Dear Santa Claus,

What up, player? How've you been? Still going strong, I hear. Good for you. It's important to stay active as you put more clicks on the odometer. Keep doing your thing, man.

So, what's the good word up in the North Pole? How's Rudolph doing? It's unfortunate what happened to him, man. I never thought he'd become such a prima donna. It always seemed like his head was on straight. But it's tough; the fame, the fortune, the women, the drugs. Everyone heard about the crazy parties he was throwing, and the intervention. I know those must have been tough times for you. Hopefully rehab did the trick, and Rudy's off the blow.

I've got to give you some props. Through all the drama, you stuck by and showed faith in your boy. Here's hoping Rudolph comes through for you this Christmas. Give him my best, and tell him to keep his head up. He's like the Josh Hamilton of reindeer.

How's Mrs. C? Boy, do I miss her cooking. I saw you at the mall the other day and it was pretty obvious that you're enjoying her exploits in the kitchen on my behalf. I kid, I kid. You looked great. Been hitting the gym? Doing some interval cardio, or some yoga? I know, I should have said hello, but I thought it might have been a little awkward in front of all the kids.

I know what you're probably thinking, Santa, and you're right; it has been a really long time. Time just flies, man. You know how it is. Before I knew it, I was all grown up. Now I'm caught up in the rat race, and closer to my 30s than my 20s. And that's pretty fucking depressing.

But I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch. For real. Unfortunately, I haven't been good on that front with a lot of people. I hope there's no hard feelings.

If there are, just think back to Christmas Eve, circa 1994, when you devoured those "special" cookies I left out for you. Man, I'll never forget that night. You were laughing so hard milk was flowing out of your nose. I pulled some crazy missions to keep my parents from coming downstairs that night, I hope you know that. And I still don't know how you managed to finish the rest of your run, especially after we passed the cookies to the gang up on the roof. Rudolph was bugging out, his eyes were as red as his nose, and Blitzen certainly lived up to his name that night.

Good times, Santa. There's no denying that.

Anyway, the reason I'm writing to you after all these years is because the sports scene is dire in Toronto these days. You're in the miracle business and, well, we could use a few. Trust me, this list won't be as long as some of the ones I sent you in the past.

Before I get into it, thank you for Dwayne De Rosario. That's exactly the type of shit I'm talking about, my man.

Santa, I know it's probably not in the best interests of the team in the long term, but I'm more of a short term kind of a guy, so, if it's not too much trouble, please sneak the Maple Leafs into the playoffs. Even if it means a date with the resurgent Boston Bruins. I'll take my chances against Tim Thomas over Henrik Lundqvist.

Look, it's obvious we're not finishing last, or even close to it. Tampa Bay and Long Island are the Sultans of Suck this season, and even those bastards in Ottawa have a better chance at John Tavares or Victor Hedman than we do.

The Leafs are playing great hockey of late, so how about a playoff round or two? What do you say? It looks like the team has a decent nucleus of players, and playoff hockey would be great for youngsters like Schenn and Grabs, and guys like Antropov and Ponikarovsky, who have stepped up in the wake of Mats Sundin's departure, and who are on pace to record career year's. Playoff hockey would be beneficial for our new number one centre, and leading scorer, Matt Stajan, too.

I know, Santa. I can't believe I wrote that about Stajan either. Kid's been a revelation.

Playoffs. Please. Make it happen. Even just one round. I yearn for post-season Leafs hockey in ways you cannot imagine.

Santa, moving on, the Toronto Raptors are in free-fall. Sure, they beat the Clippers the other night, but that's not exactly an inspiring victory.

My man Archimedes broke it all down: what else can this team do? They've done it all.

It's official, Santa. I want you to bring Vince Carter back to Toronto. I know, it's blasphemy, but he's exactly what this team needs: an explosive presence on the wing. And don't worry, I know my city. I have faith in my city. Once they see Air Canada take off in a Raptors uniform again, a dormant love affair will blossom once more.

Look, if you can't bring VC back to town, just promise me you'll find a way to keep Chris Bosh in a Raptors uniform past 2010.

One last thing, Santa. Is there any way you can get Manny Ramirez to sign in Toronto? He'd be one bitching designated hitter. I don't know, fix the global economy, or something. It would really help the Blue Jays out of a jam.

Even Jason Giambi will do, Santa. Just bring me something for the Jays, anything, because J.P. Ricciardi is being a real Scrooge this Christmas.

I know. I'm pushing it. Do what you can, my good man. I've got faith in you. You've never let me down before.

I promise to keep in touch this time. Enjoy the cookies. Merry Christmas, and all the best in 2009. And, Santa: thanks. You are appreciated.

Cheers,

eyebleaf

P.S. If it's not too much trouble, can you get the Sundin haters off his back? I know, I don't get why they just can't be happy for him, either. And a Stanley Cup for Mats and the Canucks would be super, too. Thanks. You the man.