In this report
Eleven games into the Toronto Maple Leafs' season, are there legitimate reasons for optimism?
Auston Matthews looks like the Auston Matthews of old. With 18 points, he's among the NHL's scoring leaders, while the power play has been productive and the penalty kill has surrendered just one goal through 11 games. There have been impressive victories, frustrating losses and injuries to navigate.
In other words, we've seen a little bit of everything. But haven't we been here before?
We've watched Matthews dominate and Leafs teams appear capable of competing with anyone, only to leave us wanting more come April.
So, 11 games into an 84-game season, I'm not ready to declare this team different. But I'm certainly not prepared to dismiss what we've seen either. What must happen over the next 73 games to make these early signs mean something?
What would give Leafs fans bona fide hope that this season really could be different?
Stop Donating Points to Weaker Teams
One thing I'd like to see change is Toronto's tendency, at least from where I sit as a longtime fan, to make life unnecessarily difficult against some of the NHL's weaker teams. Two examples from recent memory immediately come to mind.
During the 2023–24 season, the Leafs failed to win either of their two meetings with the Chicago Blackhawks, a rebuilding team that would finish second-last in the NHL with just 52 points.
The first loss came on October 16, 2023, when Chicago defeated Toronto 4–1 at Scotiabank Arena. Matthews had opened the season with consecutive hat tricks, but the Leafs couldn't carry their early momentum into a third victory. Careless puck management and an inability to establish control contributed to a disappointing performance against an opponent Toronto was widely expected to beat.
A little more than a month later, on November 24, the Leafs travelled to Chicago riding a four-game winning streak. They built a 3–1 lead in the second period but allowed the Blackhawks to fight back, eventually losing 4–3 in overtime. Jason Dickinson scored a hat trick, while Kevin Korchinski supplied the overtime winner. Toronto took one of four available points.
A year later, it happened again, this time against the San Jose Sharks.
On March 3, 2025, Toronto carried a 2–0 lead into the third period against a Sharks team that had lost eight consecutive games. The Leafs surrendered two third-period goals and lost 3–2 in a shootout.
Three weeks later, on March 27, Toronto found itself trailing San Jose 5–3 late in the third period. Goals from John Tavares and William Nylander in the final minute forced overtime, but the Leafs ultimately lost 6–5 in another shootout. The comeback was admirable, but needing two last-minute goals to salvage a point against the eventual last-place team was troubling.
Add those games to the two losses against Chicago, and Toronto collected just three of eight possible points against two of the league's weakest teams in their respective seasons.
Every team suffers upsets, and I haven't analyzed whether Toronto fares worse against weaker opponents than other contenders. Still, I can't shake the impression that the Leafs sometimes reserve their greatest urgency for the league's best.
It's not simply about the points left on the table. It's about the habits, preparation and consistency that championship-calibre teams need to develop. There are legitimate reasons for an occasional poor performance. A demanding schedule, travel, injuries and the simple reality that NHL players are human all matter. And weaker teams are still capable of playing excellent hockey on a given night.
But those explanations shouldn't become convenient excuses for a recurring lack of urgency. A team hoping to contend for the Stanley Cup must establish its standard of play regardless of the opponent. That means preparing for the teams at the bottom of this year's standings with the same seriousness it brings to a game against one of the league's legitimate contenders.
I don't expect Toronto to win every game it should. I expect the same commitment against every opponent. Respect them, make them earn their points, and stop making games harder than necessary.
Sixty Minutes Should Mean Sixty Minutes
How often have we watched the Leafs play an excellent period, perhaps even two, only to spend the remainder of the evening protecting a lead or trying to recover from a prolonged lapse? Sometimes they escape with a victory. Sometimes they don't. And we've already witnessed examples of both during the opening 11 games of this season.
On October 6, Toronto fell behind Nashville by three goals before rallying for a 5–4 overtime victory, with Matthews scoring the winner. The comeback demonstrated offensive resilience. A week later, against Utah, the Leafs surrendered four second-period goals and entered the third period trailing 5–2. They fought back to within one but ultimately lost 5–4.
