5. TCU Horned Frogs at Baylor Bears 10/11/2014
The college football playoff has so far proven to be a bit
of a snoozefest in regards to unpredictability.
The introduction of the playoff in 2014 seemed like it would be the
catalyst to an exciting college football championship season that would finally
allow some little programs to take swings at some titles. What we have received
instead is an annual gathering for three of either Alabama, Clemson, Ohio
State, and Oklahoma always walking in, with one charity spot to a David like
Notre Dame or Georgia, without much doubt about that result entering conference
championship weekend.
What excitement we did get, came in year one in 2014, with
the likes of TCU, Baylor, Arizona, Wisconsin, and Georgia Tech all having a
legitimate chance at getting in the final weekend of the season. The largest point of contention among the
playoff committee seemed to be what in the world do you do with this game?
TCU entered the game 4-0, having pulled a big upset over
Oklahoma the week before and Baylor at 5-0.
Baylor had spent the past two seasons finding a way to be more Oregon
than Oregon, testing the limits of the point-a-minute offense method, with the
nice little wrinkle of getting to play in the Big 12, where defense is always optional.
TCU had just implemented the hurry-up offense during this
season and were finding they were rather well suited for it, throwing up 82
points on conference foe Texas Tech later in the season when operating at peak
impress-the-committee-by-running-up-score efficiency.
Merely 18 months ago, these were two afterthoughts not just
nationally, but in their own conference.
Kansas State and the two Oklahoma schools had been firmly established as
the conference favorites on an annual basis.
TCU had found a lot of success a few years early in the Mountain West
Conference, but were going through the expected growing pains of joining a
power conference. Baylor had spent most
of the past forty years residing the space in the conference we now think of as
being reserved for Kansas.
So what seemed to be an early battle for conference
supremacy was stunning to see on paper.
The game unfolded the way you might expect with the offenses being what
they were. TCU grabbed a 31-27 halftime
lead and the pace never slowed down. The
lead stretched further from there, peaking with a 58-37 lead after a
interception return by Horned Frog Marcus Mallett (defense?) with 11:58 left to
play. The Baylor offense was
potent. And fast. But they would need three stops still and
time was short. It turns out, the Bears
had a miracle in their pocket. The Bears
needed only seven of those minutes to pull even at 58, with star receiver, and
future Cleveland Browns bust, Corey Coleman, hauling in the game-tier with 4:42
still left to play. The Horned Frogs
failed to score on the ensuing possession and Baylor found themselves with enough
time left at the end to not just scramble for a tie, but to win the game
outright with a field goal as time expired to send a stunned TCU home to ask
what if for the rest of their lives.
Entering the final weekend of the season, TCU had recovered,
won the rest of their games and improved to number three in the playoff committee
rankings, Baylor held the tiebreaker for conference champions, but had lost to
a much lesser opponent in West Virginia since.
The Horned Frogs seemed likely to be the first sign of the playoff
making things fun again in the championship chase….. until they didn’t.
TCU finished that final weekend off by beating Iowa State
55-3, then being dropped to number six in the polls anyways, to let (who else)
Ohio State into the playoff. The game
ultimately ended up merely meaning who got to claim first team out and who got to
claim second out, as Baylor jumped them in the polls to #5. The Horned Frogs would spend their bowl
season making the Ole Miss Rebels look like a bad Sun Belt team. Seven years later, and I’m still convinced
TCU was the best team in the country that year, but 12 bad minutes will always
leave an uncertainty.
2017 College Football Playoff National Championship Game: Clemson
Tigers vs. Alabama Crimson Tide
More story time from my parents living room. The date was January 9th, 2017. On
that night, I was supposed to go to my church community group. A few minutes before I was planning to head
over, I got the text that we had cancelled for the night. I threw my phone on the ground and cursed in
anger. Community group was my ticket out
of this game, without which, I knew I couldn’t make myself not watch (I’ve
really matured, as I write this, I have no idea what the score of the
Alabama/Ohio State “National Championship Game” is, or even if it’s over).
