Toronto Mike'd: The Official Toronto Mike Podcast - Every Spring A Parade Down Bay Street, Vol. 2: Toronto Mike'd #1169

Episode Date: December 13, 2022

In this 1169th episode of Toronto Mike'd, Mike shares the second instalment of Every Spring A Parade Down Bay Street featuring David Shoalts, Gare Joyce, Liam Kelly, Gerry Hall and Toronto Mike. Toronto Mike'd is proudly brought to you by Great Lakes Brewery, Palma Pasta, Yes, We Are Open, The Advantaged Investor, Canna Cabana, StickerYou, Ridley Funeral Home and Electronic Products Recycling Association.

Welcome to episode 1169 of Toronto Mic'd. Proudly brought to you by Great Lakes Brewery. Order online for free local home delivery in the GTA. StickerU.com. Create custom stickers, labels, tattoos, and decals. Palma Pasta. Fresh, homemade Italian pasta and entrees. The Yes, We Are Open podcast.

A Moneris podcast production. The Advantage Investor podcast from Raymond James Canada. RecycleMyElectronics.ca. Committing to our planet's future means properly recycling our electronics of the past. Ridley Funeral Home. Pillars of the community since 1921. Canna Cabana.

The lowest prices on cannabis. Guaranteed. And Sammy Cohn Real Estate. Ask Sammy any real estate questions at Sammy.Cohn, K-O-H-N, at ProperlyHomes.ca. About a week ago, I was visited by four gentlemen. One was David Schultz,

who I had just seen at TMLX11 another was Gear Joyce a great FOTM himself Jerry Hall a stand-up comic who I had met previously when he visited with the aforementioned two

and somebody I had never met before a very funny individual named Liam Kelly. These four people had roles in Gare Joyce's second episode of Every Spring,

a parade down Bay Street. Even yours truly had a role. And this Tuesday afternoon, we each cracked open a Great Lakes beer and recorded our parts. Here is the fruits of our labor. The puck is dropped. Kelly at the poofers.

Pofers gets left to Armstrong. Armstrong waits. Takes the shot. Go! A wild finish. The players jump on the ice. Here it is on the wavelength. Police get the face off.

Over to Armstrong from Pofers. He takes aim. One man back. It's in there. Look at this action on the ice. This is CFCA 770 on your radio dial, a wholly owned subsidiary of the Toronto Telegram, the city's newspaper of record. The opinions expressed here are those of the panelists and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of the telegram. CFCA is not responsible for and explicitly disclaims all liability for damages of any kind arising out of use, reference to, or reliance on any information conveyed herein. Though the over-under on games Matt Murray plays this season is 50, so the over looks safer than government bonds. Hello, Torontonians! Whether you're decamped on Ward's Island or stretching our 5,000-watt signal up at Steeles Avenue, if you're living in any one of our countless boroughs,

East York, Leaside, New Toronto, Mimico, or Swansea, among others. And again, a big hello to our fighting men, listening hither and yon on our far-reaching Armed Services Network. A big city welcome to every spring a parade down Bay Street, the radio show, now in its 55th seemingly unimaginable season, now in its 55th seemingly unimaginable season, available citywide to the listeners through the wonder that was Marconi's invention. This is the old redhead, though in all honesty there's a bit of silver mixed in now.

Red York here, the above-the-fold columnist at the Toronto Telegram, the daily newspaper in these parts, the vanguard of the media, in the hub here, and truly a worldwide leader in the fourth estate. Head to Lichtman's, Britnell's, or any other quality bookstore to pick up the updated edition of my bestseller, Every Spring a Parade Down Bay Street, Mine Eyes eyes have seen the glory, 1967 to 2022. Or for bulk orders, directly contact my publishers, Vainglorious Remainders Limited. In this installment of our show, we'll be making a call to Red Fisher up in Montreal, a regular segment where we survey the league to see what out-of-towners are saying about the Leafs.

