The title of this post is not completely accurate – really it is the Toronto Maple Leafs that are like a drug to me … and not necessarily in a good way. 

To make this analogy work, hockey would be the needle and the Leafs would be the drug.

It seems like every year, come playoff time, I inject myself with this drug and I overdose. 

I’m not talking about watching too much of the Leafs, or watching too much hockey in general.  I’m talking about OD’ing with my emotions. 

You see, a drug is supposed to give you some euphoric feeling – like everything is groovy, everything feels more real, and you can be like superman. And I’m sure you’ve heard all the other descriptions of how some drugs manifest in an addict. 

I do call myself an addict here because I can’t seem to stop taking the drug. 

And like a true addict, I don’t admit that I have a problem at all, even when the symptoms are pointed out to me.

But the day of the game, I’m a little agitated. I can’t tell you why – maybe I got up on the wrong side of the bed; maybe I didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

Maybe it’s just that the Leafs are playing Boston tonight in game 4 of the playoffs … and the drug is flowing through my veins, rapidly making its way through my corpuscles to my heart. 

I know this because, by the time dinner rolls around, I’m not just a little hangry because I need food. There is way more going on than that.

I’m nervous like a junky who’s late for his fix. I can’t really sit still, so I pace between rooms, semi-listening to Lily tell me what has happened during her day, and trying to pick up on the predictions and analysis of the pregame show on TV.

I’m like a caged lion on the prowl … and it’s uncontrollable. 

When the game starts, I’m all tense. It’s like I have a rubber band around my arm and my veins are starting to pop for my injection.

And that is when I overdose. 

I never hit that high where everything is going to be all right. I never get that sense of sailing on silver clouds. … Maybe you get that reference, but it doesn’t matter. You know that this is a bad trip I’m on. 

And it lasts about two and a half hours. 

Well, that is not exactly true. If the Leafs lose, I go into a downer and then you might as well not talk to me, talk around me, or make comments, funny or otherwise. 

I’ve bottomed out.  

If the Leafs win, well it’s not like it was a great trip I was on. It’s just a relief that it’s over and I’m happy I’m still alive or that the Leafs are still alive in the playoffs. 

At any rate, I’m left feeling alone in my addiction. No one in my family really understands.

Here’s the thing: Two thousand years ago, Jesus was feeling much like I do. But His passion was for us – a love for everyone that He had in abundance – so much so that He endured all kinds of emotional and physical angst and pain. No one understood. He went through those agonizing hours to pay for the sins of the world – your sin, my sin – not just for a win, but for eternity. Christ died on the cross for you. Think on that this Easter.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What has you all tied up but you can’t give up? Leave your comments below.