Toskala is certainly entitled to his opinions. However, in the spirit of respectful dialog, Down Goes Brown would like to offer the response below.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. I'll pause for a moment while you configure your screen reading software.
It's now been ten days since you were traded. Soon you'll be making your debut with Anaheim, pending the resolution of some visa issues that were presumably caused by a customs agent who was a Ducks fan. In any event, it was probably a pleasant change for you to be involved in a story where something was actually denied entry.
You're currently involved in a mini-controversy with your new team, who have denied your request to wear your familiar #35. They're apparently unaware of how important that number is to you, given that it represents your approximate career save percentage. But let's not focus on Anaheim -- instead, let's take a look back at your time in Toronto.
You came to Toronto three years ago when you were acquired in a trade by John Ferguson Jr., which should have been our first hint as to how things would turn out. In your initial training camp you managed to lose the starter's job to Andrew Raycroft, which is somewhat like losing a slam dunk contest to Stephen Hawking. But eventually you assumed the starter's role, and fans in Toronto had a chance to get to know you.
You had your good points. For example, fans never had to worry about an extended streak of poor performances since you could always be counted on to fake a groin injury as soon as things went bad. You were responsible for more groin-related fakery than Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. The only legitimate lower-body injury you ever suffered was a chronic distended bladder, caused by your unfortunate habit of taking a small sip of water after every goal against.
Despite that, fans were prepared to embrace you. Toronto is a town that loves its goaltenders, from the prickly Ed Belfour to the comatose Felix Potvin. We were ready to make you our next goaltending idol, like Curtis Joseph. Instead, after three seasons the only Joseph-inspired activity we wanted to see you involved with was a roundhouse kick to the face.
(And yes, I could have also gone with "getting hit in the face with a Wendel Clark slapshot". But that would involve a puck making contact with you, and we have no actual evidence that that's physically possible.)
Since the trade, we've learned that you didn't enjoy working with Leafs goaltending coach François Allaire, who described you as "not a guy who likes to build relations with coaches". In fairness, Allaire was probably difficult to work with since his three Stanley Cup rings would distract you when he tried to point out that you had your pads on upside down. Word is you had trouble adapting to the famous "Allaire style", which includes such complex techniques as "Don't stand with your entire body inside the net", "Hey maybe try opening your eyes for a change", and "Seriously, get out of your net before I run over you with this zamboni".
Anyway, you may be gone, but we'll always have the memories. For example, you once allowed a 185-foot dribbler to beat you in Long Island. Many physicists would argue that it's impossible to get beat top corner by a puck that's actually rolling, but you managed to prove them wrong. Then you outdid yourself this season in a game against the Sabres, when you managed to reach out with your glove hand and deflect a harmless dump-in straight into your own net. The goal was watched with disbelief by Leaf fans around the world, who until that moment had been unaware that you actually owned a glove hand.
All this is not to say that everyone in Toronto is happy to see you go. The local twine-repair industry, until recently a multi-million dollar business, has fallen on hard times. But local environmentalists are thrilled that MLSE has significantly reduced its carbon footprint, since it will no longer have a red light bulb that stays lit for most of every game.
It didn't work out for you in Toronto, but I'm sure Leaf fans join me in wishing you best in your future endeavors. Good luck the rest of the year in Anaheim, next year in the KHL, two years from now in ECHL, three years from now in the GTHL, and, eventually, as the starter in Montreal.
Just get the hell out of Toronto. And don't let the door handle slip untouched through your fivehole on the way out.