Arena: Scotiabank Arena

Location: Downtown Toronto, Ontario

Game Attended: April 2, 2023 vs Detroit Red Wings

Game Result: Red Wings 5-2, and the Leaves ALSO Stunk it Up

Seat Location: Downstairs, Shoot 1x End

Overall Impression: I Took Out a Second Mortgage to Buy Tickets, But it Was Great!

Coach Jim Valvano came to my mind recently. 

He was a remarkable man in his 47 years on this Earth. Those knowledgable about sports know him as a college basketball coach, most notably at NC State. On the court, he is perhaps best known for leading the Wolfpack to an upset victory over Houston in the 1983 NCAA Championship Game, after which he proceeded to sprint about the court wildly looking for somebody to hug. 

But perhaps more than his on-court accomplishments, Coach Valvano is best known for a legendary speech he made in New York in March 1993, just a few weeks before I was born. An equally humble, grim, hilarious, and inspiring speech that I will never forget. 

Coach Valvano was dying of cancer. At that speech in New York, he received ESPN’s first Arthur Ashe Award for Courage. At that speech, Coach Valvano encouraged his listeners “to laugh, to think, and to cry”, every single day they can. “That’s a full day, that’s a heck of a day,” he remarked. “You do that seven days a week, you’re gonna have something special!” 

Towards the end of that speech, Coach Valvano established the V Foundation for Cancer Research. As of April 2022, that organization has raised over $310 million for cancer research. As Coach predicted, the Foundation did not save his life, but it undoubtedly did save others. He left a powerful legacy and a platform for awareness, research, and care for others he’d never meet on this Earth. 

It’s people like Coach Valvano that inspire me. A man faced with almost certain death cared about nothing more that March night in 1993 than helping others. Teaching. Coaching. He wanted to encourage others to give back. To be happy. To spend each day in thought, in reflection, in happiness. 

I’n not sure if Grandma ever saw that speech on TV, but damn, if she didn’t echo Coach Valvano’s message to me during her final months on this Earth. 

One day, several years ago, I found another speech that Coach Valvano gave to attendees of a national sales conference. It was called, “Cutting Down the Nets”, referring to a college basketball coach’s ultimate prize for winning a championship. I highly recommend spending 45 minutes of your time watching or listening; you can find it on YouTube. 

Towards the end of the speech, Coach Valvano spoke humbly and fondly of his late father, Rocco. His biggest fan. His best friend. Coach would talk to Rocco on the phone about upcoming games and trips his teams would make, especially in the NCAA Tournament. Despite all odds and challenges, Rocco’s response to Jim was always the same. “I’ll be there,” he said. “My bags are packed.” He would always be there to support his favorite coach. His son. 

Coach also told the story of the greatest gift his father ever gave him:

“The gift my father gave me, and I think it’s the strongest and most powerful gift I ever received. The gift my father gave me, every day of my life, was he believed in me. My father believed in me.”

What a powerful and remarkably humble reflection. “He believed in me.” That’s all. Nothing tangible. Nothing complicated. Belief. Support. Love. 

A few months ago, I got an email from my Dad. A simple email, but one that carried a similarly powerful and emotional gravitas as Coach Valvano’s speeches:

“Mom and I are going to fly up for the final game in Toronto.”

Nothing tangible. Nothing complicated. Belief. Support. Love. Those two special guests I referenced? You guessed it. 

I know I can’t ever repay Mom and Dad for how hard they worked for my benefit, and for their unending love and support. Perhaps this chapter of my story will in some small way thank them for their undying support of my dream on this Tour. And the hockey tickets probably weren’t a bad consolation prize either.

There was definitely an air of symbolism on Sunday, April 2nd, 2023. A common theme of “the end of the line”. The train trip from Ottawa took us through eastern and southern Ontario, through quaint countryside villages and along the factory-filled shores of Lake Ontario. Toronto’s Union Station, fittingly, is the end of the train line. A sense of finality and of relief; this humble train ride clinched a perfect record for the Tour. 32 games and zero canceled flights or trains that prohibited me from missing a game. 

And after enjoying a final pregame meal a few blocks from the arena at Hunter’s Landing, Mike, Drew, Mom, Dad, and I geared up for the final few blocks of the journey on Bremmer Boulevard in downtown Toronto. Which, fittingly, dead-ended into Maple Leaf Square and the front door of Scotiabank Arena. 

“The end of the line.”

Maple Leaf Square is a nice open city block half-open to cars and half-open to pedestrians. During Maple Leafs (and Raptors) playoff games, thousands of fans descend on the Square to watch the game on the gigantic video board adorning the arena’s exterior wall. It’s a concept that Canadian arenas have developed in recent years and I absolutely love the idea. It creates a great atmosphere for fans and some awesome panoramic crowd shots outside the building. Hopefully it’s a concept American arenas will adopt in coming years, too. 