Then came October 15 against Buffalo. Toronto carried a 4–2 lead into the third period, thanks in large part to a hat trick from Kirill Marchenko. The Leafs appeared to have the game under control, but Buffalo scored twice to tie it before winning 5–4 in overtime. The Sabres outshot Toronto 11–4 in the third period. Whether you find fault with the players’ performance or Hiller’s management of the game, the result was the same: this one got away from them. We win as a team, and we lose as a team.
Different circumstances, same question: can Toronto sustain its play?
A complete game doesn't mean controlling every shift. Momentum changes and opponents adjust. What matters is Toronto's response. Does Toronto regain its structure? Can it make a clean breakout instead of repeatedly surrendering possession? Does it continue to pressure the opposition, or retreat into a defensive shell and invite trouble?
These questions become particularly important when the game is tied or the Leafs are protecting a narrow lead. Overall statistics can sometimes suggest a reasonably competitive performance, but what happens when the game demands a decisive push? Playoff games are often decided in precisely those moments.
Matthews, Nylander and Tavares have all demonstrated their ability to produce offensively. But I've often wondered why Toronto's most talented players don't seem to seize control of critical stretches as frequently as players such as the McDavids, MacKinnons or Eichels.
And there's something beyond scoring that I'd like to see from Toronto's leadership group. It's an unmistakable determination to win, the kind that leaves teammates and supporters with little doubt about how much is at stake.
I remember watching footage of Connor McDavid addressing his Edmonton teammates following their Game 2 loss to Florida in the 2024 Stanley Cup Final. The Oilers were down two games to none, and their captain was visibly furious with the performance. The footage, later featured in FACEOFF: Inside the NHL, offered a rare glimpse inside a dressing room when championship aspirations were slipping away.
What struck me wasn't simply McDavid's anger. It was the urgency, the passion and the unmistakable impression that he was putting all his chips on the table. He wasn't offering reassurances about how talented the Oilers were. He was challenging his teammates to find another level.
Oilers fans who later saw it could hardly doubt their captain's commitment.
I haven't always felt that same intensity coming from Toronto.
That doesn't mean Leafs players care any less. Different personalities express themselves differently, and visible emotion isn't the only measure of commitment. McDavid himself isn't someone who makes a habit of displaying that kind of emotion publicly. But when the moment demanded it, he left no doubt about his expectations.
I have to admit that it often irked me when Mitch Marner would speak about what a great team the Leafs were, even after performances or playoff results that fell short of expectations. They were talented, but after repeated disappointments, those reassurances rang hollow.
I wanted to hear less about how good the team believed it was and more about what it intended to do differently.
Matthews' visible frustration after their most recent playoff disappointment suggested a similar refusal to accept defeat. But frustration changes nothing unless it carries into the next difficult game.
I don't need Toronto's players to throw equipment, pound tables or deliver emotional speeches after every defeat. I want to see a team whose determination to win is unmistakable, not merely in what its leaders say, but in how they play.
A complete game isn't perfect; it's one in which Toronto maintains its identity through adversity. When the Leafs lose, I want the opposition to have earned it.
Play Better Hockey, Not Just Winning Hockey
Winning is the objective, of course. Nobody awards the Stanley Cup for attractive possession numbers or impressive expected-goals percentages. But the way a team wins can tell us something about how sustainable that success might be.
A 5–2 victory built on strong defensive play, disciplined puck management and sustained offensive pressure is different from a 5–2 victory in which the goaltender repeatedly rescues the team and the stars capitalize on a handful of opportunities. Both count as two points, but only one necessarily offers much reassurance about the next game.
That's why I want to pay greater attention to Toronto's five-on-five play. Last season, the Leafs struggled to control the balance of quality scoring opportunities at even strength. That's not the foundation on which I'd want to build a championship prediction, regardless of how talented the team's leading scorers might be.
Improving that balance would be encouraging, but the underlying habits matter more than any single number. Are the Leafs exiting their defensive zone with possession rather than simply clearing the puck? Are they entering the offensive zone under control? Are they limiting dangerous rush opportunities and protecting the middle of the ice? Can they recover loose pucks and sustain pressure long enough to wear opponents down?
Breakouts, defensive positioning, puck support and sustained pressure are leading indicators. Expected goals help measure their effect; wins and standings points follow.
