The first thing you might be thinking is that the Curse of Vesa Toskala is thankfully over. That’s what I thought on the morning of January 31st; that’s what I thought after Giguere posted consecutive shutouts to start his career as a Leaf; that’s what I thought when we resigned Gustavsson.

 And yet, almost a full season after the Great Purge, we have yet again tragic collapses in net, recurring mysterious groin issues, sub-.900 save percentages, an abysmal PK, and a losing record. These were supposed to be things of the past.

Though Brett Lebda is a truly wonderful scapegoat, his crapulence cannot, to my mind, account for the woes we’ve experienced this season. My theory: Vesa Toskala has struck from beyond the grave (of his NHL career). To exact revenge against Burke and the Leafs for taking away the last starting job he’ll ever see this side of the Atlantic, Vesa Toskala has made sure that though he left in body, his foul, murse-loving spirit lingers like a stain in the Leafs’ locker room. For all we know, that murse wasn’t a fashion faux pas but a witchcraft satchel. His ineptitude did seem otherworldly, almost mystical. I still have yet to figure out how he magically transformed Toni Lydman’s dump in into a goal.

 

So this short airing of grievances is dedicated to you, Vesa Toskala. I sincerely hope that you can read English better than the flow of play. The only way I can understand the Leafs’ 2010-11 season is that you’ve put a curse on the club after they ditched you. Worst of all, no one seems to know how to undo the curse. Brian Burke thinks it’s by signing free agents. Ron Wilson thinks it’s by playing Lebda on the wing. I might try kissing small toads and frogs. God knows it makes more sense than putting Kadri in the pressbox.

Accordingly, my grievances are as follows: I hate the fact that January 31st felt like a second Christmas. I hate the fact that Giguere looked promising in the second half of last year’s season. I hate the fact that the Leafs had a winning record after Vesa was shipped out to Anaheim. I hate these things because they managed to trick me into having faith in the 2010-2011 Toronto Maple Leafs. But most of all, I hate Vesa Toskala because without him we were supposed to be better, and we’re not.

So fuck you, Vesa Toskala. For ruining the team that I love, and waiting until I lived in the city to do it. And fuck you Toronto Maple Leafs, for playing like that god awful, glove-hand-like-a-brick, goalie-coach-hating, pouty-mouth, $4-million-dollar-costing poison is still between the pipes.

Clarke MacArthur, for playing hard and punching Spacek in the face, you are exempt.