So now that I’ve finally calmed down from game 4 (that’s a lie, I haven’t calmed down. At all) I am ready for the game tonight and boy is my wallet thanking me for watching this one at home, where the food is better and the beer is cheaper. Other than those two things, I would like very much for my experience watching game 5 in a living room to mirror watching the last two in section 315. Yes, that means I’ll be yelling at the TV, maybe I can get Surly Cat to join me in a cheer.

I don’t have the brain right now for thinking about the “keys” to the game tonight, or whatever you want to call it. What I will say though, is that despite playing a majority of the game down by a goal or two, at no point did St. Louis truly scare me on Monday.

Oh sure, they had their moments, and a healthy enough number of shots, but their goals were… Meh. We were the more dangerous team and were rewarded with the hard-fought and spectacularly talented goals. Didn’t take no goofy bounce off the glass or awful rebound for us to score – though a timely splayed Blue at center ice helped. Our offense finally broke through the way it does best, off marvelously skilled rushes created by forced turnovers and hard-nosed cycles that had the Blues defense reeling and our stars getting open in front.

These are the things that win will us game 5.

It will be interesting to see what kind of game we get, whether both teams crack down and we see another low scoring affair, or if the floodgates have now opened and not even the brilliant play of either goalie can stop it. Scratch that, Jonathan Quick can stop it.

Taking this one on the road is huge. That goes without saying. Winning our third game in a row puts double pressure on the Blues, sending them to the brink of elimination as well the fear that they could very well lose four in a row once more. Ain’t nothing like an nagging trauma to rear up and bite your ass just because you made the mistake of thinking about it. But I get slightly ahead of myself.

Game 4 was a turning point. In the playoffs, you are punished for failing to drive a stake through the eyeballs of your opponent when given the chance. Be it in a single period, as the Kings saw in game 2 when they failed to score a padding goal despite dominating the play. Or in a best of seven, as the Blues did on Monday when they couldn’t hold on to two leads and keep the Kings from tying the series.

We got a big old momentum shlong swinging between our legs right now and… I’m not going to finish that analogy.

It’s time to stop chatting and time to start cheering.

It’s time to pray.

Our Kings, these defending Stanley Cup Champion Kings, who art in the motherfucking playoffs,
Hallowed be thy game tonight.
Thy Kingdom come if thy wills will be done,
On their ice, because it’s about damn time.
Give us this day our goals, however many are needed,
So that we may forgive ourselves not taking the series lead sooner.
And in the meantime give these dicks from St. Louis a sound slapping.
That we may be led past the first round,
Past these ugly ass Blues,

Let’s shatter glass and pierce our neighbor’s eardrums. Beat our chests and celebrate crisp passes, crushing blows and dance under flashing red lights.

Let’s go watch some damn Kings playoff hockey.

And go fucking nuts.