FanNation - The Republic of Sport

It is games like these that tell you if who should be champion.

The Red Wings had nothing left to prove. They had been there... done that. They had summoned up the will to win before. They had stared down the barrel of the loaded Stanley Cup gun... and prevailed. They have been called, at various times, a machine, a Dynasty, and unbeatable.

The Penguins... who knew? Who knew how far they had come... how much they had grown? What they could achieve if they set their hearts to it...? Who knew if they could "force their heart and nerve and sinew to serve their turn long after they had gone..." Who knew if the Penguins had what it takes to be a Champion?

For two days everyone recited the litany of odds against them: 

The Red Wings were 11-1 in their stadium. The Penguins were 0-3 this year, 1-5 over the past two. They had only scored two points in three games at the Joe. Their last game there had been an embarrassment that left the world questioning their maturity, and their will.

It wasn't the first time this year the Penguin's will to win had been questioned. As the season hung perilously by a thread, the Penguins switched coaches.  A young and unproven coach took over a young and unproven hockey team. It was a team whose morale was shot, and whose very heart was questioned.

Dan Bylsma stood in front of this team and told them that the Penguins story for 2008-2009 had not yet been written. "You hold the Pen in your hand," he told them. "You decide how the story will be written."

That slogan was put on the T-Shirts that the penguins wore under their uniform as they took the ice for the playoffs: "Pen in the Hand." The story yet to be written.

As hockey pundits and bloggers all across the world attempted to write the story for them, the Penguins kept skating... kept fighting... kept writing their own story.

They defied the odds. They defied the pundits.

In the end, they defied explanation.

This was a team who went down 0-2 to the Dynastic Red Wings, and were written off... then fought back to pull the series even... the first time a team had done that in 4 decades. This was a team who lost 5-0 in game 5, and then fought back to win game six after all of the sportscasters had written them off yet again.

This is a team that played much of game seven with their star player sitting on the bench with an injury. A team where its young goalie - tarred with the brush of being inconsistent --  outdueled a goalie who was going for his fourth Stanley Cup championship. A team with a young Russian superstar who grew up not even knowing what the Stanley Cup was, and yet who -- in two seasons went from indifferent to incredible--The next time Alex Ovechkin drops to the ice to block a shot, let me know... Malkin was willing to do it on every shift.

Of course, there was a guy in the stadium that night, who knew all about selling out. One who knew all about the sacrifice it takes to be a Champion. And he was wearing a Red Wings jersey - though not skates. Muhammad Ali watched on from the owner's box at the battle that was waged before him.

It was not the way it unfolded when he was Champion. But, he must have had flashbacks of a strong and seemingly invincible George Foreman who threw punch after punch in the early rounds - hard hooks strong enough to break ribs if not the will. But Ali survived the onslaught... and so did the Penguins.

The Red Wings came out hard... they were determined to end this one quickly. Put a few shots in the net, like uppercuts to the jaw, and it would be over.

But the Penguins absorbed the blows, and as the first period drew to a close their counter punches were starting to wear on the Champs. The Champs looked tired... punched out. Swinging and missing takes a lot out of a team.

In the second period, shots began to land. First, the Penguins scored. But the champs kept battling... hitting. The Detroit crowd roared in delight as the Penguin Captain was forced to limp to the bench, hurt and done for the night, after a freak collision on the ice.

But the Penguins would not fold. They would not stop hammering the counter punches. And they scored again.

Suddenly, the champs looked too tired. They started making mistakes. Too many off-sides. Too many missed passes. The third period drew to a close, and the crowd was restless. Was this the end of a dynasty? Could the Champs find the will to - one more time - draw themselves up and wage fierce battle? It seemed impossible...

And yet... the Red Wings had stared down the barrel of the loaded Stanley Cup gun before, and prevailed. They were not done. Not even close.

In the third period, they came off of the ropes - like Ali had done years before against George Foreman - and peppered the champions with a constant barrage. The puck would only escape the zone for a moment, and the Red Wings would have it back again... slapping at the puck, throwing themselves at the defenders. Even a ref went down in the onslaught.

They finally managed to slice the lead in half with a blistering shot that lit the lamp and set the stadium fans on fire.

The Champs were back!

But... the Penguins were still there. Still blocking shots. Still sacrificing the body. Still paying whatever price was necessary. For the final five minutes, it was not a battle between an upstart challenger and long time champion - it was two full blooded champions fighting for the right to wear the crown. They stood toe to toe and traded punch after punch... waiting for one of them to fall... the crowd was screaming in a frenzy.

Fittingly, the game ended in a wild scramble at the end. Bodies crashing into bodies, the puck bouncing crazily... one last shot... one last fantastic save...

And then it was over.

The Penguins were the ones left standing...

They had shown the world that they deserved to be the Champions.

They had written their story... the story of the 2008-2009 Stanley Cup Champions.