Bernie on the Blues: Game 6 Could Be the Biggest Night in St. Louis Sports History

One more win …

One more for a ticket to Wonderland.

If the Blues can put the whiny Boston Bruins and their caterwauling coach Bruce Cassidy down in Game 6, the Stanley Cup will belong to St. Louis for the first time ever.

The tonnage of the magnitude of a Game 6 win is too hard to contemplate, let alone describe …

Let’s just say that the 2019 St. Louis Blues are carrying 52 years of history on their backs — and the task will not unnerve them. The responsibility isn’t too big or intimidating.

That is why this Blues team — after so many others had failed — is right here, right now, at this precious and exhilarating moment. This sacred moment. That’s why this team, unlike the others, is capable of completing the mission and erasing the sins and the slips of the past five-plus decades.

If the Blues can lift their maximum-effort, full-heart performance to a lever that’s as high as the rafters at Enterprise Center in Game 6, a championship banner soon will rise and follow … a banner that will hang forever in the rafters where the Blues’ hockey gods reside. And this 2019 Blues team — this remarkably resilient worst-to-first team that did not retreat, did not surrender — will live there too. Forever.

Sunday night can be a night of faith rewarded for generations of Blues fans. This would be first Stanley Cup for a star-crossed franchise that’s been plagued by weirdness, dastardly luck, flimsy finances, tragedy, ownership instability, strange occurrences, nonsensical personnel decisions, the incomprehensible firings of future Hall of Fame coaches …

A franchise that has housed plenty of superstar players and hosted so many seasons of splendid hockey that sadly faded before reaching the hoped-for, prayed-for parade down Market Street…

But if the Blues can deliver one final blessing on a special Sunday night… well, then. As the Rev. Al Green once wrote and sang …

Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down.

That, a lots of cold beer.

And one helluva party.

Because this would be the greatest single evening in St. Louis sports history.

Yes, that big.

(Thanks for reading … and hold on tight.)