As my brothers and sisters of puck watch our L.A. Kings achieve success in the post season and as we walk together to the Western Conference Finals, some false precepts have spun their way into our fans’ collective minds, have caused and continue to cause unnecessary distraction and, if not addressed, may cause crippling incertitude.

The jinx. I have heard the term spoken among my fellow fans. It is a self diluted dogma founded upon superstition, without basis in science or fact. Its foundational premise is that something you (you referring not just to the you that reads this article but others around you who you believe are similarly capable of releasing this accursed pretense) do can cause a material change to the game’s ultimate outcome. This delusion, for example, causes one to believe a particular pair of pants he or she wears, the manner in which the person posits their daily routine, the words they speak or the thoughts that may percolate in their head affects the trajectory of the puck or the way in which L.A. Kings players, or that of the other team, perform. I have witnessed this fallacy control a fellow fan’s thoughts and actions, to the point said fan becomes paralyzed if he or she makes a mistake in putting forth the proper foot before the other, fails to stop at his or her requisite burger stand or any number of machinations. I once witnessed a young man break into a panic when, at his pre-game establishment, he learned the brand of beer he always drank before a game was not available on a particular game night and watched his psyche steadily break down wherein he blamed himself for every missed pass, errant shot, defensive gaffe or goal against. It was with guilt and retrospective shame that I agreed with him and proceeded to persuade him to decry with elevated volume the indignity of it all, as other patrons looked on.

What is this power that controls otherwise intelligent folk like yourself? Would you believe that simply because you thought about your girlfriend’s breasts today that you are doomed not to touch them again or, worse yet, your best friend is touching them now? As an aside, if you are an attractive woman with such specific breast related thoughts of your similarly aesthetic and ideally disproportionately well-endowed significant other, I welcome a detailed elaboration of same in the comment section below. Of course you would not! What madness would that be? Why you would be fit for a 5150 hold or, worse yet, indoctrination into a cult with promises of paradisiacal glory. But this is not politics. This is hockey. We have no agenda, no will to power. We love our team, support our team and wish the earned honor upon them, all symbolized by a silver chalice we call the Stanley Cup. We recognize that our control over our beloved comes only in two forms – our fandom that expresses itself through our claps, chants, cheers and emotions and, equally consequential, devotion to the Hockey Gods.

Contrary to the sacrilegious aberrations of the jinx, the Hockey Gods are living deities whose mysterious ways have guided our great sport of hockey to its current illuminated state. To those who are cultivated, I write of that you already know. To the others, I welcome you to this lesson with love and peace.

First, know that the Hockey Gods are not infallible. They, like us, have the capacity to evolve and grow, just as the game has done for decades.

Second, they are not jealous Gods that lash out at detractors. Their ways are more subtle and lead to a self-awareness which brings truth into focus and renders its application self-evident.

Third, they are not Canadian. They used to be but the events of the past 19 years as well as the mere existence of the Vancouver Canucks speaks for itself as to why such identification was simply inconsistent with an enlightened being.

But for the Article of Faith I bring you today, all you must know about the Hockey Gods and their ways is that they demand, above all, an allegiance to your team and the game, one that is born of love and respect. Many have the adulation. Many must learn the reverence. I will bring you one example. On Sunday, Surly threw a displeased grimace at a fan who screamed the word “sweep” with many minutes left in the game. I believe Surly’s reaction was due to his belief that such utterance had a potential destructive force. Surly would be wrong just as he would be right. The word “sweep” with time left has no impact of a jinx variety. However, when the Hockey Gods listen to such lack of respect for the game, they could become displeased. Fortunately, the lone transgressor was an irrelevant noise for Surly and I, among over 18,000 others at Staples Center and many more at homes and bars around the Americas and globe, did not share in that pre-ejaculatory sentiment and were instead swept up in the sheer joy of watching our Kings defeat the St. Louis Blues 3-1 in the game and 4-0 in the series.

I hope I have brought clarity to all Kings fans who grace us with their presence on the pages of this site. I ask that you, like Surly and I, bring the highest order of love and respect to the L.A. Kings and the sport of hockey as we progress through these Stanley Cup Playoffs and skate closer to our Holy Grail.

May the Hockey Gods bless our team.