Part VII: Elbows Up

What it means, and why it's important.

It was 1996.

I'm sitting in my living room with my dad, a diehard Leafs fan, watching hockey. I had originally been a Jets fan, but my dad slowly dragged me into the abyss that I still inhabit - the torturous life of being a Leafs fan.

I've always liked scrappy and aggressive goalies, the ones that loved to leave the net to play the puck, bodycheck opponents, and even fight players. I loved watching Billy Smith, Patrick Roy, and Curtis Joseph strike fear in the hearts of opponents.

But there was no goalie that personified this style of play like Ron Hextall. Ferocious, unpredictable, and loved by his teammates, he was often seen smashing his stick, threatening players (even his own teammates), and punching people in the face.

On this particular night, the Leafs were playing Hextall's team, the Philadelphia Flyers, a team with a long history of violence. In the Leafs net was my favourite player, Felix 'the cat' Potvin. In stark contrast to Hextall, he was known for his calm poise, acrobatics, and lightning fast reflexes.

Midway through the third period, tensions were high. Both teams played with an edge, and the game had been very physical. A scrum started in front of the Leafs net after some hits were exchanged. And, because it was 90s hockey, it quickly escalated into a full line brawl. Hextall, to the surprise of absolutely no one, tossed off his gloves and skated the length of the ice towards the fight. Then he challenged Potvin to a fight.

And then the magic happened - the calm and quiet Potvin accepted.

The two squared off at centre ice and started trading punches in one of the most iconic goalie fights of all time. The crowd erupted. We jumped to our feet. Not only did Potvin hold his ground, he got in some clean punches. The fight only lasted 30 seconds, but anyone who's been in one will tell you that it feels like a lifetime. The refs broke up the fight, and Potvin skated off to legendary status in Leafs lore.

I will never forget that cold winter night. I will never forget how it felt to see the underdog stand his ground. To this day, I have a framed photo of the fight on my wall, signed by both goalies.

And this is what 'Elbows Up' has always stood for, at least for me. It sounds silly to those that don't watch hockey, but there are two meanings of the phrase.

The first is to lead with your elbow when landing a hit. This is considered a dirty cheap shot, and can lead to injury and concussions. I don't subscribe to this usage.

The second is a fighting stance where a player holds their arms high, elbows cocked, and ready to throw punches. It helps protect your head and face with one arm while using the other to grab the other player's jersey and control their movement. I like this one, a lot.

So when the term Elbows Up was adopted in defiance of Trump's threats against our very sovereignty, it embodied our response. Not backing down in the face of adversity, regardless of the opponent. Not backing down. Holding the line. What it means, to me, to be Canadian.

So, to me, it's the perfect way to describe our present circumstances. It signals to those that threaten us that we won't break. We won't bend. We won't give up.

Even after all these years I still remember that night, cheering with my father, while David fought Goliath. Honestly, I kind of feel sorry for Trump. He doesn't know it yet, but this is a fight he won't win.

Elbows up.