On May 24th, 1994, Greg Adams scored in double overtime of Game 5 of the Western Conference Final to take the Canucks to the Stanley Cup Final. Tonight, exactly 17 years later, Kevin Bieksa did the same. For only the third time in their 40-year history, the Vancouver Canucks are going to the Stanley Cup Final. After winning Round One in 7 games, Round Two in 6, and Round Three in 5, are the Canucks destined to sweep the Eastern Conference Champions? Is this the (Stanley Cup) Final Countdown? 7-6-5-4. It has a nice ring to it. But before we look to the future, let’s reminisce about the past. The recent past. The Canucks just won a hockey game. I watched this game.

Following a tough loss to the Sharks on Friday, the Canucks played this game like they had a lot to prove. After giving up 5 goals on their first five penalty kills in the series, they made sure to take five straight penalties just to prove that they could kill them. Having struggled on 5-on-3 powerplays all season and failing to score on two on Friday, they slyly goaded the Sharks into three such situations just to prove that they could take advantage of them. And finally, to avoid any accusations that they were only winning because the Sharks were choking in the third period, they wanted to prove that they could win a game despite being outscored in the final frame. I, too, had something to prove: could I watch this game? Yes. Yes, I could. It wasn’t that difficult. I’m not even sure why I questioned myself. I watched this game.

Coming into tonight’s game, the Canucks had given the media very little about which to criticize them. If you were splitting hairs (and some did), you could suggest their penalty killing, 0-for-3 at that point, was subpar, but even that was a petty gripe. After all, it was a pretty small sample size, right? It’s not like they had given up five straight powerplay goals in the series or something. Mind you, then they did. And before you could say, “On second thought, I would prefer the majority of this game be played at even-strength,” they were down by two on powerplay goals by Patrick Marleau and Ryane Clowe. The Sharks would never relinquish the lead, although this might have had something to do with the fact that there was a Canuck in the penalty box for over half the match (32 PIM). Like the Canucks’ fifth man, I watched this game:

Like Richard Loney sprinting through the Star Spangled Banner, the Sharks came out flying tonight. Not literally, of course, as flying sharks would be absolutely terrifying, but metaphorically. After an initial push by the Canucks, an early penalty gave the Sharks a chance to find their feet (sharks with feet would also be terrifying), getting a powerplay goal and hitting a post on a near-open net shortly after. Unfortunately for them, that increased speed and intensity barely matched where the Canucks already were. The Canucks responded by becoming even faster and more intense. And while it is tempting to make this game all about Ben Eager’s lack of discipline that then spread to the rest of his team, that would do a disservice to how the Canucks outplayed the Sharks throughout the entire game. Yes, the score became awfully silly once the Sharks began parading to the penalty box (sharks on parade being the most terrifying mental image yet), but the Canucks earned the victory by being the better team, not just by taking advantage of the Sharks’ silliness. I should know: I watched this game.

For many, the big story of Game 1 will be the return of the Sedins, who broke out in a big way, leading the Canucks to a third period comeback with two huge goals. It’s true — this was a big deal. That said, I’m more excited about the return of something else: blown coverage. Defensive lapses! Odd-man rushes! Sweet, sweet space! After the Nashville series, which was tighter than a hipster’s trousers, I had forgotten how much fun it could to be to watch the Canucks versus a team that can blow an assignment. It’s downright refreshing. All three Vancouver goals tonight came off defensive errors, one on each San Jose D-pairing’s watch. Oh, and speaking of watches, I watched this game:

Tonight we saw the importance of a two-goal lead. In the first period, completely against the flow of play, the Canucks opened the scoring. They then took advantage of an odd penalty call to get an almost unprecedented two-goal lead. Then, in the second period, a familiar sight: on a shot from behind the goal line, the puck takes an odd bounce and slips in behind Luongo. Without a two-goal lead, that’s the tying goal and the game takes on a completely different complexion. Instead, the Canucks proceeded to make the final 36-and-a-half minutes of the game deathly boring, shutting down the Predators, the game, and the pleasure centers of the viewers’ brains. It is extremely fortunate that they don’t award style points in hockey (Note: if they start awarding style points, the Canucks need to sign Patrick Chan immediately). Still, while it wasn’t pretty, it was a Canucks game. I tend to watch Canucks games. It should not come as a surprise, then, that I watched this game.

