I’m not in Montreal today.
I’m at home, in East York – which is a sleepy part of Toronto within easy walking distance of all this city’s finest Greek restaurants.
I’m eating boiled soup noodles, and gazing out the window at lush green leaves and a gray, yucky Thursday.
[PRBREAK][/PRBREAK]
I’m trying to put into words how it feels to know I will soon be leaving my home, going out into yuckiness, to stand in a bar and watch my favourite domestic soccer team try to win tonight by four clear goals.
I’m now taking a moment (for those of you just joining us) to explain that the Canadian men’s professional soccer sponsorship – the Voyageurs Cup – is a double round-robin tournament that concludes in just a few hours at Stade Saputo in Montreal.
I’m adding an obligatory shot at Stade Saputo’s security guards, who seem congenitally incapable of noticing the bad behavior of anyone wearing blue.
I’m coming back to the main point that Toronto FC – whom I cover, cheer for and lament – have squandered so many gold-plated, gilt-edged, yummy-yummy-yummy-I’ve-got-goals-in-my-tummy scoring chances in this competition, they now must score four more than they concede tonight.
I’m adding that, if they don’t, they will watch a minor-league opponent claim Canada’s lone place in the CONCACAF Champions League for the second year on the trot.
(I’m declining to explain what CONCACAF stands for.)
I’m hoping you understand how huge and toxic an embarrassment this would be – even though both Montreal (who won it last year) and Vancouver (who stand to clinch tonight) are decent soccer teams, and normally I would be delighted for either one of them.
I’m a TFC fan just at the moment. I’ll be a down-the-middle journalist when it’s over.
I’m afraid to have any expectations at all for this evening. But they come. Wave on wave, the expectations come.
I’m certain this plight tonight is the focusing point this misfiring Toronto attack force has needed all season. That Dwayne DeRosario will show up with his A-game, and whatever combination of TFC goalhounds grace the pitch will get more than enough chances to score four goals.
I’m also grindingly aware of leaky-bucket slop-job Toronto’s back four has almost always been. Newcomer Nick Garcia was just fine in the win over New York Product Placement, but tonight is a whole different level of nightmare.
I’m imagining a bar full of fans. I’m imagining Toronto scoring. The first goal settles folks down, but is not – in itself – enough to ignite hope. Then comes the second. Yeeps! What if Pablo Vitti finally, actually, unbelievably scores his first TFC goal?
I’m thinking the third comes late – 80th minute, or some such. Hope’s alive and flying at that point. Maybe newcomer Ali Gerba comes on as a late sub – and maybe he bazookas the fourth goal home on the ragged edge of stoppage time.
I’m sure you know where I’m going with this. Montreal – whose thrilling CONCACAF run was snuffed out in February when they conceded four second-half goals in Mexico (two in stoppage time) – pour forward, set up a shot, it bounces off somebody, wobbles crazily towards the top corner, Toronto goalie Stefan Frei, wrong-footed, sees it, reacts, lunges, stretches …
I’m not even able to finish that paragraph.
I’m hoping whatever happens tonight won’t be that painful.
I’m wishing I were in Montreal right now – and I’m ever so glad that I’m not.
Onward!