I hate Alabama. I
hate their stupid logoless, numbers only helmets, I hate their toothless fans,
I hate their elephant mascot that exists solely because they have a freaking
logoless helmet and something has to be the mascot, I hate the staleness they
bring to college football, I hate their garbage quarterback who I have nicknamed “stumpy”
because he throws a football like there is a fingerless club at the end of his
arm but manages to win anyways because his amazing receivers are always open
and his pass protection is flawless and he can run through anyone because he’s
a better rusher than passer, I hate their garbage “Rammer-Jammer” chant that
starts in the late third quarter because no one ever taught them that simply
memorizing words that rhyme and have no poetic meaning and regurgitating them
in order isn’t a real thing that college educated people should do, I hate S-E-C
chants, I hate that even if they don’t play in their own conference
championship game they still get to play in the national championship game, I hate
Crimson, I hate incest, and I hate mother-bleeping Nick Saban. They win, they always win. These two teams played for the title last
year, and I really do mean, essentially the exact same teams, and Alabama won
then. You know what Nick Saban never
does, and I mean ever, has a worse game plan the second time he plays a team
than the first.
So I sit down as my mom goes full mom mode, knowing full
well I have an unreasonable level of investment in college football, and
immediately gets to work trying to convince me that Clemson can win. My mom, who should be convincing me that I
should just not watch the game, who doesn’t know Nick Saban or Deshaun Watson’s
names, tries to convince me that Clemson will win. And if I’m being honest, that isn’t super encouraging. It probably makes me angrier. So what do I do?
I watch the game, of course.
For three quarters, I’m right. Alabama isn’t dominant but they’re better,
the way they are always better. Spoiler
alert, the next time you watch an Alabama game, they’re better. Sometimes they don’t play better, and that is your only hope. And as the Tigers stay within scratching
distance, the fourth quarter still opens with stumpy holding a double digit
lead.
And with two minutes to go, stumpy holds a three point
lead. The Tigers have the ball, and start to drive down the
field, and I’m still furious. My mom, who
has managed to tolerate me for four quarters now, is still sitting on the couch
playing Candy Crush while occasionally looking up and telling me to have a
little faith.
As Clemson crosses midfield, I curse again (a practice I don’t
use often). Why are they giving me
hope? I’m not writing that now, I say
that out loud when it happened. I refuse
to budge. 40 yards to paydirt is too much
grace for the Tide to allow, I’m legitimately fuming that they’ve dragged me
along this deep into the game. They get
into field goal range with thirty or so seconds to go and I’m seething. Field goal range with time to spare, this is
where they get greedy. They’ll go for
the end zone and Tidey McTiderson will snatch a pick to seal the game. Watson will play Russell Wilson ball and get
sacked to knock them out of range.
I
hate the Tigers now. I’m maybe angrier
with them than I am with the Tide.
Why.
Are.
You.
Doing.
This
To.
Me?
With 4 seconds to go they are now
at the 1 yard line with a dead clock. I’m
dying. This will be the hardest loss
Alabama has handed me yet. 4
seconds. Just long enough to believe you
can get a play off but not long enough that if a single thing goes wrong, you
can still get the field goal team on the field.
They’ll try for the win and loss the opportunity for the tie. A quick slant throw is the only play I will
accept. I just know they’ll throw that
goal line corner fade I hate so much.
God help Dabo Swiney if they throw the corner fade. I will fly to Death Valley and cut his throat
in front of his family if they throw that corner fade.
With one second on the clock the
ball is thrown to Hunter Renfrow.
RENFROW???? HIM????
If you don’t know college football
well, let me explain this to you. Alabama
doesn’t recruit human beings to play in their front seven. They recruit freight haulers, refrigerators,
and marble slats that have been grafted with human organs. A true crime against humanity that they get
away with year after year.
Hunter Renfrow can fit in
an Alabama defensive lineman’s bicep.