A day after San Jose failed to sweep their series with Detroit, giving Vancouver the glorious chance to get at least a day’s more rest with a game five series win on home ice, the Canucks failed to capitalize, frittering away the opportunity with a night full of uncharacteristic blunders. Brutal blunders, like turning the puck over, giving up a shorthanded goal, or making Joel Ward’s July 1st price tag skyrocket. As Roberto Luongo said, “[Nashville] didn’t do anything special tonight. Whatever they got, we gave them.” He is correct. The Canucks outplayed the Predators in nearly every facet of the game, generating more chances, and even outscoring the visitors four to three. Problem was, some of those chances came in front of Roberto Luongo, and one of those four goals was scored into the wrong net. Like I said, blunders a go-go, all of which Alain Vigneault would probably classify as real bad. Blech. My mouth tastes sour, either because of the adverb abuse in the previous sentence, or because I watched this game.

Going into the third period of last night’s contest, I began to wonder if these two teams were stuck in some sort of Groundhog Day (or classic X-Files episode “Monday”)-style time loop, fated to repeat game one over and over again, until they got it right. Everything was just a little too familiar: Vancouver’s inability to put distance between themselves and Nashville, Ryan Kesler’s dominance, the one-goal lead heading into the third period. I soon suspected that Barry Trotz’s trap wasn’t a neutral zone trap at all, but rather, a time trap, where time just reset itself after undesirable outcomes. It was terrifying to consider the possibilities of a coach that could manipulate time, but it might explain why Trotz had retained his NHL coaching job for an absurd 11 years– David Poile still thinks this is Nashville’s debut season. Thankfully, however, Ryan “Timecop” Kesler broke through the time trap with a Van Dammean solo dash, preserving both the win and the natural progression of time. Yeah, I watched that movie. I also watched this game.

I have a very simple request of the Canucks, for the sake of my health and the health of all Canucks fans: no more one-goal games. I don’t think my heart can take it any more. The stress of knowing that one bad bounce can tie the game and send it to overtime causes severe heart palpitations. While I have heard many people claim that the two-goal lead is the worst lead in hockey, I prefer it to the one-goal lead. If the Canucks give up another tying goal in the back half of the third period I am afraid my heart might blow up and kill this man. Do you want my death to be on your hands, Canucks? Do you?

That said, I much prefer one-goal games that the Canucks win. While a broken heart is not as immediately life-threatening as a stress-induced heart attack, the long-term effects can be devastating on their own. Thankfully, the Canucks avoided the heartbreak of two straight overtime losses. Despite my doctor’s advice, I watched this game.

Game 2 of the Canucks match-up against the Nashville Predators bore a superficial resemblance to game 1, in that the Canucks got a 1-goal lead and held it. It would seem that the only difference between the two games was that Nashville managed to tie up the game in the dying minutes and win it in overtime. Watching the game, however, painted a different picture. While the Canucks were dominant in game 1, controlling the play and imposing their will on what appeared to be a significantly weaker opponent, the Predators controlled game 2, out-hitting and out-shooting the Canucks and winning puck battles and faceoffs throughout the night. Still, it took an unlucky bounce for the Predators to tie the game and some unreal goaltending from Pekka Rinne to earn the Predators the win. I noticed these differences for one simple reason: I watched this game.

Coming into tonight’s game, much of the setup focused on the potential for an emotional letdown for the Canucks, following the emotional high of Tuesday night’s Game 7 thriller. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Instead, we got an old-fashioned regular letdown; this game was flat-out boring. That said, maybe it’s what we needed. Could we have handled another crazy game? I’ve been drinking Gatordade since Tuesday just to get my electrolytes back up. Thanks to Nashville for giving my heart the night off. If the last playoff contest had make-you-sick-to-your-stomach intensity, this game was the Pepto-Bismol of hockey games. I watched this game.

