JaredFromLondon gets the Origins series started where I suspect most will: Dear Old Dad.
This story starts (for me at least) in a little tri-city slice called Kitchener. At the tender age of 5, I was a huge hockey fan, but hadn't developed a taste for a particular team yet. Instead of watching games with my father, I was usually out playing road or pond hockey with my mates until bed time. That didn't give much time for the Leafs to take a hold of me. Then one day, out of the blue, I noticed my father wearing a strange yet wondrous, Blue Maple Leaf hat. I queried "Father, is that thine most favouritist ice hockey club?"
"Yes, I doth been a fan of yonder Maple Leafs of Toronto for nigh on four score"
And as the mind of a 5 year old works when his father says something is the best I retorted "then tis mine as well"
From that point on, everything hockey became everything Blue and White, I wanted posters, shirts, hats, flasks, anything with that magnetic Maple Leaf adorning it. I also began to watch real live NHL games on the TV. After the first one I was hooked. Iafrate's bald spot and Alan Bester's five hole could not get me to turn away. I was forever and hopelessly ever addicted.
My addiction culminated in the infamous 93 playoff run. Since then I get withdrawal if I miss one game, the shakes if a trade happens and I don't know about it and blinding rage when someone dares question my loyalty to this team.
Years of this madness have turned me into the lovable weirdo of London that you have all come to know and wonder what the hell is wrong with.