But of course, it’s entirely out of my hands, and all there is left to do is summon a tiny little prayer.

So that’s what this is—basically, I’m begging. But I’m not proud (quite obviously!) so let me give it a shot with this postcard to the Vancouver Canucks:

Dear Canucks,

How are you? I’m good. (Drunk and anxiety ridden, but good.) But let’s get to the point here.

Please win this Game 7.

If not for a potential Stanley Cup down the line, do it for your fans! Save all of us from all the post-season “analysis” that says our team had “no heart”; that says our Sedins are “overrated”; that says Luongo is “never going to be a playoff goalie.”

Screw all those analysts and experts (and the jackasses who write for the Toronto Star and the Chicago Tribune). Make them eat their words. (Or, more likely, make them pretend they knew you were going to prevail all along. I think that’s about as much as we can hope for.)

Anyway, pull this off, and we won’t hold games 4 and 5 against you, I swear. They’re forgotten. Anyone even thinks about those games again, we’ll be sure to report them to Revenue Canada for a tax audit, promise. Anything I can do.

So get out there and make Chicago wish they were never born. Please? It would be a mighty fine way for us long-suffering Canucks fans to enter Wednesday morning…. perhaps painfully hungover, but with the unabashed joy that comes from shutting up every a#$hole critic in the league.

What a breath of fresh air that would be…

Your Humble Servant,
A.

P.S. Here’s the front of the postcard. Turns out Cee Lo loves you too.