It’s September 26, 2026, and the hockey world is spinning through another round of preseason exhibitions. While there are 14 games on the schedule today—including matchups like PIT at BUF and CGY at EDM—I find myself staring at the wall rather than the screen. It’s preseason, folks. These games don't count, much like the optimism I’ve tried to manufacture every autumn for the last few decades. Looking back at yesterday, September 25, we saw the Rangers handle the Islanders 6-1, while Washington edged Boston 3-2. Good for them, I suppose.
Down here in Toronto, we’re still stuck in that familiar cycle of ‘cautious hope.’ We’ve analyzed every free-agent signing and dissected every roster move, wondering if this is finally the year the Stanley Cup returns to the 6ix. It’s been 59 years since we last hoisted the trophy, and yet, here I am, still wearing the sweater, still waiting, and still prepared to be disappointed. The league is gearing up for real action, but until the games matter in the standings, I’ll be here, acting as the self-appointed analyst of our collective suffering. Another year, another dream, same old Maple Leafs.