I hope this letter finds you in decent spirits heading into a must-win Game Six between yourselves and the Minnesota Wild(s) in St. Paul. I say that because if you’re doing well, the feeling is not particularly mutual at the moment.
See, I’ve been a fan of this franchise for longer than I can remember, stretching back at least to the Monday Night Miracle—perhaps longer (I was five). My parents watched your predecessors in many a game not just at the Scottrade/Savvis/Kiel/Whateverthefuck Center, but as newlyweds in the upper bowl of the old Saint Louis Arena (or "The Checkerdome" to some) back in the 70’s, before most of you were born.