All knowledgeable fans out there who understand the finer points of hockey can and will dissect the particular shortcomings that have led the Sharks to be down two games to none as they head out to Dallas.
I'm new to the game and don't pretend to be an expert. However, I think what was missing during Sunday night's display was 'heart'.
Heart. You know, the little pump that keeps you alive. Moves the blood you need to skate, to score and ultimately, to spill. Sharks, I don't know about a line change but it sure looks like you could use a heart transplant.
You're the team that the "yea-sayers" said would finally hoist the Cup. And at the very least, you were the team that was expected to at least get past this round.
I'm not saying it still can't be done but frankly, you better think seriously about how that's going to happen having just allowed an inferior team like Dallas come onto your home ice and beat you twice.
Where are the heart and the grit and the angst and the will to do whatever it takes to win? Where is the heart?
Perhaps a reflection upon some of sports more pithy catch phases will help turn things around? Ponder these while we run an EKG:
1. Winners never quit and quitters never win. (Translation—go into Dallas, pretend the Stars are the Cowboys and beat the crap out of them)
2. Win one for the Gipper (Translation—pick someone on the roster to be Gip of the day and win it for them. Take turns. It's fun.)
3. It's not whether you get knocked down, it's whether you get back up. (Translation—you will get knocked down. Just stay down long enough to draw some important penalty.)
Sharks, pretend you're as ferocious as your mascot (I don't mean the cute shark who runs around the Pavilion revving up the fans like trained seals) I mean the real mascot: the vicious, deadly, take-no-prisoners because you eat them too quickly mascot.
And for the love of God, get some heart. Don't flatline on us now.