Alright, Leafs Nation, bare good morning, if you can even call it that. Mans barely slept, styll, just replaying that absolute mess of a game in my head. We go into Montreal, the one place you absolutely CANNOT be giving away points, and what do we do? We drop a 3-1 stinkbomb against the Canadiens. Eighteen shots, you heard me right, *eighteen* shots. That's a rec league total, fam. Kapanen gets one in early, then Danault pots another before the first period is even done. Down two-nil to the Habs on the road? Yeah, that's just a classic setup for disaster, ahlie?
We got a little flicker of hope, I guess, when Willy Nylander finally buried one in the second, off a nice feed from Cowan, but that was it. That was the extent of our offensive output for sixty minutes. Price, their goalie, wasn't even spectacular, mans just had to stand there and watch us fire pucks into his chest. Then Evans seals it with an empty-netter at 19:32 in the third. It wasn't even a nail-biter, it was just… deflating. No urgency, no fire, just a whole lot of nothing. This ain't the squad that's supposed to be making a run, this is just a team floating.
Now, where does this leave us? We're 27-27-11, 65 points, sitting ninth in the Wildcard race. Ninth! We're not even in a playoff spot, and we're losing to the Canadiens with eighteen shots on net. The last ten? A brutal 2-6-2. The city this morning, mans, it's just quiet. You can feel the doubt creeping in, even though we always believe. We got some tough games coming up, and if we play like this, it's gonna be a long, painful spring. We need answers, and we need them yesterday.
Leafs Nation — we ride til we die, styll.