It's no guarantee: a team can play well and lose to a hot goaltender, or play poorly and win.
Over the course of a season, however, I would rather trust a team demonstrating repeatable good habits than one depending on exceptional finishing or goaltending to overcome persistent shortcomings. I want to see a Leafs team capable of controlling the circumstances of a game more often, rather than merely surviving them.
A Supporting Cast That Changes the Story
For years, Toronto's championship hopes have been tied to the performances of a relatively small group of exceptionally talented players. There's nothing inherently wrong with that. Every successful team needs its stars. But the difference between having stars and building a championship team is what happens when those stars aren't producing.
Can the third line change momentum? Can the fourth line provide reliable minutes without becoming trapped in its own zone? Can the defence move the puck efficiently enough to help the forwards attack with speed? And can someone other than Matthews or Nylander provide the defining moment?
This season's roster changes offer an opportunity to create a different environment, not simply exchange one collection of names for another. New personnel, adjustments in responsibilities and a changing mix of experience and youth all create possibilities. But possibilities have to become observable improvements.
I don't expect every acquisition to excel or every youngster to develop smoothly. I want contributions beyond the scoresheet. A forward who wins a critical defensive-zone faceoff, a defenceman who makes the right first pass under pressure, or a depth line that keeps the puck in the offensive zone for 40 seconds can influence a game without receiving much attention afterward.
Those contributions become especially valuable in the playoffs, when space disappears and opponents concentrate their defensive resources on the most dangerous players. Someone on the bottom two lines needs to step up and say, “Hold my beer! I got your backs!”
And speaking of players who can deliver a defining moment, there's an interesting addition to Toronto's roster this season.
Remember Nick Paul?
On May 14, 2022, Paul scored both Tampa Bay goals in a 2–1 Game 7 victory that eliminated the Maple Leafs from the playoffs. For Toronto fans, it was another bitter postseason disappointment. For Tampa Bay, Paul was the unlikely hero who delivered when his team needed him most.
Now, four years later, he's wearing a Leafs jersey.
There's a certain irony in that. One of the players responsible for ending Toronto's season is now being asked to help extend it. Perhaps the hockey gods have a sense of humour after all.
I'm not anointing Paul Toronto's playoff saviour. But he's delivered in tight, defining moments, and that experience has value.
The Leafs need their stars, but also a supporting cast that makes an off night from Matthews survivable.
A genuinely deeper team should be harder to play against, harder to contain and harder to discourage. That's the difference I want to see.
Respond to Adversity — On the Ice and in the Front Office
Every season brings injuries, goaltending struggles and losing streaks. Toronto has already faced some of that adversity.
But adversity alone doesn't reveal a team's character. Its response does.
When the Leafs surrender an early goal, do they immediately become disorganized, or do they stay committed to their structure? When an opponent scores twice in quick succession, does Toronto regain its composure? After a disappointing loss, does the next performance demonstrate that something was learned?
These questions matter more to me than an occasional spectacular victory. A contender needs the ability to absorb disappointment without allowing it to define the next game.
Not every loss demands drama; sometimes good hockey simply goes unrewarded. But when poor habits cause defeat, I want to see them corrected.
One impressive game encourages me. Five or six disciplined performances suggest a trend.
And while we're discussing how a team responds to adversity, I believe the same expectations should apply to management.
Building a championship contender isn't simply about assembling a roster in the summer and waiting until the trade deadline to make adjustments. Injuries, disappointing performances and emerging weaknesses create challenges throughout the season. Management needs to recognize those problems and respond when opportunities arise, rather than allowing them to become entrenched.
That doesn't mean making a trade every time the team loses three games. Patience has value, and impulsive decisions can create more problems than they solve. But there's a difference between patience and complacency.
If a particular weakness continues to undermine the team, whether it's defensive depth, puck movement, secondary scoring or another area, I want confidence that management is actively exploring solutions. The trade deadline shouldn't be the only time a team considers how to become stronger.
Championship culture extends from players to coaches and the front office. Everyone must be prepared to make difficult decisions.
A different Leafs team should eventually become recognizable not only by what it does when everything is going well, but by how the entire organization responds when very little is going right.