I certainly sense the excitement in Montreal, the way they rolled out the red carpet in Montreal for the Leafs' season opener at the Forum. Ooh, what a night. The voice you hear there is Bud Hewitt, the latest progeny of the prolific Hewitt clan that has been hockey broadcasting in this handsomest burg for lo these many years. Generations associate hockey with the Hewitt clan's genetic

nasal twang. Respects to you and your family, bud, but a correction here is needed. It's not a red carpet they roll out for the Leafs on their visit to Montreal, but rather a blue and white one. And in an act of sportsmanship and befitting the class of the Leafs organization, the Habs clear out their home team's dressing room and allow our heroes to install themselves there for the evening. It's as if the Montrealers are hoping a little bit of the Leafs' talent and good fortune would rub off on them there, eh? My understanding is that thousands of young Quebecers immerse themselves in the study of

the English language as is necessary to qualify for the lottery that rewards worthy use with the position of honorary stick boys to the Leafs on the champions' visit to the Forum. A similar situation pops up when the Leafs have played dates in the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia. Which brings us to our next panelist, the Baron himself, George Gross. It's fact, in Praha, boys are not only studying English, but also Canadian history required for to be qualified on least benches. I'm sure there have been many grosses so honored. In a manner of speaking, I know.

They haven't been honored? I know they have. Wait a minute. They have or they haven't? I know they have. What? Vought was coaching. I know. Who was coaching? Vought.

Not Watt was coaching. I know. Who was coaching? What? Not what was coaching. I know. He was coaching. Who? What. What was coaching where? What are you talking about? The coach.

Who? What. He was coaching where? In Toronto, I presume that's where. I know. But you just said he was coaching. You didn't tell me who? What? Nor did you tell me who he was coaching. Where? I can only presume in Toronto. I know.

Well, if not in Toronto, where? It was where in Toronto. How did we get here? How was with the Marlies. Mark my word. Mark your word on what? What? The coach. Who coached where? Exactly. What coached where? How was with the Marlies.

Mark my word. Mark your word on what? Not what. How. Mark my word with the Marlies. Gentlemen, this is reductio ad absurdum. Is micro, is macro, I know. You might know, Baron, I sure as heck don't. What did you call it, bud?

Reductio ad absurdum. Uh, um, uh, well, that's precisely why we have a seven-second delay. To catch profanities when someone tries to slip them in a foreign language. Our editor, Ollie Thumbs, will catch that and bleep it out. Not if he studied the classics. Ollie has studied the classics all. All the great Leafs teams. And those who'd rate somewhat better than great.

There are some that you would call transcendent. Well, to the best of my knowledge, they all have roofs over their heads. Some have even been able to purchase homes on their lease wages by picking up a second job. And the youngsters are able to get a room at the College Street Y at a team discount. Out-of-work sports writers from those lesser Toronto papers, long defunct, sleep two to a room there. I believe Damien Cox and Steve Simmons share a basement bachelor and are saving up for a hot plate. Yeah, all the best for them to serve up those sizzling hot takes. Red, I do believe your hearing aid could use a new battery. I said transcendent.

I'm afraid this show this season could be an anus horribilis. Oh, Ollie, can you clip that out? Bud, the last time I heard language like that was when Juliet was on her third martini. We run a family show here. Nothing profane.

No bodily functions. Nothing to do with S-E-X. Or I'll have security remove you from the booth, and I'll have to void your contract. No. No? Yes, I will. No, I said so. What did you say? He was coaching. Who? Vat. Vat was coaching there. What, do you want me to cut, Red? Vought was coaching there. What do you want me to cut, Red?

Let him go. And he retired? Who? Vought. Ollie, are we rolling? If you'd call it that, yes. I'd say let's start all over, but I'm renting this studio at five bucks an hour, and while I'm not going to be wantonly thrown around the proceeds

of the Professional Hockey Writers Association's pension fund... You're on the clock, Red. You're just over a half hour. The way the meter's running, I got you at $3. Can't be right. You know how many takes it took for you just to get through the opening? Jerry Sawchuck had less stitches in his face. We're running live, you know.

We'll catch it in the editing. After the show, we can talk about how radio works, Red. Suffice it to say, in a way you might understand, in radio, there is no rewrite desk. Well, we're off to what I'd describe as a choppy start, but we're through to our first commercial break. Tonight, we're sponsored in part by one of the most beloved and long-running shows in this market,

well past a half century since its debut. Here's my fellow telegram sports scribe, the boy from London town, to tell you about it. I know it's particularly near and dear to your heart. Who? Vought. Vought? Where?

