Dear Panthers,
As a seventy year old hockey fan and a Panther fan from the beginning, it is a thrill cheering on this assembled roster of skilled athletes instilled with the ‘constancy of purpose’ required to excel and succeed.
Last Monday evening in Sunrise, you took the ice determined to deliver a message to your opponent. By the end of the evening, their frazzled behavior was indicative of a successful delivery. Tonight, at the same venue and in the company of your loyal, non state tax paying fan base, you have an opportunity to severely damage that franchise’s dream.
A loss would not be a death blow to your mission but a win at this juncture will cleanse the bitter, after-taste lingering from game six of the Division series. Your inability to shred the tattered Leafs into submission that night gave fodder to their desperate followers. Winning game six fabricated a self-gratifying interpretation in their minds of how good the Leafs really were. They’re still losers but now they have achieved a higher delusional level of loser and for them, that’s a win.
Please, take this moment to hasten the conclusion of this current finals journey and put an end to the incessant pandering from the broadcast, print, internet and social media. No victory should be bestowed because of perceived, premeditated entitlement. To completely destroy a paper tiger, you must burn it to the ground. For that reason, tonight bring your flame throwers to game four and relish the task of sifting through the ashes for one more final victory.
Do not let them rise from the previous beat down, you made that error last cup final. Remember last year, when their rookie coach stated that you should be cautious about becoming the Buffalo Bills? We see or hear constantly how we are a sparse-in-number, uninformed, pathetic group of hicks who don’t understand the nuances of the game. Hell, we barely even know what ice is! The only reason we succeed is because we live in a location whose governing body does not impose regressive punitive taxation on its citizenry.
The vast majority of the talking head media and self-proclaimed hockey aficionados despise you. Sure, they toss an occasional, vapid, cursory compliment, usually followed by a ‘McBut’ this or a ‘Dribaby’ that. Many of these same frauds laud this year’s game two final as the greatest playoff game they’ve ever seen, but they just can’t help themselves. So next comes the caveat; “Oh yeah, you won in double overtime but the goal was kind of weak, did Marchand even touch it? BUT did you see that toe-drag pass #97 made”? “It was the greatest move by the greatest player I have ever seen.” BARF.
Thursday night stick a dagger in this two-headed creature and force it to limp back home. Then, slay it in its own lair surrounded by throngs of sobbing onlookers. Flex your road warrior might and return home victorious so we can bask in tandem, celebrating your remarkable achievement. The future looks bright for this band of bladed brothers. I’m certain Marti and Wayne are looking down smiling. Roger too.