Another terrific game marred by that effin' reffin' but it was probably the best performance by both teams in the same game. The Oilers played inspired hockey but Carolina seemed to find their groove in the second and never let go. I figured the Canes to be the better team overall and, when all else is equal, they would be far more likely to emerge.
I was wrong about the high-scoring affair. Shots were down, the respective PK were great, and scoring chances were kept to a minimum. However, the scoring chances which did arise were exciting as anything these playoffs have offered, and both Markkenen and Ward relied on a bit of that ol' Grant Fuhr luck rubbing on their pads. Or maybe that was some of the defective dasher boards which peeled off. Either way, fans of the Shiv Town Lardbirds cannot blame the loss of Roloson if the inevitable occurs.
I called Staal to have a multi-point game (yes, I thought incorrectly that he'd bag three) and I thought Samsonov was due for some scoring, which he provided. Yet, aside from the few scoring opportunities afforded to Whitney, neither Horcoff, Smyth or Weight seemed to garner some significant chances, and so I shouldn't boast about my predictions quite yet. Ah well, maybe next game.
But I'll try to predict the future nonetheless. Will the Oilers win one more before the series is out? Perhaps. I wouldn't be surprised if they pulled one out of their ass in Raleigh but I can't see them winning more than that one. Their spirits are looking as deflated as that shot of Whyte Ave just shown on Sportsnet, and there is no way they can rely on spirit and spirit alone.
The entire team is going to have to give all they can muster, but none moreso than Pronger, Peca and Smyth. All three of those gentlemen have been merely okay but none of them have led their team the way they can or how they're supposed to. Perhaps this is overwhelming for them. At the end of the Western conference series, they were caught up in the jubilation of donning those nifty ball caps and high-fiving each other as if they won something worth more than a bag of spit. Contrast that with the subdued Brind'Amour, Weight and Wesley, all of whom seemed to recognize the poignancy of the moment and kept their grins to themselves. In other words, the leaders of Tobacco Belt hockey appeared to have a greater sense of purpose than their counterparts in Alberta's Second City.
Or maybe that's just me.
It's been a good ride, and it's not over yet, but I don't recommend you to schedule your babysitter for Saturday night.