I don't know. Where was Faye? Shagaduck. Who? What? He was coaching? I know. Was coaching. Coach you knew?

Can't remember where. What you say? I don't know. How does this work? Red, I consider it a blessing to have arrived in this colony just three years before the Leafs' epic run. In fact, the first hockey game I ever saw in person, I was covering for the tally, your humble assistant up in the press box. In fact, it was only the second game I'd seen at all, the first being one snowy night watching a set amid a crowd outside a show window at 18's. As much as I have tried to assimilate to life here on the far side of the Atlantic,

I will admit that my thoughts sometimes drift back home. And with a longing at its worst, it grieves me. That's why I make a special appointment each week to watch an half hour of quality entertainment that appears on CFTO. And how about that Philly meat? Dumbbell pull-up, your shorts as well, whatever you do, keep it. Oh yes, whatever you do, keep it. You'll meet some of the happiest people at Canada's friendliest pub, The Pig & Whistle. Join the fun on CTV, where Monday night is pub night. At The Pig & Whistle, the Carlton Show Band, keeping hands clapping and feet tapping, and the man who keeps the good cheer blowing,

innkeeper John Hewer. Join us on the Pig & Whistle, because it wouldn't be the same show without you, okay? The Pig & Whistle Show! Ah, yes. There are lonely nights when another spin of Vera Lynn on the phonograph won't suffice, and the pig and whistle transports me back to the dance halls back home.

If you've never enjoyed it, catch an episode, and you'll be hooked. Thanks for that, old Bob. Well, we're getting to the meat of the show, and now we're going from the Union Jack to the Fleur de Lis. to the show, and now we're going from the Union Jack to the Fleur de Lis. Al, do we have Red Fisher on the line in the 514 area code? My name's Ollie. Sorry, Ollie. You look like Al. Roger. I want Fisher, not Nielsen. Allons-y. Can I speak to Mr. Saul Fisher, please? Hello, bonjour, c'est moi. Saul, it's Red York, calling from the hockey capital of the world. I knew if I waited, someday my night would come.

Your thrill is understandable. Welcome to every spring a parade down Bay Street, Saul. Yes, as they said of Princess Di, this is the stuff that dreams are made of, and we all saw how that came out. Well, the crown might rest uneasily on some heads, Saul, but in Toronto, the fit's quite comfortable. I'm sure the hat sizes in Toronto, the fit is easier because of the softness of the skulls. So we're doing our best to preview the coming season.

Going around the league to hear from the scribes and other markets, answers to the most pressing question in the game. What are people saying about the Leafs? I'm pretty sure the seven-second delay caught that. He's still going. sure the seven second delay caught that. He's still going. What's that about a seven second delay? In Toronto,

the delay is heading towards the seventh decade. So anyways, about Austin Matthews at Chez Paris that night. There was and I said, that's not That night, there was... And I said, that's not sewage treatment.

That's the Leafs showering. The CRTC is on line one, Red. Take a message, Ollie. So, Saul, you seem to be breaking up there, if not cracking up. Hopefully, we have you back on the line, and you're mindful that we do truck and family entertainment here in Toronto. And not that ribald stuff you might be able to get away with in a den of iniquity like Montreal. Yeah, Toronto would seem like it's got a real monopoly on equity. Hey, let's talk about the monopoly that really counts. The leaf-seeming monopoly on the Stanley Cup, which now stands at 55 seasons. I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about.

Actually, I'm not afraid so much as appalled. But no matter. Toronto is evidently beset by a figurative plague of squirrels. Well, there is abundant wildlife in our fair burg. More like mild life. You're presuming the Leafs will win the cup? You're presuming they won't? You should climb out that far on such a thin limb. The Leafs are winning the cup? That's not a thin limb, but a great thick girder.