Hunter Renfrow is a single player, that exists on every elite college
football team, they all keep a Hunter Renfrow as a joke to remind the other
team that they don’t even need to put a real athlete on the field at every
position to beat them. He is the after
dinner snack that the Donner’s wash a real meal down with. Hunter Renfrow is a can of Campbell’s Chicken
& Noodle Soup. Hunter Renfrow
started as a tumor that was growing inside Christian Wilkins, but they had him
removed, and taught him to run wheel routes (The ESPN app has just alerted me that Alabama has won
the “national championship game”, fitting).
There is a steakhouse about 20 minutes outside of town that has a famous
combo for the extra hungry, you can get a 20 ouch sirloin with a 12 ounce New York
Strip on the side. Hunter Renfrow is
that 12 ounce New York Strip. Hunter
Renfrow exists because a player placed their pads on him after practice
thinking he was the rack that they just set them on when they’re done with them,
and he just never took the pads off.
Hunter Renfrow is the dry bones that Ezekiel watched muscles regrow onto
in the Bible. Hunter Renfow is the bird
that Randy Johnson killed throwing a fastball. Hunter Renfrow is just honest Pinnochio.
All jokes aside, this is
Hunter Renfrow.
You could legitimately
fit two of him into an Alabama lineman and have a few pounds to spare. I know he looks like a high school freshman, but
the “man” is a college senior. I could beat
up Hunter Renfrow. Hunter Renfow is a
statistical anomaly that somehow keeps ending up on football fields. And Hunter Renfrow, with one second left on
the clock......
CATCHES THE GAME WINNING
TOUCHDOWN FOR CLEMSON!
I wait for a second to
celebrate. You see, I still don’t
believe it. I watched Ohio State/Miami
in 2003, I’m waiting for the bogus flag to fly onto the field. Surely the play is being called back for
excessive branching of the family tree or something.
But no. Hunter Renfrow, a
hand puppet with skin, has actually caught the game winner for the National
Championship game. You can look it up,
it happened in the real world, not just in my head.
I leap off the couch and
celebrate with my dad, my mom turns from her (let’s say it’s a book now, not a
phone. It’s my blog and I’ll revisionist history this if I want) book with a big
smile on her face and says, and this part I remember distinctly “next time
maybe you’ll remember to trust your momma.”
I don’t even like
Clemson.
And for the record, the
next time was the Alabama/Georgia 2018 national championship game we already
discussed. Next time, I’ll still trust
Bama.
3. Super Bowl XLIX: New England Patriots
vs. Seattle Seahawks
This game was the coup de
grace on what I would have to label the most razor-thin margin of difference
across playoff teams that I can ever remember.
The entirety of the NFC
playoff race seemed to be decided by a questionable call by a referee or coach,
or the smallest mistake by a player, and here, it all culminated with an NFC
team making that final mistake in the march to being infamously
remembered.
It started in the opening
round, where a very questionable no call ended up costing the Detroit Lions
their game against the Dallas Cowboys.
The Cowboys then moved onto Green Bay, where another questionable call
of an incomplete pass to receiver Dez Bryant was crucial in helping Green Bay
win the game and advance to face these Seahawks. That game, as already discussed in the preamble
to the decades top ten, was essentially handed away by a mishandled onside kick
by the Packers.
And then we get to this
game.
Seattle was looking to become the decades first dynasty in American professional sports. A chance to win back to back Super Bowls,
coming off an absolute beatdown of the high flying Denver Broncos the year
before, the other half of the litmus test was on the table. In other words, the Patriots are the boss
level at the end of the video game.
Peyton Manning seems awfully tough to grapple, and when you beat a team
he leads, you feel like you’ve hit the ultimate accomplishment. Then, you realize the boss is still
left. Tom Brady doesn’t come alone to
the fight, he brings the GOAT in tow with head coach Bill Belichik, and oh
yeah, there’s always a top ten defense there too.
To this point, the
rivalry between Manning and Brady was already legendary, but in my mind, mislabeled. You see, to me the great rivalry was Manning
vs. The Patriots. Same thing? Not quite.
