Game 7. Boston Garden. The Leafs vs. The Bruins
Standing between the Leafs and victory was a massive fire-breathing dragon. Did you see it? It wasn’t new. It’s been there for years, albeit not in its current form. Once upon a time, it was nothing more than a lizard with a cough, barely recognizable as these two original six teams, Boston and Toronto, battled it out for victory in the early days of the 20th century. Sometimes Boston would win, and the tiny dragon would let out a happy little puff of smoke, and sometimes the Leafs would win, and the dragon would crawl back into its cave, ready to re-emerge next year.
But then, things changed. The dragon began to grow as favour seemed to shine on the black and yellow. With each passing season and each playoff defeat handed to the Leafs by the Bruins, the dragon got bigger and more confident, fueled by the anger, angst, exasperation, and desperation of Leaf fans; on each cry of “not again,” the dragon fed, growing stronger with every morsel. On May 13, 2013, it grew almost overnight to become a behemoth, towering over the rink as Boston came back and snatched all but sure victory from the Buds in yet another game-seven tilt. On that night, that legendary night, the dragon feasted without apology on the entrails of the hopes and dreams of every Leaf fan.
And he was there last Saturday as the Bruins fans streamed into the Boston Garden, eager to see history repeat itself, safe in the protective shadow of their dragon. But, buoyed by a strong, if somewhat jaded optimism, Leaf fans wondered if this could be the year that someone finally slayed the dragon and set them free. They wondered which player in blue and white would step up and play the role of St. George, taking down the beast with a single snipe of the puck. For a while, it seemed as if the monster could be bested. As the game wore on, it started to look weak, tired, and vulnerable, as if there was a slow realization that it couldn’t live forever.
And then came overtime, and the beast came to life.
The dragon knew from experience that over time is feeding time. Pulling itself to its full stature, it loomed over the surface of the ice. Sure enough, at 1:54 into the fourth period, it roared again, sending its fiery breath across the landscape of Leaf Nation, consuming everything in its path.
The dragon would not be slayed this year.
The story of the dragon is not new. Leaf fans know it well, but so do we all, even if we have never shot a puck or tuned into hockey night in Canada. The motif of “slaying a dragon” to achieve success has embedded itself in the human psyche, nurtured by the nursery rhymes, stories and fables of childhood. St. George slaying the dragon in English folklore may be the most obvious example. Still, there are many more involving a princess trapped in a tower, a hero on horseback, and a great fiery beast separating the two. We expect the Hero to win because the Hero always does. Imagine reading a bedtime story to your kids or grandkids in which the Hero is consumed by the dragon’s fire, and the princess never again sees the light of day. Hello, nightmares!!
So common is the dragon/hero motif, that we apply it to any significant obstacle that stands in our way. The princess trapped in the castle, can represent a goal we wish to achieve, from optimizing our health, to achieving a dream job, to meeting our future mate. The dragon that stands in our path is anything that seeks to stop us. We instinctively know that if we want something badly enough, we are likely going to have to fight a dragon to get it.
The psychologist Carl Jung internalized the hero/dragon archetype. He suggested that the dragon is our subconscious, trying to diminish our lives by telling us we should approach life with fear, timidity, reticence, and skepticism. The Hero is our conscious mind that must do battle with the subconscious to free it from it’s fears and convince it that life can be a bold adventure, worthy of the best we have to offer.
Okay, back to game seven. Why are Leaf fans so upset? Because the Hero is supposed to win, at least once! We were taught in childhood that dragons can’t live forever. Eventually, someone brave enough will come along who will send the dragon packing. Maybe our St. George hasn’t arrived yet, but he will. Every good dragon story has a happy ending. Eventually.
