"Game Seven"

"Game Seven." There is something magical but terrifying about those words placed side by side, something final but not without hope. It is the epitome of why the players play, why the fans watch and why lifting a 35-pound shiny trophy at the end of the year is so damn therapeutic.

The words of the eloquent Mike Lange cannot capture the notion any better, "I'll meet you in the schoolyard baby for all the marbles." This is the essence of "Game Seven."

Each series creates its own entanglement of emotions, villains and heroes."Game Seven" is the pinnacle, the end game, the final death-match. Tonight none of the previous six games with Montreal matter, nor does the 2009-2010 regular season or the previous playoff round, it's one game for everything. It's "Game Seven."

The writers, haters, bloggers and rivals have their articles ready for the Penguins, witty comments in hand, waiting to pounce; desperately hoping for a defeat at the hands of the eighth-seeded Habs. They have been frothing at the mouth awaiting this moment for almost a year now, but they have to wait just a little bit longer, cause they can't hit "send", "publish", or "comment" until after a defeat in "Game Seven."

Tonight is an opportunity ultimately, another chance for Crosby to answer the bell he has made a habit of responding to like clockwork throughout his young career. Last year's Conn Smythe winner, Evgeni Malkin, can quiet--once again, those tireless experts, who at any lapse in his world class game take the occasion to call him a "lazy European." A great game from Kris Letang renders his costly turnovers and defensive blunders throughout the series as merely an afterthought. Of course there is the Flower, the winningest goaltender in the playoffs over the last three years, who once again can shut the detractors up with a big game in another big spot, one more "Game Seven."

For Crosby, Malkin, Fleury and the rest of the crew, you can allow, at maximum, the critics 12 opportunities to venomously rip you apart as long as you provide 16 opportunities for those same critics to eat their words. In order to do this you have to win "Game Seven."

Then there are the fans. Most this afternoon will try to extract positive memories of "Game Sevens" past, Pietrangelo and Hrdina in '91, Kasparitis sliding face first across the ice in '01 and who can forget Straka on his back in '99. Just last year there was Fleury robbing Ovie and Talbot with a pair to win the holiest of holies. These moments mean nothing at 7:05 tonight except to steady a shaky fan's hand and calm their thoughts for a moment, in anticipation of "Game Seven."

Additionally there are those fans who will drown themselves in their own sorrows of previous "Game Seven" failures, will point to Tom Fitzgerald (PIT Assistant to the GM and noted Game 7 villain) and Glenn Healy (broadcaster and Islanders net minder in the 1993) being in the Mellon tonight as bad luck or a sign of horrible things to come. These fans will look to David Volek in '93, the Rats of '96 and the Wregget stonewall of '89 to ready themselves for the heartbreak, to prepare for the terrifying moment that is "Game Seven."

Tonight marks another pivotal playoff moment for the players and fans alike. This evening, at the Mellon Arena the right to move onto the next round and fight another day for Lord Stanley is earned. A few things can be counted on; nervous moments will be plentiful, new heroes will emerge, what-ifs will fly and many a six-pack will be crushed. The eyes of the hockey world will be upon Pittsburgh and one thing is for sure, someone will snatch all the "marbles." That's why we play "Game Seven."

Follow me on twitter here.