The one a bunch of high steel workers would sit on for lunch and fall off 40 stories to their death, laughing all the way. If you suggested the Leafs are going to make it past the first round of the playoffs. Mr. Fisher, you are 300 miles down the highway, but effectively light years from the center of the hockey universe, such that it is. I presume someone charged with the hockey beat at the Montreal Gazette would be informed, if not expert,

in matters of the game's history and also current affairs. Tell me, Rhett, exactly when is the last time the Canadians won the Cup? I can't recall. Go ahead, Mr. Fisher. Saul, are you still there? Well, we seem to have lost Red Fisher. Ollie, try to get him back on the line. Alas, when you get out to the nether regions of this country,

anything east of Oshawa, phone service can be pretty spotty at best. Well, we'll get the crack research staff at the Telegram to go through the archives to dig up that point of trivia. When Montreal last won the Cup. I'm not sure they have in modern history. I believe Graham's covered a Cup final in Montreal, but the way he remembers it, I think it was the Maroons. Our family interest in this only goes back as far as the first radio station in Toronto, so I can't be much help on this.

I'm believing Canadians made final once in his Joe Malone scoring winning goal for Quebec Bulldogs. Bulldogs versus Canadians in the final. Must have been one of the warriors when the old least enlisted and won the big one for the free world. History remembers quite fondly Gordy Drillin secured Utah Beach by himself. Only seven men in his entire unit got injured, and that was at a French brothel.

And he still got a parade out of it. And you're telling researchers, Red, make sure they are looking for Stanley Cups with aster out of it. And you're telling researchers, Red, make sure they are looking for Stanley Cups with asterisks attached. Doubtlessly true, Baron. Some sort of mark of competitive dilution if the Habs are contending. What's that?

Gents, I got Carol down at the switchboard on the line. She says she's getting a message that the number she has for Red is no longer in service. You mean the whole phone grid is shut down? Zachary Blue. Presumably a beaver has gnawed its way through the telephone cable serving the Belle province. We'll endeavor to get Red Fisher back on the show at some later date. Although from the looks of it, we might have to communicate with him by telegraph or passenger pigeon. It's pity Fisher's work is easy for me to

read. Yes, understandable, Baron. Red Fisher's prose is directed at those whose English is their second or third tongue. I gotta admit, Mr. York, I so look forward to heading up to Montreal when our heroes go up to there for their game. Warms my heart to see Jean Beliveau don his Maple Leaf sweater and Yvonne Cornway paint his face blue and white. I'll give the Habs credit for showing some class. I'm mystified how, but continue. Red, you have to be impressed with the way they've retired numbers hanging from the rafters at the Forum. Oh, the least they could do, paying tribute to Leafs who've played there. Hanging Mike Pelek's number four up there was only fitting.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Canadians jointly retire the Leafs number four for Pelek and Cody Franson, or maybe it was Corey Cross? I am thinking if we are starting correcting if wrong, it's a show that will never end. Yep, young Ted, it was Pelican, Franson, and Tandem in the forum's rafters as it was Nick Antropoff and Mike Craig for the old number nine. And out of respect for

Toronto's tightly observed cultural policy, the plaques dedicated to Gord Stelic and Jerry McNamara in the forum lobby feature tributes only in English. I think it's about that time for a word from our sponsors. Bud, you can do the honors and it's fitting given the course of our conversation. Thanks, Red.

Folks, I can recommend a few hockey books for the younger set. One pretty decent one, Scrubs on Skates, was penned by Scott Young of the long-defunct Globe and Mail. The book that really has caught my eye and given me no shortage of delight reading to the Hewitt Kinder is the new pictorial offering out of that hockey backwater Quebec. Ross Carrier's The Hockey Sweater. It tells the story from days gone by. A kid from suburban Chicoutimi orders a Teeter Kennedy Leaf sweater, naturally, and from Eaton's catalog, only to be delivered to his grave disappointment a Rocket Richard Habs sweater.

Quite moving. This account of the sense of shame he felt skating on his neighbourhood pad with all his friends draped in the fabled blue and white. This from Morley Callaghan's review on the telly. A colourful evocation of the Leaf's place in the Canadian consciousness and a nation's envy of its host city.

End quote. Available at Britnell's Toronto's First Choice for Better Books, 675 Yonge Street, north of Bloor. Thanks, bud. That sounds like some good, clean family literature. Great to put on the shelf next to my Magna's opium. Every spring, a parade down Bay Street. Mine eyes have seen the glory, 1967 to 2022. Every household inside the city limits should have at least one copy. Glad you find the Bibles, those helpful Gideon's leave in the drawers at the Royal York and the King Eddie. Right, I understand the city school board has put it in the reading list for all grade 13 Canadian history courses for the coming school year. As it should be.

