An Ode to Playoff Hockey

There's nothing in the world like playoff hockey.
If you know, your friends are already aware that your social availability is going to significantly decrease over the next couple of months, and if you don't, well…maybe you'll have some idea by the time we're done here.
This is the start of the best two months of the year. The passion, intensity, drama and talent on display is enough to take you away from the soap opera at work, your piles of laundry, and the overly inflated chunk of change you owe the IRS after getting your taxes done last week - if only for a few hours.

The first two rounds are my favorite because you're literally flipping back and forth between multiple games all night every night. In fact, as I'm starting to write this, I'm watching Colorado/Seattle and Vegas/Winnipeg. (shoutout to Alex Faust who is currently calling the game from Vegas!) Even a hockey novice can't help from getting lost in the speed and skill of the game and if, by chance, you don't have a dog in the fight, you still might find yourself getting sucked into all the storylines from the other series.
But I do have a dog (lion?) in the fight, and Games 1 and 2 in Edmonton served as my aerobic exercise for the week. I was on the edge of my seat the entire six-plus periods (I mean, who wasn't?) and in overtime of Game 1 my heart was pounding like the LA Kings Drum Line - okay sure, maybe part of that had to do with the wine, but I digress. Getting down 0-2 in the first period of both games made my vocal reaction to each Kings goal that much more organically explosive, and I'm sure my neighbors were none too pleased. For Game 5 I'm seriously considering distributing those little care packages that creative moms give people on airplanes when they take their babies and toddlers on flights - you know, the ones with the earplugs, snacks and whiskey shots.
On my way to Game 3 I saw a "Go Kings Go" banner on one of the bridges over the 110 freeway. Well played, LA Royal Army, well played!
I arrived at Crypto.com Arena early Friday and wanted the fan experience.
While attending the pre-game fanfest, I met Cindy, who has been a season seat holder since the early 1980s - the Great Western Forum days! She told me that she once missed a family wedding to attend a playoff game! She obviously refused to give me the family member's name for her own safety, and what can you say? Priorities.
Fan Fest was…hot. Let's hear it for playoff hockey in 80-degree weather! I noticed a fan in a dark-colored sweatshirt who was carrying layers to add on once he got inside. This gentleman, Joe from Boston, doesn't get to games that often and said he's only been to a few playoff games, his first being during the Kings run to the Stanley Cup Final in 1993 when he attended a game against the Canadiens.
"For me it's really special," says Joe, who figured out early that the energy level in the playoffs hits another tier.
I loved seeing all the fans, sweaty brows and all, take advantage of the opportunity to soak up the playoff atmosphere - there was face painting, tons of photo ops, giveaways, ball hockey, the beer garden, and of course no Kings Fan Fest would be complete without Daryl Evans signing autographs.
I made my way into the building just before the opening. You could already feel the electricity in the air and the raucous tension amongst the fans. There was more of a stir in the crowd and fans, with their nervous excitement. Everyone was more vocal, even on the concourse. As always, the opening video and sequence set the stage and energy level high. I particularly loved the heartbeat audio because it's incredibly relatable to any fan who watches the playoffs, sans adult beverages. The deafening scream of the crowd began when the Kings took the ice, and the volume level alone told you this was no ordinary game. The swirling towels and accompanying lint storm were the cherry on top.
Game 3 had everything. If I was trying to convert someone into a hockey fan (when am I not?), this is the game I would show them. Unlike the first two games of the series, the Kings came out flying. Literally. When Viktor Arvidsson took that hit in the first period I must have had quite the look on my face, because the fan in front of me happened to turn around, took one look at my face, and reached out and grabbed my forearm with compassion and support. Thankfully Arvy is fine, but that moment reminded me that in the playoffs, perfect strangers become kin and it's wholly acceptable to get locked in a passionate embrace with the person next to you, whether you're at home, the game, or some random bar you happened to be driving by when the game started.
The Kings' hard work in the first period saw them rewarded when Alex Iafallo scored with 33 seconds left in the first period. The building erupted. Going into the second period up one was huge. The score remained that way until two consecutive power-play goals in the second period gave the Oilers a 2-1 lead. That lasted a good 18 seconds (actually 18 seconds, not being facetious) before Adrian Kempe tied the game on a rocket of a slap shot while the Kings were on the power play. Kempe's goal celebrations need their own Twitter account.
As the rest of regulation wound down with no additional goals scored, that sinking feeling of impending overtime settled into my already unwell stomach. To be clear - NHL playoff overtime is the best thing in sports. EXCEPT when it's your team, at which point you'd rather gouge your eyeballs out with Marty McSorley's illegal stick. Not only is it sudden death overtime, but in the playoffs it's INFINITE sudden death overtime. A.K.A. infinite nausea, infinite sweat, and infinite uncontrollable cursing.
Luckily we were only submitted to three minutes and 24 seconds of infinite torture when Thousand Oaks Native Trevor Moore ended the agony after he took a tight dish from Gabe Vilardi behind the goal line to pot one blocker side past the Edmonton netminder. To be honest, I didn't have a clear look at the goal in real time because I was on the other side of the arena, but there are no words to describe the eruption of the crowd that told me the Kings had won.
Except did we? The lengthy video review that followed was as confusing as it was suspenseful. Not knowing what part of the play was in question was frustrating, but after what seemed like months later, we got confirmation: the call on the ice stood and we had a good goal. With that tally, Trevor Moore became the first California-born player to score a playoff overtime game-winner for a California team. Holy fairytale, Batman.
After the game Trevor was asked how he felt scoring the biggest goal of his career.
"It was awesome," said the 28-year-old winger, who admitted this morning to watching the replay multiple times. "Super fun to play in that building, that energy was like nothing else. It was really special."
After the game, I caught up with a fan, Mackenzie, who is finishing up her first year as a season seat holder. Prior to the game she had been told by friends that playoff hockey was special but she was still unprepared for the total experience.
"It was the best game I've ever been to in my entire life, in any sport. I have never heard the arena that loud. When the Kings skated out I got chills," she said, still in shock and with disbelief. "It got completely silent during the review process of the goal and once they said it was a good goal I've never heard the place as loud as it was then."
The excitement in her voice and the sparkle in her eyes as she was telling me about her experience was so validating. Playoff hockey is physically infectious and to watch a new fan in that mesmerized honeymoon phase was enough to cap off my Game 3 night.
And to think…we get to come back and do it all again tonight.
Go Kings Go!
> Playoffs, baby! #GoKingsGo pic.twitter.com/jTYLHJJDLn

• Deborah Lew (@by_DeborahLew) April 22, 2023