If I were a Sharks fan, I'd first never ever do that shark chomp thing they do during power plays unless I was ten years old or younger. Even then I'd be mildly embarrassed.
Secondly I'd be licking my chops looking at this game. You can forgive some losses, but you don't forget the ugly ones and the 6-1 spanking Vancouver dropped on them in November won't be forgotten when the puck hits the ice. With some iota of revenge on their minds, not only will the Sharks be gunning at a tired team (third road game in four nights) with a key injury and their back-up between the pipes, but with Dallas idle the Sharks can move within a point of the Pacific division lead. You can see the future already: they barge out of the gate and the Canucks hold on for dear life for about ten minutes.
The good times won't necessarily end tonight but Schneider will probably need to pull another Dallas performance from his ginger rear. Without Kesler you could see an absolute mess outside of the Sedin line; that Raymond on the fourth line experiment may end quicker than you can say "hey are there seven men on the ice?" Edler/Bieksa/Hamhuis did a good job silencing Hejduk and the Douche, but Thornton/Heatley/Clowe/Marleau are a different story. If last night was a four pointer, then getting two points from a rested San Jose squad is the definition of a statement game.
Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing. Like the first monkey shot into space.
Tyler Durden, Fight Club
That first monkey's name? Albert. You're welcome.