At least there are at once national cultural touchstones and really the finest that this country has to offer. It's true. When post office authority in Praha issues a new stamp, most demand is for Big Ned in Maple Leaf. Let's charge ahead like Northern Dancer into the

homest stretch here. I wonder if we might direct our attention to matters of the present day. What are we to make of the honors that we just heard come down this week from Stockholm? I'll take charge of this one, Mr. York. For those that didn't pick up a copy of the afternoon edition of the Telegram yesterday, well, it might come as a surprise. Certainly unprecedented. That the Nobel Prize Committee has awarded the big prizes in mathematics and economics to the Leafs' GM Kyle Dubas and the Data Analytics Department.

Easy for you to say. The Data Analytics Department for their innovations in capology. I mean, there wasn't even a Nobel Prize in mathematics until Dubas' genius forced the issue. Capology you say, crapology says me. Here now, language gentlemen. Ollie Thumbs, bring that seven second delay up. Great, I didn't catch that one. What's all this about math?

Pardon my pun, but it adds nothing. As is our policy on the show, that's a fine payable to the Professional Hockey Writers Association. Continue, young Ted. I deplore the idea of dragging arithmetic and commerce into the game's pristine aesthetic. The game's such that it's meant to be

played rich in nuance, but science free. There's no equation that you can cook up that ends an ounce of courage to that which pumps through the veins of our hometown heroes. As for money, well, what they say is that it's the source of all evil. Bud, if true, don't sit so close to Red or you'll get struck by lightning. His wallet emits electromagnetic field that sometimes disrupts our radio signal. disrupts our radio signal.

Young Ted Reeve, I have to say that I agree with my esteemed colleague, but on this count, I have long maintained and written at length about the corrosive effect that the mathematic mumbo-jumbo has had on other teams around the league and that the Leafs neatly avoided to their advantage. I speak of the dreaded plus-minus stat. Oh, I have never heard of anything so ridiculous as that. What would possess the Leafs to go down this road? Well, it baffles me.

Although I am reluctant to question the unerring management of Dr. Dubish, I will have to offer a critical word here about the team. Careful, bud. I consider myself to be the people's correspondent. I'm not simply a mouthpiece for team management, its generous retainer notwithstanding. I don't want to offend our listeners with anything approaching sacrilege. Continue, but exercise considerable caution,

and I reserve the right to intercede if necessary. Simply is nice touch. The idea of Leafs management pursuing some sort of mathematical enterprise, well, I don't want to overstate it, but I believe the apocalypse is upon us. Must reassure you that in no way will the Leafs data crew at all be deleterious of the Leafs glory run nor in any way even slightly stain their legendary legacy what is important is that the magical employ of numbers will most greatly enhance the team's performance and ensure greater greatness to come huh color me skeptical easy now bud go on and explain young Ted I'd love to say that it's, but clearly don't pass out Nobel trophies for rudimentary stuff,

else each in our block would have a window full. The methodology I can express in layman's terms, but the effects are multifold. I have buckled my seatbelt. Continue. Working on behalf of the Ballard Family Trust, the proprietors of the franchise and Hallowed Arena, Dr. Dubas and the data analytics team

have mastered the dynamics of the collective agreement with the Players Association, the NHLPA they like to call it. Satan's henchmen. And thus, this season, through data, analysis, arbitration, contract law, and an ironclad ruling from the highest court at 361 University, each member of the Leafs roster this season will earn not a dollar more than the league minimum. Moreover, through canny use of the waiver wire and some such,

an area player will receive credit for a full year's service, and thus, Leafs will be better able to retain the roster as assembled for seasons ahead and pass on a significant savings to season ticket holders. If this is true, then by gosh Dr. Dubin and his number crunchers will have earned their well-earned laureate status.

Say there, young Ted, is there any line on how you get an entry into that Nobel literature pool? Asking for a friend. Presumably not Rush Carrier. Hey, let's take that as a cue for another commercial break and a few words from our sponsors. You know, there's nothing that matches the pure excitement of a game at Maple Leaf Gardens with our hometown heroes and frankly, all the

life lessons that young people need can be drawn from 60 minutes of action on any given night. But in the off season I like to supplement the kids regimen with another set of lessons. Life isn't but a roll of the dice but here we are from our friends at Milton Bradley. I made 50,000 in the stock market today. I had twins. I went to the poor farm. I'm on Millionaire Acres. That's life.

