I don’t have much to say. I think I said too much last night.

I plan to say more tonight. Well… Maybe say is the wrong term. Yell. Bellow. Scream. Twist? It could happen. Shout. Definitely.

The Kings have a golden opportunity tonight, one they have not had in ages, to take a 3-0 lead on their opponent. The fact that this opponent won the President’s trophy, knocked us out of the playoffs two years ago and are in general, a despicable, despised, deplorable, donkey shit excuse of a collection of human beings, makes the prospect all the sweeter.

Kings make no lineup changes. Don’t need to. The Canucks will start Cory Schneider, though I don’t particularly care.

The crowd will be electric. The energy, palpable. I want this transmitted to the Kings in confidence. Use us Kings, not to manipulate but only to bolster the steely passion and controlled intensity that you have exhibited in the first two games.

Time for a roll call. Will you be there tonight? Will you be wild, insane and louder than the guy standing next to you?

Before we feast, before we unleash beasts and excise what demons we may, we must say our prayers.

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

Blessed are You, Kings our Team and Team of our fathers, Team of Dionne, Team of Luc and Team of Gretzky, the great, mighty and awesome Team, exalted Team, who bestows bountiful goals, who creates all wins, who remembers the insanity of the fans, and who, in love, brings a redeemer to their fans’s children, for the sake of Our Kings.

Our Kings, who art on home ice
Hallowed be thy game.
Thy kingdom come, thy wills be done
On our ice as it was on theirs.
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.