Here we go again, into that dark cold… Um… Unreasonably hot night.

The Phoenix Coyotes have, for the second time, their hind legs hanging off a cliff. Shane Doan’s furry paws scratch and claw at the sand to keep the pack of pups clinging to his teets safe from falling to their doom. The Los Angeles Kings loom overhead, boots primed for grinding claws to dust.

The first two games of this series were not what we expected to see, domination and ruination. While we know we are the better post season team, Phoenix’s willingness to play dead caught perhaps both teams off guard. In games 3 and 4 we saw the two hockey clubs square off in a more familiar dance. Goaltending, defense and forecheck. Insane amounts of dirty play and hand-wringing seem to have finally taken a back seat to nose meeting grind stone hockey.

In game 5, expect war.

The Kings are out to make a statement to the Coyotes and more importantly to themselves. They may not have expected to sweep the series, but they’ll be damned if they let the desert dogs make it close. The faintest breath of life from the opposition is stench enough to fuel the fires against stagnation. Crash and bang baby, crash and bang.

In that vein, I predict a big come back game from Dustin Brown. Hs effort will pave the way for incitement of Kings and mental deconstruction of Coyotes. However I think this is the game that Mike Richards wins. He has been solid, but quiet offensively. With one foot on the gas pedal, someone needs to work clutch. Richards is clutch, let it be written, let it be done.

The Cup finals schedule was announced today. It’s the perfect day to make travel plans to New York.

The Kings will make no changes. The Coyotes may or may not have Adrian Aucoin.

We will have prayer.

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 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.

Blessed is he who is The Piece for the sake of wholeness.

As it was,
As it is,
As it shall be
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 again in Glendale
Hallowed be thy game.
Thy kingdom come, thy wills be done
On their ice as it needn’t be on ours.
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.

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.