The game of life. The game of life. You will learn about life when you play the game of life. First you start out with $2,000 and a car. I got a car You got a car

Then you may go straight to college Just to get a lot of knowledge College Or to business if you think you'll go as far I'll be a star You may go far The game of life The game of life

Hey, I'll get revenge You'll get revenge. I've got revenge. I've got revenge. Milton Bradley makes the best games in the world. So play the game of life. That's life. And from our friends with the Marks Company, another game that can properly inspire young Torontonians.

What will make a delightful birthday or Christmas gift for our young sons and daughters as they learn conflict resolution skills? They're slugging it out in the middle of the ring. And there's a hard right to the job. And blow a bomb and block is knocked off. And block is knocked off? His block is knocked off? Sure, but you can press it right back on again. It's just part of the action where the world's only boxing robots,

the Rock'em Sock'em Robots by Marks, takes two managers to handle the fighters and lots of skill to win. With these control levers, you can keep your fighters in motion to duck punches. When you press this plunger, he throws a right uppercut. Press the other plunger and there's a left jab. Lots of exciting action and fun for everyone when the world's only boxing robots battle it out. The Blue Bomber's looking for an opening.

And there it is. That's the end of round two. Just push the flying head back and you're ready for round three. Boy, this is the greatest. You bet. The world this is the greatest. You bet. The world's only boxing robots. Get the Rock'em Sock'em Robots by March. Red, I have to say that a couple of bouts of my grandson, young Foskey,

had me hearkening back to the Leafs' line brawls of old. No doubt there was a real cause for the trademark court action launched by Orlin Curtainback. The likeness was uncanny. It did lead to a handsome and deserved out-of-court settlement. Ever the good teammate, Orlin was joined by other leads in the class action suit, John Cordick and Forbes Kennedy amongst them. And finally, from our friends at Canadian Tire... Canadian Tire? Steve!

Fred! John, come on! Fred! There he is! Tommy! Mike! Patrick, come on! Scott!

Wait a minute, I got Johnny! Come on! Guess it leaves Albert. Hey, he's your kid, brother. You take him. We're going to get him this time. Come on, Albert. At Canadian Tire, we carry the best names in hockey. Bauer, Cooper, CCM, Jaffa, and Coho.

But good equipment is only a beginning. How far you go depends on you. Albert! Albert! Albert! Albert! I sure wish we had a guy like Albert. Yeah. Albert! Albert! Albert! It must be getting a little dusty in here with my eyes moistening. I have the same reaction when I see the TV ad here.

A vignette from the boyhood of Albert Anthony Iafrate. Well, I believe the checks have cleared. Let's get back to our show. We're into our last block and, well... I wouldn't describe it as well, but... It's time we get our report from the Leafs rookie camp. Only fitting that my oldest lad is the house expert on the Leafs youth movement, not to mention a chip off the old block. Gosh, Dad, don't embarrass me in front of the guys.

With your awesome birthright comes a great responsibility, and not just a place in the will. Teeter, you're our chief prospects watch reporter. News on tomorrow stars today, as it were. Be fitting, a son of mine. Tomorrow can't come soon enough, Dad. Nor the reading of the will. Well, Dad, I've been tracking the Leafs cadets

going right back to the preseason. I was up in Collingwood for the annual Claire Alexander Rookie Tournament. I covered it in years past. Great hockey, great cause. Yeah, yeah, the Ontario Independent Milkmen's Pension Fund. Claire, of course, has been a great resource finding leafs and numnai roots, putting them out to pasteurize. Another find, bud. Continue, my son. For rookies, he manages to land jobs as apprentice milkmen or jobs in the bottling operations. I remember him getting Mitch Marner and Austin Matthews

a few shifts wielding scoops at the ice cream counter in Don Land's dairy. Mitch makes a hell of a milkshake. Well, Claire really packs in the locals and they get treated to hockey, the likes of which is only ever matched at the fabled gardens. I was most impressed with several professional freshmen looking to

make the step to the Leafs kit. I was impressed by Nick Robertson. I should hope so. He's been invited to the rookie camp seven years in a row. On that basis he's already qualified for a pension. Both with the Leafs and Blue Mountain Creamery Limited. I believe he's played with the fathers of some of his line mates.