And Then There Are Boston and Montreal When It Really Matters
We can discuss possession numbers, defensive systems, depth scoring and regular-season consistency all we want. Eventually, every conversation about the Maple Leafs arrives at the same destination: the playoffs.
For longtime Toronto fans, certain opponents carry an emotional weight that the standings alone cannot explain. Boston is one of them. Montreal is another. And the history is more sobering than some younger fans might realize.
The last time the Maple Leafs defeated the Boston Bruins in a playoff series was 1959.
That spring, Toronto overcame a 2–0 series deficit to win a seven-game semifinal against Boston. Johnny Bower was in goal, and Gerry Ehman scored the winning goal in Game 7. Sixty-seven years have passed since Toronto last eliminated the Bruins.
Generations of Leafs fans have raised children without seeing Toronto eliminate Boston. The losses in 2013, 2018, 2019 and 2024 deepen that frustration.
And then there's Montreal.
The last time Toronto defeated the Canadiens in a playoff series was 1967. That wasn't just any series. It was the Stanley Cup Final, when the Leafs defeated Montreal in six games to capture the franchise's most recent championship.
Since then, Toronto has never again eliminated the Canadiens from the playoffs.
Since those last victories over Boston in 1959 and Montreal in 1967, the Leafs have lost all 10 subsequent playoff series against those rivals: seven to Boston and three to Montreal. Five went to Game 7. That is a remarkable amount of heartbreak packed into two historic rivalries.
For younger supporters, the memory that stands out is 2021, when the Leafs squandered a 3–1 series lead and lost in seven games. For older fans, the significance reaches much further back. It's remarkable that two of hockey's most storied rivalries have produced such long periods without a Toronto playoff series victory.
I'd love to see the Leafs defeat Boston in the postseason. I'd take particular satisfaction in watching them eliminate Montreal. But the larger objective isn't revenge. It's progress.
Too often, impressive regular seasons have given way to early playoff exits.
For me, reaching the Eastern Conference Final would be tangible progress: proof Toronto had advanced beyond the second round and earned a chance to play for a Stanley Cup Final berth. It wouldn't erase decades of frustration, but it would mean more than another impressive regular season.
And if that journey happened to include a victory over Boston or Montreal, so much the better.
Still, there's a reason I don't want this article to be entirely about the playoffs. We can't assess playoff success in October. We can assess the habits that might make playoff success possible.
We can watch how Toronto competes against weaker opponents, whether it plays complete games, whether its stars take command at decisive moments, whether its supporting cast contributes and whether its five-on-five performance becomes more convincing.
Those are the things that can turn hope into belief long before the first postseason puck is dropped.
Hope Is Easy. Belief Has to Be Earned.
That's the peculiar experience of being a longtime Leafs fan: every new season revives the possibility that this time might be different.
A Matthews goal can do it. So can an impressive comeback, a brilliant save or a convincing victory over a legitimate contender. For a moment, all those familiar doubts seem a little less important.
I suspect the younger generation of Leafs fans finds it easier to embrace those moments without reservation. Those of us who have been watching for decades tend to be a little more cautious. We've seen too much to confuse a promising October with a successful spring.
But caution shouldn't become cynicism.
Matthews' production, special teams and unexpected contributions deserve recognition. But injuries and adjustments remain, with 73 games still to play.
I don't expect perfection. I don't expect every player to have a career year. And I certainly don't expect the Leafs to win every game.
What I want is evidence that the underlying habits are changing. A team that respects every opponent, competes for 60 minutes, controls play more consistently, receives meaningful contributions throughout its lineup and responds to adversity with composure. A team whose best players can take command when the moment demands it, supported by an organization equally determined to succeed.
Give me those things over the coming months, and I'll begin to believe that the results might finally be different.
There's an old Rod Stewart recording, Reason to Believe, that captures something about being a longtime Maple Leafs fan. No matter how many times our hopes have been disappointed, we somehow find ourselves ready to believe again.
Perhaps that's why, after all these years, I haven't stopped looking for evidence that this team can finally deliver something different.
As the song reminds us:
“Still I look to find a reason to believe.”
Hold Fast. Think Sharp. See the Game Clearly.
