A strange thing happened on the way to another late-game collapse . . .

. . . I discovered that I don't like Toronto FC.

Let's just say that I didn't find this particularly disappointing.

Listen. I know that Toronto FC is both the symptom and the cause of an emergence of soccer in the Canadian sports landscape. And I understand the theory that what's good for TFC is good for the game in this country. Throughout the team's existence, I've always thought that I was a fan.

But watching yesterday's game, I just didn't care.

It's not that I didn't want to. I'd love to ride high whenever Toronto does well, but my heart doesn't feel the same way.

I returned to the telecast just after half-time, after the goal had been scored, and when I saw the score was 1-0, I'll admit to feeling a little disappointed. That disappointment was largely muted when I learned that it was Attakora, one of my favourites, who had scored. But I did not feel aggrieved at all by San Jose's late (and inevitable) equalizer. You might even say that I felt a tinge of gladness.


I've always known that I'll prefer the other two pro teams, Montreal and especially Vancouver, to Toronto. This is a function of my preference for underdogs, and of better experiences with those two cities than with the T-dot. And I'm a westerner, relatively speaking, so of the 3 the Whitecaps will always be favourites. But I'm not a 'hater' (one of my least favourite words for its total lack of useful meaning).

I try to like Toronto. I love some of their players: De Guzman who always seems under control; Attakora with his immense potential; Serioux living the thug life; even the occasionally brilliant yet often frustrating De Rosario.

And I want to want them do well.

But I'd rather see Toronto out of this year's playoffs than in. I just can't help it. And it looks as though I might get my wish.