Exactly on point, Mr. Hewitt. In fact he was in a troika with Colby Saganuk, the grandson of the much-beloved hot Rocky of 70s fame. Coincidentally, Rocky also signed in with the Kurtenbach v. Mark Toys class action shoot. I'm really convinced that this is the year we see a big breakout from little Nick Robertson.

The least patient approach with player development again, paying big dividends as it has over the years with the likes of Freddie Gauthier, Tyler Biggs, and Stuart Percy. And no doubt we'll see the investment yield huge returns when the club opens up spots for Jeremy Bracco and Fabrice Herzog. Gotta admire a team willing to wait on its

prospects until they have a little grey in their temples. Great you are, Dad. Too often it has been proven true, yet other teams inexplicably tie their youngsters to the fast track as if bound off the rails facing an oncoming train. It's almost unconscionable when you look at the way that Pittsburgh rushed Crosby and Edmonton, that young McDavid. As for the poor McKinnon in Colorado, that's the deleterious effects of the too-much-too-soon was plain to see in the final. You can only ask with such talent what might have been if they'd been lucky enough to have been selected by the Leafs.

I've long made the case that teams should enjoy a territorial exemption, such that it was in the days of yore. I don't think McDavid would have been qualified being from Newmarket. A stumbling block easily averted with the redrawing of the city limits. No doubt council would be convinced of a puck-driven gerrymander. Wouldn't be the first. Applied retroactively to John DeVars. I believe we have a little audio clip from the CFCA broadcast of the blue and white game from Collingwood.

The puck goes into the blue zone. That's handled neatly behind that end by Pogge, who leaves it for Hoffenmeyer to advance. Hoffenmeyer to Abramoff to Steeves. Oh, Steeves is leveled by a thunderous jack by Rinat Valiev. White now has the puck. Here comes Victor Louv now. He dumps the puck into Dimitri

Timoshev, gives it to Chase. Timoshev to Stas, to Abrus and he's gone! Abrus! I have to say, just the sound of it sets my pulse to racing. I can read or at least hear between those lines that even more cops await us. It's like there's a pipeline of excellence that courses between Carlton Street parallel to the sewers. That's why it's such a keen beat for me to work, Mr. Reeve.

As I hope to one day, boys walk to assume their elder station's previous. Tis ever the story of renewal. Is like license plates. Is occasion, but most formality. What's that, Baron? What was coaching? Not what, but who. Was coaching there.

What? I know. Well, the old clock on the wall says that we're going to have to wrap up this stirring conversation such that it is. Many thanks to the experts on our panel, constituted of Bud Hewitt, the latest in a long line of Hewitts to witness an unbroken string of glories from that most sacred sanctuary in hockey, the gondola at Maple Leaf Gardens. I'm honored to sit in the same chair on this panel

as did Grandpa Foster and Daddy Bill. As mandated by our licensing agreement, your fines have been deducted but do constitute taxable income. And then there's Ted Reeve III out of another prodigious sports media stable here in the city, grand sired by the moaner himself. I know that he's always been proud, or maybe embarrassed, to call himself your mentor. Please pass along my regards and denials. And then there's Bob Pennington, our garrulous and ever-engaging correspondent on loan from Fleet Street. Oh blimey, Red. Always ready to go native here in the colonies. Then there's my lad, Teeter York. I know what a thrill it is for you to sit beside your old man. I can see the goosebumps rising. They wouldn't be there if the tetracycline worked. Which brings us to the Baron himself,

the ever debonair George Gross. What a pleasure to have you. What was the coach, and where was the player? Some of these matters will forever remain a mystery, I suppose. And finally, a big thank you to the man at the soundboard, the ever reliable, tireless Ollie Thumbs. Your two minutes over. I'm going to have to charge you for the full half hour. Gentlemen, it's coming out of your paychecks. Check the fine print.

Join us again next week when our panel will reassemble to do our sharp-eyed analysis of the Leafs' latest victories en route to yet another Stanley Cup. Every spring, a parade down Bay Street is a product of Red York Production Enterprises in association with CFCA 770, a wholly owned subsidiary of the Toronto Telegram Syndicate. Again, we acknowledge the support given us

by the City of Toronto Arts Council, the Orange Order of Ontario, and the Professional Hockey Writers Association, Red York President. We'd also like to thank the CRTC for our special exceptions grandfathered in, and the SAGE Council of Clayton Ruby, the official barrister and solicitor for this program.

