Number 13, Mats Sundin

In the early and min-nineties, I was quite the devoted fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs. I used to set up shrines to the team in my room when they made the playoffs, and I still hold a grudge against Wayne Gretzky for high-sticking Doug Gilmour in 1993 (don't let anybody in Edmonton know).

However, my interest in hockey started to wane as I became frustrated with the way the game had evolved, specifically the omnipresent hooking and holding which slowed the game down. It didn't help that the Leafs continually stumbled when trying to develop the team: overpaying past-their-prime free agents; continually trading draft picks and prospects for ineffective veterans; and, not giving their own young players any opportunity to develop.

I still followed the team, but perhaps not with the same intensity as I did before. I didn't watch as many regular season games, but I did keep abreast of all the happenings and goings on.

Along came the lockout which brought with it many rule changes that I was happy with. However, the salary cap meant that the Leafs could no longer cover their mismanagement by throwing money around.

And then I moved to Edmonton, and for the first time, the fan of a visiting team. Surprisingly, this has revitalized my interest, at least in some part because I am no longer inundated with Leafs news at all hours of the day. I actually have to put effort into my fandom, and better yet, I don't have to hear about every tiny little nugget of irrelevance even tangentially related to someone on the team.

And maybe that is the only reason for this blog post. Perhaps my distance has allowed me to escape the Mats-fatigue which I'm sure has descended on quite a few Leafs fans.

But then again, that was quite the standing ovation last night, particularly considering the circumstances under which he left.

Through all my trials and tribulations with the Leafs and hockey in general, Mats was the one constant. I would argue that he was so consistent, that Leafs fans took him for granted until perhaps the last few years of his tenure.

In some sense, Mats was a puzzle. He was a huge body whose presence on the ice was always felt. And yet somehow he did so in an unassuming way. His goals were rarely of the spectacular variety, even as they kept piling up. And when he or someone else on the team scored, he merely flashed a smile and raised his arms - and sometimes, not even that.

Mats' consistency was remarkable. From 1995-2008, he scored between 72 and 83 points all but one time (the 94 point 2001-2002 season). He did this by making his teammates better, even when he had absolute scrubs playing alongside him.

And nobody kept their emotions in check like Mats. He made sure that personally, he never got too caught up in the highs and lows of the moment, and the team followed his lead. I always identified with this aspect of his personality, and cherished his steady hand steering the ship.

But the fiasco in the last year was concerning. I bought his line about not wanting to be a rental player, and the importance of being with a team from September to June. At the time, I thought it made perfect sense. It has to be slightly bittersweet to win a cup as a rental player. Sure, your blood and sweat will go into finishing the job, but you joined the team when they were on top - you didn't have to put up with the ups and downs of the marathon that is the season.

I imagine it is similar to the difference between a fan who has put up with years of hardship only to see their faith rewarded, versus a bandwagon fan who jumps on for the last leg. The bandwagon fan will enjoy the experience, but to whom will it taste sweeter?

But then Mats hemmed and hawed for a long time, and joined Vancouver midseason. Suddenly, I was forced to question the words and the character of a person whom I had admired since I was eleven or twelve. He said that his time in Toronto meant a great deal to him, but could we take his word?

As everyone knows, last night he returned to Toronto as a Canuck, and while all week I tried to pretend it was no big deal, yesterday, around 6:30 eastern time, I started getting nervous. As the big guy came out onto the ice, I dare say I pacing in my apartment. I'm not sure whose reaction I anticipated more: the crowd, or Mats'.

A smattering of boos whenever he touched the puck was not unexpected. Neither was the standing ovation when they played the video tribute. But the visibly emotional Mats was.

I did not know what to expect, but his reaction did mean a lot, even as brief as it was. His time as a Maple Leaf did mean as much to him as it did to the rest of us, if not more. Nevermind the history of the franchise, and the cliched nonsense about "what it means to have that logo on your sweater". Simply put, even if the city of Toronto was reluctant at first to accept their Swedish captain, by the end of his tenure, he had connected with the community. That meant something to him, and it meant something to us.

I love the story of how during the ovation he asked the linesman to drop the puck because he had had enough. The chink in his armor had been revealed, but it was time to refocus and get back to business. His new team needed him to steady the ship because they had a game to win. Typical Mats.

I look forward to the day when Sundin's 13 will be hanging from the rafters.
And since the Leafs are pretty much done, I think I might have to throw in my support for a Vancouver cup run this year.