”

I’m ready.

Fly Like a Bird

I was in north Pickering the other day and I saw something I’ve never seen before: a Canada Goose nesting in a tree.

The nest was about fifteen feet off the ground in the crotch of an oak, just a stone’s throw from the Pickering-Uxbridge Town Line, and the female was settled in nicely in the nest while the male was dive-bombing any and all vehicles driving by.

It was quite the sight and the nesting pair was the talk of the township, with the over-under on how long the male could go on like this before he ended up a splat on some truck’s windshield set at a week.

I got so excited after seeing them I was all set to email Margaret Carney, who writes a nature column for Oshawa This Week, to tell her of my scoop. And then I googled ‘Canada Goose nesting in tree’ and discovered that while it may be uncommon, it’s hardly rare (a coyote/wolf territory adaption, perhaps?), and there are several YouTube videos available for viewing.

Sorry Margaret. I guess I got ahead of myself.

But it was still very cool and it served as a reminder on how awesome close encounters between birds and mankind can be.

I’ve written in this space before about my relationship with Canada Geese – it was a 99 per cent true Pizza Dude Tale (The Goose, 02/01/13) – but those experiences have paled in comparison to some of my other encounters with avian life.

There was the time last year on another lonely side road in north Pickering when we crested a hill and caught up to a trio of airborne Wild Turkeys. We matched speed exactly and for three or four seconds the turkeys were in our windshield, mere inches from my face, before they veered off into the forest.

I’ve also had some particularly memorable moments with Snowy Owls – the arctic bird that ventures south only when the lemming population up north crashes – thanks to my reporting career. The first time was in Kenora, when I got a call from a resident who had found an injured Snowy and was nursing it back to health in his home.

Having an owl with a four-and-a-half wingspan and talons the size of daggers swoop over your head in the confined space of an attic is something I won’t soon forget.

My last meeting with a white owl was even more unforgettable. Graphic, too, so the squeamish may want to look away.

This encounter was in Pickering – a very rare sight this far south – and it was the result of a call from the maintenance guy for a strip plaza at Liverpool Road and Highway 2. “There’s an injured owl on the roof here,” he said. “I think his wing is broken. Do you wanna come take a picture?”

Sure. Why not. Perqs of the job, no?

So we climbed onto the roof – and sure enough, there’s a Snowy with a crooked wing and blood all over his feathers. So I started walking towards him, snapping shots as I went. When I got within fifteen feet or so he decided that was close enough and abruptly flew away. That’s when I discovered the blood – and the crooked wing – wasn’t his. It used to belong to a seagull, which lay headless and very much dead on the roof’s graveled surface.

I know, right? Gross. But still very awesome.

I also remember the first time I saw a Bald Eagle, on my first full day living in Kenora. I had to pull over so I could take in her majestic beauty.

The meetings that are etched in my mind are not just with big birds capable of clawing my eyes out, either. Small is remarkable, too.

The Chickadee is a species that holds a special place in my heart. If you’ve been to Lynde Shores Conservation Area in Whitby, you’ll know the feeling when the little birds fly down to feed out of your hand.

Just magical.

I can sit a listen to a Cardinal call for his mate all morning, or watch a flock of Juncos – slate-coloured sparrows that only come south in the winter – mill about beneath a feeder ‘till the cow(birds) come home.

The call of a Common Loon, the steely gaze of a Great Blue Heron, the buzzzz of a Ruby-throated Hummingbird in flight, the splash of a Belted Kingfisher at the end of a power dive, the sight of a Red-breasted Nuthatch climbing down a tree trunk or a Brown Creeper climbing up, the sheer beauty of a Scarlett Tanager.

All these moments give me pause and serve to remind me of my place in the world. They help keep me grounded, while allowing me to dream that I can one day fly high like a bird up in the sky.

Metaphorically speaking, anyway.

Marathon Madness

Why?

It’s what we ask after any act of senseless violence. It’s what we ask after any tragedy that we can’t explain or rationalize.

Sometimes there aren’t any answers. And we have to live with that.

The Boston Marathon was rocked by a pair of explosions near the finish line yesterday as some of the more than 27,000 runners were finishing the race. Three people, including an eight year-old boy, were killed in the blasts and hundreds were injured, many seriously.

The blasts occurred about ten seconds apart in a crowded viewing area in the city’s downtown Copley Square, turning a scene of jubilation into one of chaos, blood and screams.

The bombs were crudely made, but unspeakably deadly, making this horror a terrorist attack, without question. But whether this is another 9-11 event – God forbid – or a homegrown act of terrorism, no one knows at this point.

We do know that first responders sprung into action very quickly and should be commended for their heroism. We do know that at an event such as this – an outdoor, free public event watched by more than half a million people – it is not possible to prevent every nutbar with a crude bomb in his backpack from putting citizens in peril.

It is the price we pay for a free society.

The people of Boston, like the citizens of New York a dozen years ago, are resilient. One runner who had finished the race just before the explosions said he would not be scared off by terrorism.

"Whoever did this is trying to break people's spirits, but it's not going to happen," 33 year-old Arkady Hagopian told the Huffington Post, who added that is “definitely” running again next year.  "It only brings people closer."

Bostonians stepped up in other ways as well, as a tweet from the local Red Cross reveals: Due to the generosity of our donors we don't need blood at this time. Please schedule for a future donation http://redcrossblood.org  #marathon

I’ll leave the end of this blog by quoting my friend Don, who posted this status on Facebook:

There are bad people out there. But seeing how the city has responded and reacted tells me there's WAY more good people out there than bad people. We out-number them. And we always will. Bad doesn't win. In the history of mankind, it never has. It didn't win 1,000 years ago. It didn't win 100 years ago. And it won't today.

