For Christmas

...I'd like a Leafs win. Yes, it's early, but it's all I really want this holiday. Honestly, the real gift for myself, Melissa and the cats - and something that'll blow ANY present right out of the water - is still to come. According to Doctor Schmidt, it should be here by late February. I think it's coming sooner. One look my lovely delivery system and it seems (and must feel) like this long awaited gift to end all gifts could be on our doorstep any day now. Poor thing. Upon arrival it'll be automatically indoctrinated into this culture of pride and pain that millions, including myself, Melissa and even the bloody cats are entrenched in. Poor thing. She'll have no choice. But if that day of greatness ever comes, we'll be geniuses... especially in the eyes of those we so forcefully ushered into the fold. We'll be worn out, broken down and most likely shocked into delusion, but geniuses none-the-less.

Anyway, the only indulgence me wants pre-25th, pre late Februaryth, the one I'm counting on Ron Wilsonclaus to hook us up with on this eve of the eve: a "dubya". But understand, I don't want one of those hard working Leafs losses. Nope. Nor will I accept one of those measly consolation points from extra play they've been known to offer in absence of the real thing. Just a win. Only a win. That's all I desire. Tonight. Against a beatable team. The Islanders. On Long Island.

But of course, these are the Leafs I'm making this bold request of.

Try as they might, they don't usually deliver. But again, on like every occasion when following this team, I won't hold my breath. I will however hold out hope... like always. Maybe tonight? Maybe tonight.

Oh, the poor thing.

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