In mere moment s I begin the long trek to D.C. to join the muster of the Red Army. My brothers and sisters have already begun to assemble there and my heart beats a little faster at the thought of joining them.
The "others" are coagulating there in small bands of black and gold, white and gold, and some even clothed in a ridiculous baby blue. But we will wear one uniform, one color, one bright reminder of our unity. The proud, we bold, we unwavering Red.
I have no real thoughts on the game other than to be there, and that my family of full-throated fanatics will do all we can to bolster those who fight for us. Which brings me to my single idea. What if, and it's a dream I know, but what if, everytime the Kid touched the puck instead of booing, the arena silenced. Not a sound. Would we be able to unnerve the young star? Would he hesitate for even a moment? It would certainly be startling.
In any event, I have a bigger dream. Why not just drub him and his team.