Manning’s career had long
been defined by mostly what-ifs.
Many of those what-ifs come in the form of postseason losses, frequently
to New England. The Brady/Manning
narrative usually hinges on this and Brady is usually undisputedly handed the
title of GOAT with the only supporting argument for him being ring count (at least
at the time this game was played). Rings
aren’t an individual stat, and when the two went head to head, Brady didn’t usually
outshine Manning, rather New England's defense and special teams play would
greatly outshine their namesakes on the Indianapolis roster.
To me there was no
debate, Brady had won more, a lot more, but Manning was better. His throws popped more, his stats were much
more impressive, he had endured a turnstyle of coaches and coordinators through
his career (unlike Brady), and he had really been the driving reason for his team’s
success his entire career. The ring
count battle overlooks things like the fact that Brady didn’t even start half
of the season they won their first Super Bowl and that New England mostly asked
him to be a game manager for the first six seasons of his career. In the ten seasons since that mindset
changed, the Patriots had always been a tough out, but they hadn’t actually won
anything, and Brady seemed to have a penchant for letting Peyton’s lil’ bro Eli
get his when it mattered most.
But this game was the
first time that I had to start considering Brady among the greats on his own
merit. He was masterful. The Seahawks
weren’t simply the defending champs, they were the defending champs based on a
suffocating defense that left most opponents longingly watching the game clock
to see when they get to finally go home and get out of the rain. When the Seahawks went up ten with just under
5 minutes to play in the fourth, I wrote the game off. It was over, the crowd amassed at my brothers
house to watch the game could turn our attention to the commercials and not
worry about the game results.
Then Brady went to
work. Erasing the lead and taking it for
himself just outside of the games two minute warning. What ensued is the most chaotic two minutes
of sports I can recall. The Seahawks
started their drive slowly but steadily and worked down the field. The pace didn’t seem urgent enough and it
felt they had to make some changes.
Wilson fluttered the ball downfield into a sea of bodies, and in one of
the most unbelievable catches I’ve ever seen, Jermaine Kearse ends up with the
catch while laying flat on his back in the field. All of sudden, the clock was Seattle’s
friend. On the next play, Seattle legend
and cultural icon, Marshawn Lynch, rushed the ball and pushed it ten yards
upfield to the 1 yard line. There was
still plenty of time on the clock and Seattle trailed by four. With the ultimate bruiser backfield weapon in
the game today, and maybe of all time in Lynch, it was a certainty that Seattle
would score. The game now would turn to “should
we try to bleed the clock out first?”
And then, in a postseason
littered with all those strings of what-ifs together, the Seahawks told the
Packers, Cowboys, Lions, and referees to hold their beer. With Lynch in the backfield, from the one
yard line, the Seahawks call an inside slant throw. This is, without question, the most ostracized
play call in football history. The
inside slant at the one isn’t merely a bad play call in this situation, but in
all situations. It is the most jumbled
part of the field and with no extended field to protect, all the linebackers
and safeties are up. It’s the hardest
place to throw a football in any game scenario.
What happened was stunning, not because of the result, but because of
the attempt.
Previous unknown,
Patriots corner Malcolm Butler, intercepts the ball in the end zone, but momentum
carries him out of it. The Patriots will
take over the ball inside their own one.
The room goes quiet, the Seahawks sideline becomes a meme farm, and the
tears in the city of Seattle are suddenly falling more than the rain.
The Seahawks had one last
chance though. Taking absolutely zero
chances on a catastrophic offensive play, the Patriots line up in the victory formation. With about ten second left, they are going to
take an intentional safety, kick off the ball, and believe their defense can
hold out that two point lead for the remaining seconds.
The Seahawks jump
offsides and instead bring the ball out to the six. But wait there’s more. Infuriated by the game results, tempers flare
on the Seattle defense. Shoves ensure,
unnecessary roughness flags fly, and in the end, the Patriots kneel out the
clock just shy of midfield to bring Tom home his fourth Lombardi, and in my
opinion, the first he can claim as hard earned by him. The debate for the GOAT started here.
