It’s almost comical at this point.

The script is for all intents and purposes set in stone. Every game down in the glorified trailer park west of the Mississippi the Blues will spend the better part of the first period running around looking to decapitate anything with an Indian head on the sweater. The Hawks then weather the storm and use their speed and skill to grab a lead, and then allow the Blues to helplessly flail trying to claw their way back onto the scoreboard before the inevitable dagger, only to resume the extra curricular bullshit.