To our fighting men on foreign shores tuning in on our armed services network, we give our thanks for fighting to defend our freedoms. Until next time, Toronto, God save the Queen and God save the Maple Leafs. Cue the anthem, Ollie! God save our gracious least

Long live our noble least God save the Leaves Send them victorious Happy and glorious Long to reign over us God save the least

Ollie, next week we've got to get the cover version by the 48 Highlanders. Red York was performed, as ever, by David Schultz, the hockey writer and reluctant baseball writer retired from the Globe and Mail, though his stories these days occasionally pop up in the New York Times. Dave's reading of the Red York Memoir, Every Spring a Parade Down Bay Street,

is now available on Audible. Ted Reed III was performed by Jerry Hall, a Hamilton-based stand-up comic, writer, and actor, as well as a roast battle legend. He has shows upcoming at the Levity Comedy Club in Hamilton December 16th and Comedy Bar West in Toronto December 17th. Jerry appears frequently at these clubs, and many across the region.

Bud Hewitt and Teeter York were performed by Liam Kelly, a long-time Toronto stand-up comic. Liam's working New Year's Eve at Joker's in Richmond Hill with Mike Wilmot headlining. He's played everywhere you can imagine. Just don't ask him about Sudbury. And Bob Pennington, George Gross, and Red Fisher were performed and unfortunately desecrated by Gare Joyce, who also wrote this mishmash. A writer at the Globe and Mail, ESPN, and Sportsnet in years past, and author of ten non-fiction titles,

Gare's real-life memoir-ish deal, How to Succeed in Sports Writing Without Really Trying, is available now on Audible. Private Eyes, the TV series starring Jason Priestley and inspired by Gare's mystery novel, The Code,

can still be seen in reruns on Global, but Gare's earned his last dime from that show. Every spring, a parade down Bay Street is a Turtle Race production. And that brings us to the end of our 1,169th episode. You can follow me on Twitter. I'm at Toronto Mike. Gare Joyce is at Gare Joyce NHL.

David Schultz is at D Schultz. Schultz is S-H-O-A-L-T-S, by the way. Jerry Hall is at Jerry Hall Comedy. Liam Kelly is not on social media. Our friends at Great Lakes Brewery are at Great Lakes Beer. Palma Pasta is at Palma Pasta. Sticker U is at Sticker U. Moneris is at Moneris.

Raymond James Canada are at Raymond James CDN. Recycle My Electronics are at EPRA underscore Canada. Ridley Funeral Home are at Ridley FH. Canna Cabana are at Canna Cabana underscore. And Sammy Cone Real Estate is at Sammy Cone.

Cone is K- at Sammy Cone. Cone is K-O-H-N. We'll be back with another live episode of Toronto Mic'd Friday. See you all then. Coming up, rosy and gray Yeah, the wind is cold But the smell of snow Won't stay today And your smile is fine And it's just like mine And it won't go away

Cause everything is Rosy and gray Well, I've been told That there's a sucker born every day But I wonder who Yeah, I wonder who Maybe the one who doesn't realize There's a thousand shades of gray

Cause I know that's true, yes I do I know it's true, yeah I know that's true, yes I do I know it's true, yeah I know it's true How about you? I'm picking up trash and then putting down ropes And they're broken in stocks, the class struggle explodes And I'll play this guitar just the best that I can Maybe I'm not and maybe I am

But who gives a damn Because everything is coming up rosy and gray Yeah, the wind is cold but the smell of snow warms me today. And your smile is fine, it's just like mine, and it won't go away. Because everything is rosy and gray. Well, I've kissed you in France, and I've kissed you in Spain. And I've kissed you in places I better not name And I've seen the sun go down on Chaclacour

But I like it much better going down on you Yeah, you know that's true Because everything is coming up Rosy and green Yeah, the wind is cold But the smell of snow Warms us today And your smile is fine

And it's just like mine And it won't go away Cause everything is rosy now Everything is rosy now Everything is rosy and Everything is rosy and gray