Game 5: Do It, Flyers

We're thrilled to welcome back Flyers Goal Scored By for tonight's gamer. His words:

"We roll tonight. To the guitar bite."

Flyers at Pens for Game 5. At this point, how can one even try to formulate a hypothesis for what happens tonight? Would 10-8 surprise you? A 5-4 triple OT stunner? Maybe the only thing both sides can agree on is this game most likely won't be a 1-0 chess match.

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It's hard not to be confident. Moments later, it's hard not to panic. I don't think I'm alone in thinking about the second round, while preparing for a game 7 loss. It's easy to focus on Wednesday's debacle without remembering the Flyers have a 3 to 1 lead in the series. The Flyers are still playing with house money, while the Pens stayed their execution for a night.

Hockey is a game of momentum in motion. Pens got it right now, but all it takes is one shift, one goal, or one period to turn it all around. I have massive faith in Peter Laviolette. I imagine his message was clear and true following Wednesday night. He'll have this team ready to go end the series. I have just one simple request for the Orange and Black. Please, for the city of Philadelphia's heart health, stay out of the cot dam penalty box.

I would love to write a very long article about the ins and outs of tonight's game. About the stats and the strategy and the SABRmetrics of a power play. I can't. I can't sit still. My fingernails are gone, my senses are shot and I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk from Wednesday. I've been listening to loud, up tempo music, trying to "focus" like I'm the one playing tonight. I'm equal parts excited and terrified. I'm superstitious while trying to reverse all my superstitions from Wednesday night. I'm contemplating shaving a beard I don't even have. I'm having a serious conversation in my head about whether or not I should wash my Flyers jersey before or after the game. I see the color yellow on the street and react like I'm a vampire being given a garlic enema. The only thing to do is embrace the crazy. It *is* the playoffs after all. I've sunk into the abyss of crazy and the water feels great.

There's only one thing left to do: crack the road sodas and let's giddy up. The all-or-nothing days are back. This is gonna be a mega-ultra-super-unleaded-butt-clencher (clincher?). Bring an extra pair of undies to the bar, you're gonna need 'em.