The Kings and I are back in Los Angeles. We have brought with us two more road wins for you.

I also bring warnings from Hell / Newark.

There will be much fanfare by the NHL before the game and with it, the hockey gods will perform temptations. Enjoy what you may, but be wary, there will be people with TVs strapped to their backs. You will be drawn to them, but stay away my friends, stay far away. They will ask to take your picture with your arms raised so that they may digitally impose Lord Stanley’s Cup in your hands over your head. You will want to do it, your children will want to do it. Show your resolve, buy your child a souvenir instead. Do not succumb to the draw of this digital affront to the hockey gods, free though it may seem. No one may hold the Cup over his head, digital or otherwise, until it has been earned.

It has not been earned. Yet.

Also, if you plan to bring a physical model of the Cup to the game, think otherwise. Simply believe in and cheer for your Kings and the real thing may just be there on Wednesday because with a win tonight, the Kings can put a stranglehold on the Stanley Cup Finals. A loss and the New Jersey Devils are given a glimmer of false hope.

The big question is how the Devils will respond to having squandered a home ice advantage that no 6th seeded team has ever enjoyed in the Cup finals. They were two whiffs away from being up 2-0 instead of down. Dejection or reaffirming of resolve?

I don’t dare to question which is the answer. The Devils will be desperate. There will be a balls to the wall press to get the first goal. Whether Kovalchuk is injured, if mega millions can buy a shred of soul, Ilya better hope to have gotten a receipt. But what of the the Kings, Brown and Williams? Two top players who have played below their own set playoff standards. If Devils must rise to the challenge of avoiding imminent failure, so must Kings killer instinct drive the infliction of a fatal wound.

Neither team has of yet played up to its desired level.

As this is the first Stanley Cup game that will be witnessed live in Los Angeles in 19 years, let us be the X factor. There is only one moment that I would expect to be louder at Staples Center than tomorrow must be and that involves a weight being hoisted over a number of Kings players’ heads. If the Kings must fight a battle, let us make the call to war.

If you do not have tickets to the game, you should still find yourself in LA Live by 5pm tomorrow. Show this city that there is no greater thrall to fandom than the impassioned Los Angeles Kings fan. Tomorrow let all hockey markets bear witness to how wrong they are when they presume that LA does not care about its team. Anyone can root for a team that is winning. Can you show up and make the earth tremble with love, roar with excitement, by the power of your passion and the burgeoning of your hockey soul’s fulfillment?

You can.

We will.

Oh hockey gods, we are yours, yours is the will and the way. For safe and victorious passage through game three, we pray.

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

Glory be to the Captain,
And to the Son of Philly,
And to the Holy Goalie
As it was in the beginning, is now,
And ever shall be,
Playoffs with the Cup end. 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.

In hockey heavens who is great? Thou Kings art great!
On ice who is great? Thou Kings art great!
When thy voice resounds in hockey heaven, the hockey gods fall prostrate!
When thy voice resounds on ice, the NHL kiss the snow!

Peace be upon no New Jersey 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.

Lord Stanley the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devils.
May hockey gods rebuke them, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Icy Hosts -
by the Divine Power of hockey gods -
cast into defeat, DeBoer and all his Devil spirits,
who roam throughout Los Angeles, seeking the ruin of our hockey souls.

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.

I think over again our regular season.
Our fears,
Those small games that seemed so big,
For all the vital wins
We had to get and reach.
And yet there is only one great win,
The only win,
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the silver light that fills the Cup.

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 Devil their transgressions
As we pound into submission those who trespass against us.
And lead us past this final round,
Past these evil Devil 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.