2. Alabama Crimson Tide at Auburn Tigers
11/30/2013
The story of this game
cannot be properly told without the story of the season.
The Auburn Tigers entered
the season with roughly a snowballs chance in hell as their championship odds
at most Las Vegas sportsbooks. The Tiger
program had spent the past two seasons bottoming out under recently fired head
coach Gene Chizik. The Tigers had actually managed to win the national
championship just two seasons before he was fired, with the Cam Newton led team
in 2010. I still remember Cam as having the
best season in college football history that year. Statistically speaking, that’s not even close
to true. His numbers from that season
have been topped several times in the past decade, even within that same
conference, but because he took his team to the top as national champions with a
team that wasn’t really very good. Sure,
he should have been ineligible to play that season, but he did play, and he was
incredible.
Normally national
champions are teams that cakewalk through a schedule, they might be tested a handful
of times, but most weeks the starters sit the fourth quarter out. There was little of that to be found on the
schedule, with a dog fight to the end being the norm on the Plains. Without Cam, this team probably goes 4-8, the
defense wasn’t even bowl game worthy.
So two years without Cam,
and Chizik manages to prove that narrative right, going 3-9 in 2012,
culminating in a 50-0 shutout loss to these same Alabama Crimson Tide. One year later, the Tide walk into
Jordan-Hare in a winner take all game.
The Tigers, after losing once early, have ripped off a 10-1 record. New head coach Gus Malzahn had implemented a
read option heavy offense with a tempo often reserved for other conferences,
and it worked majestically.
Alabama walked in 11-0,
Auburn walked in 10-1. The winner would
take the SEC West and take on 11-1 Missouri in the conference championship
game. Essentially it was a two week,
winner goes to the national championship game gauntlet. The 3-9 Tigers of a year ago were a distant
memory. They were underdogs in this
game, but small ones.
Alabama controlled the
first half, they weren’t new to this type of atmosphere and it showed. A 21-7 lead before halftime felt formidable,
but not insurmountable. In the second
half, Malzahn got the offense cooking.
Nick Marshall eliminated some of the sloppy play from the first half and
evened the game at 21 early in the third.
After Alabama answered, Marshall made one of the most beautiful run
fakes I’ve ever seen, before flicking the ball upfield to Sammy Coates for the
tying score with 32 seconds to go.
Alabama got the ball back
with very little time to work with, seemingly just one second less than they
needed. T.J Yeldon scrambled upfield and
out of bounds just inside of feasible field goal range as the clock hit zero,
on to overtime we went.
Until we didn’t.
The referees took another
look and determined that he stepped out before the clock hit zero, and the Tide
would get to run another play.
The Tide at this point
had vastly outplayed the Tigers between the twenties, but had sputtered in the
red zone all game long. Cade Foster had
gone 0-3 on field goal attempts in the game, and with one second left, Saban
decided to quit on him. He opted instead to walk alternate kicker, Adam Griffith, onto the field to attempt a 57 yard
game winner. That field goal attempt
would win the game, just not for Alabama.
The kick sailed just
short and was caught and fielded at the very back of the endzone by Chris
Davis. Davis picked up a few good blocks
along the way and 109 yards later, trotted into the end zone for the most
memorable ending of my lifetime. The
Auburn faithful immediately stormed the field, my phone blew up, and I lept off
the couch running literal laps around my house screaming “TIDE LOSE, TIDE LOSE,
TIDE LOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!”
Waiting excitedly for my
now ex-wife to join the celebration (she had a small interest in college
football, but it didn’t match mine, and she had long since retired to the bedroom)
and wondering how I had not caught her attention with all the hubbabaloo, I
entered the bedroom to elicit a response.
She was laying on the bed with headphones in. She turned to see me standing next to the
bed, panting, and catching my breathe from the aforementioned laps around the
house. I was greeted with a removal of
the headphones and a somewhat annoyed question of “what’s going on with you?”
1.
