Because Vancouver is golfing.

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Because St. Louis doesn’t know what hit them.

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Because Phoenix only has one dive left to take.

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Because our rookies don’t play like rookies.

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Because our leaders get the job done.

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Because if you don’t wear the Crown, you ain’t going nowhere.

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And if you do, there’s only one place to go.

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You don’t get nothing for three.

For win four, for round four, we pray.

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

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 Phoenix 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.

As it was,
As it is,
As it shall be
Evermore
O Thou Carter
Of goals!
With the forehand
With the backhand
O Thou Carter
Of goals!
With the forehand
With the backhand

Our Rookies, King of steadfastness, strengthened Nolan, Voynov foothold, support us against the disdainful people.

I profess myself a Penner-worshipper, a Pennercakean, having vowed it and professed it. I pledge myself to the well-played puck, I pledge myself to the well-delivered hit, I pledge myself to the well-fed monster.

Let us know victory.
For as long as the skates shall glide,
For as long as the chemistry shall flow,
For as long as the goal light shall shine,
For as long as the confidence shall grow,
Let us know victory.

Voices above,
Voices of Fans,
Yell from your couch or barstool;
Voices below,
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 Coyote their transgressions,
As we pound into submission those who trespass against us.
And lead us past the third round,
Past these evil Coyote fucks.
Amen.

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.
A-fucking-men.

Go fucking nuts.

GO FUCKING NUTS!

GO KINGS!!!