The Alamo Game One.
These are dark days my friends.
When Matt Taylor, whose 1000 word treatise after game one galvanized the masses and brought hope to this little corner of the internet, writes a gameday that sounds like a letter from his deathbed you know you're in trouble.
When the San Jose Sharks, whose consecutive playoff streak spans the last eight seasons, feel a little jittery before a game five you know things are dire.
When the St. Louis Blues, whose 30-6-5 home record this season was second in the NHL, get a chance to secure their first playoff series victory in a decade you know things are going to be difficult.
That's the situation we find ourselves in tonight.
But this situation is one which presents a unique opportunity.
Tonight, ladies and gentleman, tonight is the chance to drag this series kicking and screaming back to HP Pavilion for a pivotal game six that will introduce a peculiar set of circumstances into the playoff formula. A place of refuge, where the thunderous bass and intimidating fog that settles throughout the pregame ceremony plants that tiny seed of doubt in the hearts and minds of the blue note. A place where, as Blues Head Coach Ken Hitchcock mentioned in the aftermath of game four, "has been a graveyard for so many teams this time of year." A place where an opportunity to catch a flight back to St. Louis with the wind behind your back is just 60 minutes away.
There will be time for I told you so's, awkward autopsies, and deeper analysis all summer if this goal is not obtained.
But tonight is not about that. Do not concern yourselves with it. Pay the Reaper no mind. He is irrelevant as he waits in the shadows, twiddling his thumbs while the fat lady readies her pipes.
Tonight is about finding a moment you can rally behind, whether that be a hit, a goal, a save. It is about not just finding a way, but understanding that one way is the only road in which your legs will find willing to walk.
Bring this shit back to San Jose.
Because then things get interesting.