2019
NHL Playoffs, First Round – Game 7: Las Vegas Golden Knights at San Jose Sharks
We’ve introduced you to
this series already back at number ten.
In that game recap, I talked to you about the backstory of Martin Jones' goaltending woes, and how they had made the game result so unbelievable. What we haven’t discussed yet is everything
else about what made this series so special.
Meet the San Jose Sharks.
A 1991 NHL expansion team, from back in the olden days, when expansion was
hard. If you have tracked an expansion
team, besides the other side of this same series, you know the hell that is
entering the league as a new franchise, not just in this sport but in all of
them. The Sharks took about five years
to figure it out, then got to work building what became one of the most
consistent winners in the league.
Entering the 2018-2019 season, the Sharks had made the playoffs in 13 of
the past 14 seasons. They had a formula,
and it worked. Well, to be more fair, it
worked until the playoffs started.
The Sharks had become
perhaps the league’s most consistent choker over that same stretch. For Sharks fans, that 14 year stretch may
have been easier to swallow if they had just kept losing. It included a President’s Trophy award (given
to the team that finishes the regular season with the most points) season,
where the Sharks were sent home in the second round of the playoffs, and in a
separate season, blowing a 3-0 series lead to their hated archrival Los Angeles
Kings. They did a lot of winning that
never really brought home the joys of winning.
Three seasons earlier,
coming off the lone season during that stretch where the playoffs eluded them,
the Sharks finally found a formula for postseason success, and made it to the NHL finals
for the first time. They failed to win
the Cup, dropping the series in six games, but at least the jinx had appeared
to be broken.
Enter the 2017-2018
season. The Golden Knights had entered
the league as the first expansion team in over a decade, and they were entering
alone. Vegas had been gift-wrapped the
most favorable expansion rules I think anyone has ever been given in American
professional sports. In their first
season, they managed to win the President’s Trophy themselves, knock the Sharks out of the
playoffs, and advance to the Stanley Cup Finals. They didn’t win, but in one season, the
division rival Knights had managed as many finals appearances as the
Sharks, and as many President's Trophies to boot. That didn’t sit well with most
NHL fans, but to Sharks fans especially.
Entering the 2018-19
season, the Sharks had aggressively gone all in on winning the cup. The team’s core was now solidly over thirty
years old collectively, and the clock was ticking for their championship
window. In the preseason, general
manager Doug Wilson had reeled in the prized trade the whole league was
chasing after, Norris trophy winner Erik Karlsson.
He had paid a hefty price for him as well. After the season ended, they had a free agent
group that included Karlsson, team captain Joe Pavelski, and the most popular
player in team history, Joe Thornton.
Resigning them, along with the other free agents wouldn’t be
possible. The time to win was now, there
wasn’t going to be an option for later.
All those hopes and
expectations for San Jose had seemed to hit a wall late in the season, with the
Sharks dropping 9 of their final 11 regular season games, they had barely held
onto the second seed in the division, which amounted to home ice advantage in
this game seven tilt. A key missing
component in that ugly streak, the absence of the aforementioned Karlsson, who
was now back on the ice.
For two periods, the teams
played hockey like exactly the teams they were, desperate, hungry, and talented
title contenders, with hatred for the other team. Both teams were playing excellent and to
their skill level, but unfortunately for the Sharks, that meant that the
netminding advantage was sharp in Vegas’ favor.
After two periods, the Sharks were outplaying the Knights on the ice,
but were losing on the scoreboard 2-0.
Knights goalie Marc-Andre Fleury was putting on a vintage performance
and was stopping everything. If Martin
Jones had been in the Knights net, the Sharks would have 5 on the board, but
they had Fleury and were pitching a shutout instead.
At just under four
minutes into the third period, Max Pacioretty added a third Golden Knights goal,
and the writing was on the wall in San Jose.
The Karlsson trade and the clawing back from a 1-3 series deficit had
been for naught. Fleury was in the zone
and three goals in 16 minutes felt impossible.
