Dearest New Jersey,
I don’t like being mad at you. I really don’t. You make it so easy sometimes though. Do you realize that you have surely put me to an early grave? All the antacids, those ulcers are killin’ me. Oh, and I need a lot of dental work too, but that’s just because of the Meth. Still, I blame you.

You have a shot here to make it right. How? Win tonight. Please? I hate begging, I really do, but this is what you’ve brought me to here. As I sit here, writing this with my nervous twitch (okay maybe that’s the drugs), I cannot fathom the chances you guys really have if you so happen to lose tonight. 3-0 holes are just ridiculous.

I live and die by you, Black ‘n Red. When Zach Parise hurts, I hurt. When Dainius Zubrus scores, I score. Oh, and when Andy Greene actually makes a good play, I buy a lottery ticket.

Just kidding.

But seriously, boys, give it your all tonight. Desperation is not enough here. We need results in the form of grit and dedication to the game. I know you each have it in you. Bring your inner Claude Lemieux out, channel Scott Stevens, do whatever it takes to get the job done.

I may not make it another day otherwise.

Seriously.

With love,
Patricia

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