The similarities between this game and last February’s Olympic gold medal game are uncanny. The remarkable performances by Ryan Kesler and Jonathan Toews; a star-making showing from the losing goaltender; Roberto Luongo losing the shutout on a goalmouth scramble in the final minutes; an overtime goal coming out of the corner less than ten minutes into the extra frame; the fact that it happened in the same freaking building; the fact that it will go down as of the finest games in the history of Vancouver hockey. This game had everything: it was intense, emotional, terrifying, heart-attack inducing, and then, in the end, immensely satisfying. And I watched this game:

Let us step back from our book-stealing, cheerleader-tossing, muffler-biting, pool-flipping ways for just one moment and take stock of what we just observed: that was an incredibly exciting hockey game. It was a nail-biting, innard-twisting, heart-pounding thrill ride filled with unexpected plot twists. The Canucks, after two complete no-shows, returned to form and played well enough to win the game; unfortunately, due to a couple puckhandling errors, an unfortunate bounce in overtime, and the posts not counting as part of the net, they didn’t. That shouldn’t take away from the sheer entertainment value of the game, nor should it take away from the excellent play of the Canucks. But it does. It takes everything away. In these few hours since the game ended, I can’t shake the feeling that the game sucked and that the Canucks were terrible. Because I’m a reasonable human being, capable of logical deduction, I can convince myself that such is not the case, but the emotions remain. This game was both exhilarating and excruciating. I watched this game.

It’s difficult to remain level-headed after a loss like last night’s, especially on the heels of Tuesday night’s blowout. I, like many, was thoroughly convinced that we would see a better effort from the Canucks, especially on home ice. How could they possibly repeat that craptacular performance? The good news: they didn’t. The bad news: they somehow regressed, letting this one slip away from them a period earlier than the game prior. On the bright side, it would be hard to let another game slip away this quickly, if only because the Blackhawks aren’t allowed to score goals during the anthems. Mind you, I’m fairly certain Chicago’s fourth goal was scored during the intermission, so maybe it’s possible to suck so hard you start the game down a goal. That’s how bad this game was. I watched this game.

The Canucks gave up 7 goals against only once this season, in the infamous Voldemort game against Chicago on November 20th. Though “Voldemort” implies that it shall not be named, like Dumbledore, I have never seen any reason to be frightened of talking about it. After all, the Canucks followed up the game by going on an incredible run, winning 17 of their next 21 games. The two games are remarkably similar actually: both games were tied after the first period, the Blackhawks scored four goals in the second period of both games, and Canucks fans collectively flipped the pool after each game. Also, both games were excruciating to watch. I should know: I watched that game and I watched this game.

After two consecutive years of being “outcoached” by Joel Quenneville, Alain Vigneault is winning this series with shrewd icetime management. Three days ago, he announced that he planned to limit the Sedins’ shifts to between 30 and 35 seconds, and he caught flack for it (Tony Gallagher said there had never been a dumber idea). Despite criticism, however, he’s followed through since. For the second game in a row, Daniel and Henrik averaged 35-second shifts. In a series where the Blackhawks’ stars are being played to exhaustion, the twins have been able to hop over the boards fresher than the prince of Bel-Air and score timely goals against exhausted opposition. It made the difference two nights ago, and it made the difference again tonight. I watched this game.

The Canucks went into game 2 of their opening round playoff series with the Blackhawks hoping to do something they had failed to do in two previous tries: win the damn game. They succeeded, too, although it was no picnic, perhaps because this isn’t the National Picnic League. Tonight’s Blackhawks had more jump, more grit, and more offense than the Chicago team from two nights ago, but unfortunately, they didn’t get to play the Chicago team from two nights ago. They played the Canucks, who had more jump, more grit, and more offense than tonight’s Blackhawks. I watched this game:

Prior to puck drop in this series, you might have wondered, at times, if the Blackhawks were the higher seed. A lot of people talked about how this was a good matchup for them, and how they had managed, in successive years, to get in the Canucks heads. We heard about Roberto Luongo especially, how the Blackhawks seemed to have his number, and how he was going to have to exorcise hordes of playoff demons. Then, Luongo didn’t make himself available to the media prior to the game, and the murmurs started.

