This is the Stanley Cup Final. The place where every stick-wielding boy from Canada dreams of going. The place where every hockey mom across North America dreams of eventually driving their hockey-smelling minivan full of hockey-playing kids to. The place where Bobby Orr, Bobby Clarke and Bobby Hull made dreams come true.
This is the Stanley Cup Final. Regular season statistics are irrelevant. You may have been through two or three (or seven) goalies to get to this point. It doesn't matter what number pick you had in the 2007 NHL Entry Draft, what you did with it or who you drafted. It doesn't matter if you cruised into the playoffs or had to win the final game of your season in a shootout to get in.
This is the Stanley Cup Final. A place where will can triumph over skill. A place where desire can transcend size. A place where wanting it more can best needing it more. A place where the unknown and unheralded can beat the greatest of the great.
This is the Stanley Cup Final. Kate Smith lives here, the cheering lives here.There are no underdogs, there are no favorites. There are only two teams--the Chicago Blackhawks and the Philadelphia Flyers.
This is the Stanley Cup Final. We've heard the analysis, we've listened to the predictions. But when it all comes down to it, the only thing that matters in the end is who's hoisting that illustrious trophy, that be-all, end-all trophy. I want it to be the Flyers. I get goosebumps simply imagining it being the Flyers. But it's up to those wearing the Orange and Black to give the chills of exuberance or the chills of despair to the countless fans who, for whatever reason, love this team much more than they should. This is the Stanley Cup Final.