Western Canadians might not like it, but some of their own still cheer for the Leafs.

The maple leaf on the sweater stood out because it was simple and true, just like the leaves in front of our house. I could also see a big red maple leaf in the middle of the Canadian flag in front of my school. It meant something to everybody, even to people who were new to this country.

- From the book "My Leafs Sweater" by Mike Leonetti

Sorry, Calgary. And apologies to Edmonton, too.

But with Toronto embarking on a Western Canadian road trip this week, it's time to come clean.

For those of us on the other side of forty, even the folks who still make their home on the Prairies, the maple leaf still tugs at the old heart strings.

Of course, that admission is high treason to young hockey fans who grew up picking sides in the Battle of Alberta between the Flames and Oilers. But here's a news flash: Long before Lanny McDonald finally captured a Stanley Cup in Calgary, his famous moustache belonged to the Maple Leafs.

It's never been easy cheering for the Leafs, but in the old days most people didn't have a choice. When I was growing up on the Prairies in the 1970s, the arrival of the Flames and Oilers was still a few years away and Saturday nights belonged to the Leafs. Sure, Montreal had a following, too. But it was easy to cheer for a team that won all the time and Canadiens fans carried the reputation of being front-runners. With magical monikers such as Lafleur, Lemaire and Lapointe, the Habs had a la-da-dee-da quality that carried the scent of French nobility. The Leafs, on the other hand, were an eclectic bunch who hailed from tiny towns that dotted the map.

- Darryl Sittler, who grew up in St. Jacobs, Ont., and went on to captain the Leafs.

- McDonald, Sittler's best buddy, was raised in Hanna, Alta. (In the 1960s, by the way, my dad worked for the newspaper in Hanna and also helped out in the penalty box at local senior games. There was a fresh-faced kid who hung out at the rink, telling anyone willing to listen that he was going to make it to the NHL one day. Well, it's been a long time since Lanny was fresh-faced, but he more than made good on that cheeky promise from the past.)

- Errol Thompson, the curly-haired sniper who teammates called "Spud" in recognition of his roots in Summerside, P.E.I.

- Tiger Williams, the tough-as-nails winger from Weyburn, Sask., who still gets one of the loudest cheers whenever the old Leafs are honoured at Air Canada Centre.

- Goalie Mike Palmateer, the Toronto Marlie-turned Maple Leaf who munched popcorn before each game and turned every save into a spectacular adventure.

These were the boys of Saturday night and the entire country made a ritual out of following their exploits. For youngsters raised in today's 500-channel universe where people expect every game to be broadcast -- and in high-definition no less -- it's difficult to explain how much Saturday night meant to Canadians. The anticipation would build all week as people waited to satisfy their hockey hunger.

And speaking of hunger, food was an integral part of the festivities. Every family had their own traditional meal (in our house it was macaroni and tomatoes with boiled weiners), but simplicity was the key so mom could wrap up her kitchen duties in time for the opening faceoff. With sports and other after-school activities, it was always a challenge to get everybody together and Saturday evening became an important time for families to break bread.

Today, of course, people hustle and bustle even more than 30 years ago and there's something else that's different, too. These days, a lot of western folks get a kick out of putting Toronto down and take great delight when the Leafs hit the skids.

But believe it or not, there was a time when Prairie people truly considered Toronto "The Centre of the Universe." Toronto, after all, was home to the Taj Mahal of hockey, Maple Leaf Gardens, and every fan dreamed of one day walking into the arena to see the Leafs live and in living colour.

Toronto was also the entertainment capital of the country, with "Wayne and Shuster", "Tommy Hunter" and "The King of Kensington" all originating from the CBC studios. As an impressionable kid, I always imagined the performers as one, big, happy family. Heck! If Tommy happened to forget his cowboy boots at home, all he had to do was wander down the hall and ask "Mr. Dressup" to dip into his famous tickle trunk and lend him a pair. But after moving to Toronto years later, I discovered the sad and sordid truth: those Canadian stars of the ‘70s rarely shared the same space, as the CBC scattered its studios throughout the city before gradually moving into a more central location.

It's also sobering to realize that as time goes by, fewer and fewer people will identify with the Leafs and the part they played in those special Saturday nights of long ago.

Nowadays, the Flames and Oilers are the straws that stir the drink in the West, and rightly so.

But when Lanny, playing for the Leafs, scored in overtime of Game 7 against the heavily- favoured Islanders back in 1978, it felt like the whole country (except for those insufferable Habs fans, of course) was united.

So, if you're a young fan of the Flames or Oilers who is hoping your hometown heroes lay a licking on Toronto this week, maybe you'll have a better understanding of your old man when he shows up at the rink wearing a tattered and torn Maple Leafs sweater.