Because Jonathan Quick is an All-Star.
Because Anze Kopitar is a beast.
Because Dustin Brown is our Captain.
Because everyone contributes.
Because the players have earned it.
Because the fans deserve it.
Because winning is the only option.
One step at a time. The Blues are underfoot.
We pray for that next step.
In the name of the Captain, the Son of Philly and the Holy Goalie.
Bless us Oh Hockey Gods, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through LA Kings, Our Team. Amen.
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’ children, for the sake of Our Kings.
Peace be upon no St. Louis fan, without mercy or blessing of Kings.
Holy Sutter, Holy Stevens;
We give you thanks
that your Schemes, Attitude and Leadership
Are manifest with Power and Pressure
throughout all zones,
within all lines,
and we accept your Tutelage now,
in defense and forecheck.
I pray to the wunderkind, the play-maker, destroyer of all cap space, the enemy of forwards, of great brilliance, the descendent of Orr and of Borque, the one who shines like the Dewey flower.
I invoke and call upon thee O Father Mitchell,
Lord of long stick, Master of all lanes and gaps.
I invite you to the blue line;
Defend it, sustain it, make it home.
Voices of Fans,
Yell from the stands of Staples;
LA King’s Inner-voices,
Speak from the dreams of childhood;
So may our playoffs be beautiful.
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 Blue their transgressions,
As we pound into submission those who trespass against us.
And lead us past the second round,
Past these evil Blues 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.
GO FUCKING NUTS!