Читать книгу Hope and Heartbreak in Toronto. Life as a Maple Leafs Fan онлайн

47 страница из 85

The sight was a perfect reminder of what we had been subjected to for all those years before he was forced to don a helmet. His hair was immaculate, the sheen of gel visible even to those in the 300 level. The mould of his head looked like someone had placed an old Butch Goring helmet and crazy-glued it to his cranium.

Fraser juggled his helmet in his hands — it looked as if he was doing it to the beat of the music playing — before donning his chapeau for the final period.

Fraser was scarcely heard of again as far as the Leafs were concerned, working his final game at the ACC the following April without so much as a peep in the way of official recognition. Not recognizing a long-serving official in his final game in a marquee building was a rarity, but in this case it was completely the right thing, given the anger Fraser still elicits.

But, for me, there was one final indignity. Eleven months later, the Leafs were playing a road game in Philadelphia on October 23, 2010, a Saturday night. The Leafs’ 4–0 start that fall had come crashing down, and they were never really in the game against the Flyers, eventually losing 5–2, their third consecutive setback. With Mrs. Robinson and the kiddies safely tucked in to bed, I’d gone downtown to meet a friend. The scene around Front Street was clearly missing the remnants of the hockey crowd that typically added some spice to the atmosphere.