And outside the front gate, fans can get a real taste of the action to come with a stop at Legends Row. It’s a sculpture of a group of players on the Maple Leafs bench, with a few jumping over the boards and into play. 14 Maple Leafs’ greats are honored, including Hockey Hall of Famers Daryl Sittler, Borje Salming, Mats Sundin, and yes, Tim Horton himself! I love teams that honor their greats with sculptures, and Legends Row is certainly the most unique sculpture league-wide. 

One of my favorite traditions on Tour is the pregame warmup. Getting down to the glass behind the goal about a half-hour before the game is a real treat, and it gives you a true sense about how freaking good these players actually are. They pick corners with ease and flick wrist shots with such ease. And after 32 games and countless rounds of “warmies”, I’m still in awe of their skill!

Drew and Mike joined me for warmups in Montreal, and Dad previously did in Philadelphia, but Mom had never enjoyed that experience, so I was thrilled to show her the action up close and personal. I think the first few shots that smacked the glass at full speed gave her a bit of a heart attack, but she loved every minute of it. 

And another favorite tradition of mine is the singing of the national anthems before the game. It was born from from a love of music and the privilege of hearing the NHL’s number one-ranked anthemist Lauren Hart sing the Star-Spangled Banner before Flyers games. With the Leafs playing Detroit, I knew they would play the Star-Spangled Banner first before playing O Canada. I had thought it might be emotional for my last game. 

I was right. 

I made it as far as “O, say can you see”, and it was at that moment I realized I was not making it any further in the song. It was at that moment that I knew I made it. I quickly became teary-eyed and choked up for the remainder of the anthems. As far as I’m concerned, the Tour was complete at that point. That was my “I made it” moment. 

Don’t get me wrong, I could go on about Scotiabank Arena. It’s nice, comfortable, clean, full of friendly people. The concourses were nice and spacious compared to the other two eastern Canadian venues we visited. Nothing stood out extraordinarily to me, but nothing was bad either. 

It was expensive, I’ll say that at least. Even upper deck tickets would’ve cost over $150 per ticket. Downstairs, obviously, was much more. Perhaps the exorbitant prices drive many rabid fans away, price them out of attending a game. But the loud, passionate Leafs fans we saw in Ottawa were mostly absent in Toronto. It seemed like a more reserved crowd like Calgary was four years prior. They did make themselves known in a close third period, but the Toronto fans left me wanting a bit more energy. 

The game itself was nothing special. Toronto trailed almost all night. They scored early in the 3rd period to cut Detroit’s lead in half, but the Red Wings finished strong. The toll of back-to-back games seemed to set in for Toronto. But it didn’t matter. In fact, the game rarely mattered that much over the past five years. All of the ardent anticipation, the weeks of meticulous planning, the taxing travel, it made the actual games somewhat trivial. Don’t get me wrong, I loved every minute of the games, but the results didn’t matter as much as the experience and the impact of my cause. 

Sunday, April 2nd, 2023. 9:38 pm Eastern. 1,626 days from the first flight to Columbus took off. 32 exciting hockey games. 196 goals. 14 wins for the home team, 18 for the visitors. Over 42,000 miles traveled. And yes, one special ride on the Fanboni. 

Along the way, and especially on Sunday, April 2nd, I took Coach Valvano’s advice. I laughed with my friends and family. I spent a great deal of time in thought, especially on the train to Toronto. The CN Tower in the distance seemed like a beacon guiding me home, just as it guided Mike back home to Toronto. And indeed I cried too, both during the anthems and before setting off to sleep. Years of hard work, sacrifice, passion; it all came to a magical end at Scotiabank Arena. And in fitting fashion, in an Original Six matchup; a game that could’ve been played in 1926 as much as it could’ve in 2023. 

Two wonderful friends were by my side. I met Drew just a few weeks into my time at Elon. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. We argue about Carolina-Duke basketball games, we enjoy baseball games together, the occasional round of golf, the occasional rock concert. He’s kind, genuine, loves his baseball. But he’s been in my corner for years; I’m thrilled he helped me finish this Tour on such a grand note. 

And the same with Mike. We never knew each other in college; our paths never crossed. He arrived at Elon just months after I graduated. Perhaps I subconsciously passed the “crazed hockey fan” torch to him on campus. But few people share my passion for hockey and the minutiae of the game as he does. And the love he shares for family is admirable. He has been, and will continue to be, a great friend in hockey and on the golf course.

But since day 1, for almost 30 years, my two cornermen, Mom and Dad, have been my biggest supporters. They allowed me to play hockey in Northampton Township all those years ago. They bought me skates, sticks, that PVC goal. They bought me tickets to see the Flyers. They sacrificed so much to help me pursue my dreams in this crazy, wacky sport I love so dearly. 

And they were there by my side as those final ten seconds ticked off the scoreboard. They were there, twice that day, at “the end of the line.” It was a day I’ll remember as long as I grace this Earth. 

They always believed in me. 

Their bags were packed. 

Arena: 4 / 5

Atmosphere: 4 / 5

Neighborhood: 4 / 5

Overall: 4 / 5