But it turned out that Luongo wasn’t hiding from the media. He was merely consulting with Constantine, Buffy, and the kid from Reaper–a demon-hunting dream team, of sorts–in order to determine how best to vanquish these playoff demons once and for all. Clearly, it worked. Luongo was slaying Hellspawn all night. (Sidenote: it might be unfair to call the Blackhawks players Hellspawn, but this ain’t your grandaddy’s blog. Did your grandaddy have a blog? He probably just had a log, into which he etched his thoughts. You can get splinters from those. It’s barbaric. Thank God for progress.) I watched this game.

For the third time in the last four years, the Canucks and Flames found themselves paired up for game 82 with little on the line. Considering the lopsided outcome of the previous two season-enders, with the Flames walloping the Canucks 7-1 in 2008 and the Canucks matching that goal total in a 7-3 rout last year, one might have assumed that this contest wouldn’t be lively or close. But it was. Like extramarital sex with a ghost, this one was a spirited affair. After falling behind by two, Vancouver needed a third-period comeback and an overtime marker from Christian Ehrhoff to head into the postseason on a winning note. I watched this game.

After consecutive losses to the Edmonton Oilers pushed the city of Vancouver to the brink of martial law, you had to think a loss to the Minnesota Wild would be the tipping point. Fans, it seemed, were one poor effort away from killing one another for the contents of their refrigerators. Thankfully, the Canucks staved off a full-scale societal collapse by coming out in this one a little more interested in winning, and they were fortunate to meet a Wild team only to happy to help. The result was a shellacking that will likely quell civil unrest until the team loses again, at which point all the ammo and applesauce I bought will prove quite useful. In the meantime, I watched this game:

After watching the awful game on Saturday between these two teams, I was initially pleased that Harrison was on IWTG duty for that game and I was responsible for this game. Surely the Canucks would put together a better effort. Surely they wouldn’t lose to the Oilers two games in a row. Surely they would buckle down, straighten up, put their hand to the plow and nose to the grindstone, swing into action and and take the bull by the horns. Instead, like Buffy Summers (seen above), the Canucks were just going through the motions all game long. However, as our Twitter followers pointed out, when Buffy was going through the motions, she still won. The Canucks did not. And while I wish I had instead watched “Once More, With Feeling” again, I watched this game.

Last night was a bewildering stinker, the likes of which we haven’t seen in months, and it makes sense. While the Canucks didn’t throw in the towel, there was literally no motivation for them to play hard last night, apart from the fact that it was the right thing to do. The game meant nothing to them. Meanwhile, the Oilers were motivated. For them, a Hockey Night in Canada tilt against the best team in hockey (and a team they thoroughly despise), is reason enough to go all out. They did, too: the Oilers played a fabulous game, and unfortunately for Vancouver, this admirable effort coincided with the Canucks laying down a complete turd. I watched this turd/game:

Make no mistake: the Presidents’ Trophy is a pretty huge deal. Ignore anyone who dismisses it. It matters. Canucks fans have conditioned themselves to say it doesn’t–that only playoff success matters–but, if we’re being honest with ourselves, that’s only because we’ve never even been close to this accomplishment. We’ve steeled ourselves against the Presidents’ Trophy and, heck, the value of regular season dominance, too, because it’s never been within our purview. Now that it is? It feels pretty good. It feels momentous. Is it momentous? I’d say it’s momentous. In last night’s game, the Canucks won the Presidents’ Trophy. I watched this [momentous] game:

Canucks 3 – 1 Predators The two of us have differing views on goaltender’s duels. Keep in mind: Harrison enjoys basketball; Skeeter enjoys soccer. Our opinions regarding tight-checking, low-scoring affairs echo these tastes. This is also why, during games, Skeeter often screams more slide tackles! and Harrison often screams more black people! But we digress. [...]

Canucks 4 – 1 Blue Jackets What’s the remedy for a team that has very little left to play for? Pit them against a team that never has anything to play for. The Canucks coasted through yesterday’s Sunday matinee game, and probably deserved a loss for such lackadaisical play, but it’s pretty tough to outcoast [...]