There's always going to be bad. But go to sleep knowing there's always going to be more good.

Amen to that.

Restless at Rogers Centre

“If this all-out experiment flops, I see an end to this franchise coming.”

I think it’s pretty clear the natives are restless in Blue Jay land. Pissed off might be a better word and if the post above is any indication, they’re in a state of panic as well.

But we’re only though one-eighteenth of a long season and the poster’s handle is Fullofit, so maybe it’s a little early to write this team off. But damn! The bloom came off this rose in a hurry, didn’t it?

Of the Jay’s four major off season acquisitions, only Jose Reyes, with a .400-plus batting average, is playing up to expectations. The three prize pitchers picked up this summer with so much fanfare – R.A. Dickey, Mark Buehrle and Josh Johnson – have been awful.

The collective starting staff of the Jays has pitched just 42 2/3 innings and have put up an embarrassing 7.59 ERA, by far the worst in the American League. The team is dead last in the majors hitting with runners in scoring position and they’re striking out at an alarming rate. Defence – especially in the middle of the infield – has been godawful and the bullpen has been almost as bad as the starting pitching.

More worrisome has been the breakdown in fundamentals. Routine balls are misplayed, cutoff men are missed, fly balls are dropped. And don’t get me started on the base running gaffes.

(Deep breath)

There’s loads of time to right the ship, of course. We’re just nine games in.

Joey Bats is back and Brett Lawrie will be soon. The hitting will come around – it’s too good of a lineup for it not to – and I have to believe the bullpen will start registering some key outs in short order or Alex Anthopoulos will be looking at finding some pitchers who can.

As for the errors – both literal and mental – it’s a safe bet manager John Gibbons is working on improving that side of the game. He’d better, because a problem with fundamentals has to reflect on him more than a bit.

That leaves the starting pitching as an area of concern. There’s an adjustment for National League pitchers adapting to the A.L. way of things, so I have faith Johnson and Buehrle will get their groove back. As for Dickey, we can do little more than hold our breath that he will regain mastery of his mysterious (even to him) knuckleball.

Dickey, the reigning NL Cy Young Award winner, took the city by storm when he arrived in Toronto. Not every ballplayer climbs Kilimanjaro, reads C.S. Lewis novels and raises money and awareness for global charities and Torontonians fell in love with him very quickly.

But his earned run average is 8.44, his last outing was a short one and he was booed as he left the field. So if Dickey wants to feel that love return, he’s going to have to start winning some games, beginning with his next start tomorrow night.

I have faith, but I’m not sure everyone does. I was at Chapters the other day and I saw Dickey’s autobiography, Wherever I Wind Up: My Quest for Truth, Authenticity and the Perfect Knuckleball, prominently displayed near the front of the store.

With a 20 per cent off sticker.

I asked the clerk if that was a promotion, or was the book on sale because in his first two starts as a Jay he has sucked. She said “the first thing” but I’m not sure I believe her.

Reload time for Generals

And that’s a wrap for the 2012-13 edition of the Oshawa Generals, a season that started with such promise but came to crashing end last night at the GMC.

The Barrie Colts finished the four game sweep of the Eastern Conference semi-finals on a rainy Tuesday evening in Oshawa with a 4-2 victory, but the killing blow actually came during a span of six minutes and twenty seconds at the end of Game 1 last Wednesday in Barrie.

That was when the Generals, holding a 3-1 lead over the Colts at the Barrie Molson Centre and seemingly imposing their will on the Lake Simcoe squad, let it slip away. It started when Steve Beyers scored against the run of play withy 4:52 to play to narrow the deficit to 3-2 and then, after an ill advised slashing penalty, Zach Hall scored the equalizer with just over three minutes remaining.

Hall then won it for the Colts 1:18 into the extra frame.

The Generals, who had taken out Niagara in five games in the first round and looked good doing it, never recovered and went down rather meekly three games later.

The Generals were one of the pre-season favourites in the OHL and were still nationally ranked after Christmas. A mid-season swoon – injuries, suspensions to key players and Team Canada call-ups all played a part – distanced them from the big boys, but a late season charge allowed them to almost catch Barrie for the second seed in the conference and energized the squad entering the playoffs.

Then it was vengeance time as Oshawa faced Niagara, the team that eliminated the Generals the past two seasons.

No problem, said DJ Smith’s team, and the Oshawa fans started to dream a bit. Maybe, they mused, this is the year.

Now the organization is left wondering about the future. With a lot of firepower up front not likely to return in captain Boone Jenner, big Tyler Biggs and the two Scotts – Laughton and Sabourin – the Generals are probably looking at a rebuild, with an eye on 2017.

That seems to be the best opportunity for Oshawa to try a win a bid to host the Memorial Cup, something that hasn’t been held in the Motor City since we held the tournament in 1987 in the old Civic Auditorium.

Oshawa put together a good bid for the 2008 Memorial Cup, with the brand new General Motors Centre as the venue and superstar-in-waiting John Tavares as the drawing card, but lost to the City of Kitchener.

Some say Kitchener threw more guaranteed cash on the table. Others whisper that the abandoned Genosha Hotel and the equally derelict Alger Press building – both within a stone’s throw of the GMC – conspired to influence the selection committee.

The Generals do have a chunk of their defence returning and a trio of young forwards – Cole Cassels, Michael Dal Colle and Bradley Latour – coming back, but I don’t see the team as a serious contender for next year.

So let’s shoot for 2017. The Alger Press building is now a retro-cool UOIT building and maybe – just maybe – that’s enough time for the City to find a buyer for the Genosh.

We can always dream, anyway.

Go Gens!