Some personal thoughts/memories about hockey's place in my family, and about Don Cherry. My parents came here in the 70's and my dad watched the glorious Habs of that era, but he didn't pass on the hockey watching to us 1/

I started watching in 6th grade, when my homeroom teacher introduced us to it during the 94 Olympics. I remember Peter Forsberg's goal in the shootout to rob Canada of the gold medal. In the span of a week, I had discovered hockey but I was already hardcore 2/

In the playoffs, I discovered Doug Gilmour and the Toronto Maple Leafs, and I knew I had found my team. I watched every game. My sisters, try as they might, could not get me up from the TV. The Leafs beat the Blackhawks, then they beat the Sharks. I still remember 3/

Mike Gartner's OT goal in game 6, way past my bed time. I remember sneaking down to the TV basement at 4:30 a.m. after the dawn prayer, and checking TSN to see that they'd won, and lived to play game 7. I was hooked. 4/

The next season, every Saturday night, I was on the couch watching the Leafs. The theme to HNIC became the theme to my identity. And in discovering "good Canadian boy" Doug Gilmour, I discovered Don Cherry. 5/

Now, at this point, I was 12 years old, and I loved this sport and I wanted it all to make sense, so I heard his comments about Russians or Swedes, and I didn't truly understand, and I kept watching. Coach's Corner was important. He broke down the game. He analysed it. 6/

I didn't have anyone in the house to ask about every detail. So Don Cherry was, effectively, my coach for how to watch. I learned the difference between a back check and a poke check, I "learned" why fighting kept the game safe for the stars. I listened. If anyone 7/

started talking at the same time he did, I gave them a look and turned the volume up. I learned the name, number, and position of every player on every mediocre Leaf team between 1995 and 2002. Hockey was my obsession, but it was also my "Canadian badge". It was my proof, 8/

to anyone who looked at me and saw an oppressed Muslim teenaged girl in a hijab, to anyone who looked and saw "you people", that I was more than "you people". If you started a conversation about hockey, not only could I keep up, I could keep going until you were out 9/

of things to say, and then keep going some more. In high school, I started a hockey column in the school newspaper with a fellow hockey nut girlfriend. In homage to Coach's Corner, we called it "The Opinionated Fans' Corner". We liked being girls who knew more about hockey 10/

than most of the boys. It was a point of pride. But at some point during all of this, I realized Don was a xenophobe. Even so, I didn't want to face it. I realized it quietly. I started to seek out other analysts, other commentators who represented a more open version 11/

of what hockey could be. And over time, Don's comments got worse. Or else I got too aware to be able to ignore them. By the time my kids were old enough to watch Coach's Corner, and ask about him, my answer was that he was an old hockey coach who often said rude things 12/

I wasn't expecting Sportsnet to fire him over this. I truly believe it was a fireable offence, but my expectation of the hockey community, my expectation of the sport I love, is that it will disappoint me when it comes to questions of my identity, and where I belong. 13/

I know I'm not the only POC fan who feels this. I know most of us do. I still love it, and it still breaks my heart. People will look at Don and see a martyr. I look at him and see an adult I looked up to, and then felt betrayed by. I wanted to belong to his hockey community 14/

but there was never going to be any place for me. 15/15