With just under eleven
minutes to play in the game though, it went from bad on the scoreboard to
painful for the heart. Following a face
off in the Vegas zone, Cody Eakin lifted his stick up high, and jacked Sharks
captain Joe Pavelski right under the jaw with his stick. Pavelski stumbled backwards, and another
Knights player drove him into the ice head first. Play quickly stopped as a near motionless
Pavelski wiggled slightly in pain while blood poured from his head onto the
ice.
At that moment, I was
despondent. The Knights hadn’t just
ended my season, they had killed my captain.
Exaggerated? Sure. He wasn’t
going to die. But he was certainly not
reentering the game, and the expectations were well known among Sharks fans
that the Sharks wouldn’t be able to resign him after the season. The series, season, and team membership of
Pavelski were going to end with him being slowed walked down the tunnel with blood
gushing out of his head.
That hit hurt Pavelski,
but it would end up hurting Vegas more. The referees saw fit to award a major penalty to Eakin for the hit. For those not in the know, a major penalty
is five minutes in the box and he doesn’t get to reenter the game if the Sharks
score. They will have a 5 on 4 advantage
for the full five minute period.
And they get to work
using that advantage. It takes about ten
seconds for Logan Couture to knock in the first Sharks goal of the game. The SAP Center explodes, releasing the
tension and angst of both the game and the injury they had just watched. Couture doesn’t waste a second celebrating,
he holds up a single finger and says “that’s one” to communicate to his team they
are still two away from a real celebration.
Four and a half minutes left on the penalty.
49 seconds later, and
Tomas Hertl deflects a shot past Fleury and it is now cut to 3-2 Vegas. Things slow down a bit more from there, the
Knights lock down their defense just enough for Fleury to return to form. A mismanaged pass ends up with a 2 on 1
advantage for the Knights and it appears the work to come back was for nothing,
then Martin Jones makes his best save of the game, knocking the shot
aside.
The Sharks push the
advantage back up the ice, and with roughly 90 seconds left on the power play, Couture
knocks his second goal in to even the game.
The stadium, and I, both erupt like they just won the Cup. Couture puts his hands up to the sky and
motions his fingers back down towards himself as if to say “now I will allow
the celebration” it’s a brand new game, and the Sharks just need to win the
next six minutes.
Thirty seconds later, the
celebration kicks up another notch, as the Sharks take a 4-3 lead off a Kevin
Labanc goal, still with enough time on the clock to add an insurance goal. The broadcaster for the Sharks exclaims, in
his best attempt to be neutral and professional
“I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!”
The insurance goal never
came though, and with ninety seconds to go, the Knights come out on fire. They pull the goalie, bring in the sixth
attacker and make a mad rush at the net.
The Sharks never get an opportunity at the empty-netter as the Vegas
attack is air tight. Jones makes a few
great saves before Jonathan Marchessault sneaks in a game tying goal with 47
seconds remaining. Off to overtime we
go.
And in overtime, the game
shifts back to game 6 in spirit. The goalies
take over. Both teams are getting
outstanding looks, and Jones and Fleury are both batting them aside almost disdainfully. As we go under the two minutes mark, a second
overtime seems certain, until with a great takeaway, Erik Karlsson, yep that
guy they went all in for, sends an outlet pass up that few defensemen could
ever make. He hits Barclay Goodrow in
stride, who has a one on one look at Fleury, and manages to push the puck about
one inch past his skate for a game winner.
The Sharks celebrate on
the ice, the arena becomes a madhouse, and Fleury slumps in agony in
defeat. He gave all he had and if it
wasn’t for a cheap shot, it would have been enough. The Sharks found a way to generate several
more injuries through that postseason, and while advancing to the Western
Conference Championship, never got a serious look at the Cup they were
chasing. The all-in push fell short, but
the captain got a few more moments, and this one felt good enough to make for a
happy offseason anyways.
So that’s the full
list. Half the fun in lists is fighting
and nitpicking about them. If you have
disagreements on them, sound off in the comments. Here’s to hoping for another great decade of
sports (once, you know, they feel like real sports again).
