Roller coaster, still getting over that stat...this is the first Game 7 Final since 1984 in Boston.
Go Bruins.
Perhaps befittingly, this is the 7th all-time game 7 in Boston, across the history of the Bruins, Red Sox, and Celtics.
Victory is assured. I call upon Framingham's own, Og Mandino, of
The Greatest Salesman in the World. To paraphrase, he noted that failure will never overtake you, if your determination to succeed is strong enough. You can't tell me that's not the case with these guys. Look no further than what feels like genuinely a superhero's effort with what Chara has done the past few games.
You know, as sweet as victory will be in around 20 hours, a part of me, as it will everyone here, die off a bit. It's the best possible way, but the journey, story this team took to get where they are today, this closes the book. There's no more but for a celebratory parade after this. Ah, but memories of what
has been, and what
will be.
But tonight? We fight. We fight not only for who we are as individuals, but what makes us a team. A city. A nation. Within that comes the pride of accomplishment, the glory of victory to tell the tale down the road to say that the Cup was ours this evening, and the honor to gain immortality. That despite the obstacles, the uncertainties, the reality was absolutely assured. That the bloodshed shall not be a mark against us, but rather to symbolize our resilience, and unending ability to fight for what we know to be right. That we could see every possible team clinch at home while the sports world was ours.
As we control the world, we shall be ruthless warriors. An unending battle, and a chance to make history. History states one thing, we will be champions of the world. There's one thing left to do. We play our game for at least 60 minutes. Fuckin' right, my friends. For Haunted's family. For Neely. For SoSH. Let's fucking go. We WIN.