Feather will be around tomorrow for a full wrap, because duh.
These are the new dark ages. I hope you’re living right. Welcome to the new dark ages, and the world might end tonight.
Because we’re animals with golden rules who, who can’t be moved by rational views, yeah.
Yeah, can you hear the call in our rambling land? Susurrations that can expand beyond all hope of light and plunge us into unrelenting night.
at 
Game Time: 8:00PM CDT
TV/Radio: NBCSN, CBC (Anglo), RDS (Franco), WGN-AM 720
Let Me Ride: The Royal Half, Jewels From The Crown, Battle of California
After less than 48 hours since Game 5 and its breakneck pace, the Kings, Hawks, their coaching staffs, upper management, fans, and the general sporting public have barely still all barely caught their collective breath. And there’s still the absolutely terrifying prospect that tonight will be as equally insane, if not moreso.
Spared no expense.
Stellar Theater: Mr. Verdi
Going back to Cali: CTA
Not Dead Yet! HockeeNight
Clearly we are a big hit “in the room”: Chicago Tribune
and that’s ok: The Score Canada
Hopefully DARPA can figure out how to fix Patrick Sharp: ABC
It’s funny. We’ve been doing this blog for six seasons, and I think if you asked all three of us if there was a game that was simply beyond us, we wouldn’t have an answer. We might have one, which was Game 6 against Vancouver in 2009. But other than that, I really don’t think I’ve seen anything like tonight. Sure, at points both Finals against Philly and Boston reached a ridiculous pace. But there was an element of control in those.
This? This was in-the-red, eyes-tearing, consciousness-erasing shit from just about the 2nd period on. If not the 1st. I can honestly say that at least from the 3rd period on I’ve never seen a hockey game played at that pace. This was going plaid. It felt like I was thrown on an untested roller coaster pumped full of coke and seated next to Ted Nugent.
Even in sending the series back to L.A. for Game 6, the Hawks are still stranded on an island facing elimination. And their only hope will be to build a raft of twine, palm tree trunks, and clean defensive zone exits. And their imaginary friend Wilson Handzus possibly set adrift at sea.
