I love Game 7's. All that pressure, the super high stakes, every play magnified a thousand times, knowing any player at any time could become the goat or the hero.
But now that the Islanders are involved, it's a different story. The nausea started around the time the Blues-Wild game was coming to an end on Sunday. By the time you read this, I'll probably be a distracted, nervous wreck. What I'll be at 7:30 tonight I have no idea. Most likely in the fetal position on my living room floor.
This is a chance for this incarnation of the franchise to write some history.