It’s another day. A rainy, miserable day.

But this thunder and lightning that beats at my door pales and trembles at the flash and the bang that crashes through my heart. Roars echo, cascading off living room walls and bar urinal stalls as the LA Kings take playoff ice once again in Vancouver.

Tonight, the Canucks face the prospect of shame. Shame imposed by our own strong will. Shame deserved by their own impudent souls.

Daniel Sedin will not be there to help them. Andrei Loktionov will be called upon to hurt them. Andrew Ebbett replaces Byron Bitz and Keith Ballard replaces Aaron Rome. That adds offense to their game while sacrificing what some may call grit but is more truly the trademark of abused childhoods and gang wars.

Our game must be one of discipline, ambivalence and the narrow focus of the righteous journey into the unknown. Vancouver will come out hard, heavy and insistent on proving the last game to be a fluke. We must not allow this to change our game, only to elevate it. We must not expect to have seen their best. They will look to contain Mike Richards. If the deeper in the playoffs we get, the better he gets, then he shall not be contained.

Build on the last game. Continue Doughty’s aggressive play. Carry on with Mitchell’s lethal stick work. Greene’s positioning diminishing his lack of foot speed. Williams’ genius in tight spaces. Brown’s bipolar directionality. Kopitar’s stalwart 2-way game. Cohesion.

Say your prayers.

In the name of the Captain, the Son of Philly and the Holy Goalie.

Our Kings, who art in Vancouver
Hallowed be thy game.
Thy kingdom come, thy wills be done
On their ice as it is in practice.
Give us this day our daily goals, and forgive no Canuck their transgressions,
As we pound into submission those who trespass against us.
And lead us past the first round,
Past these evil Canuck fucks.

Hail Kopi, full of grace, the fans are with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst players and blessed are the fruit of thy skills, goals.
Holy Kopi, dominant of centers, play for us sinners,
Now until the hour of our Cup.

Go fucking nuts.