TAMPA - The reaction was real, the sound was genuine. The instructions came not from the scoreboard, but rather the heart.
Hab-by. Hab-by. Hab-by.
It was another in a week's worth of acrobatic saves by Lightning goaltender Nikolai Khabibulin. And the crowd at the St. Pete Times Forum was showing its appreciation by calling his name without the usual prodding or choreography.
HAB-BY. HAB-BY. HAB-BY.
This was the night the Lightning would clinch a playoff series against the Islanders. And, maybe, it was the moment a love affair was realized.
It has often been a strained relationship, this team and its community. Lightning owners have always wanted more out of their investment. And Tampa Bay has usually wanted more of those half-price coupons.
For the longest time, we have been stuck somewhere short of together. This hockey team with little collateral and this market with little sympathy.
Which is why Friday night's clincher had such a remarkable feel. And why the rest of the postseason seems so full of promise.
So, if you do not object to the reminder, this is your cue to stand and act the fool. To wear tacky jerseys you would normally ridicule on others. To pound long, skinny balloons together as if you were auditioning for a seal act. To discover a hockey team that is as lovable as a sunrise.
This is the moment you have been awaiting.
It is as close to perfect as you will ever find.
Think, for a moment, about the factors at play. A winning team. An exciting team. A team built principally with castoffs and has-beens. A team driven not by personal glory, but a collective aspiration. Players who sign autographs at department stores instead of bail slips in police departments.
It is everything we cherish and little of what we despise about the games we follow in the 21st century.
And it has been a long time coming. A dozen years, to be exact. That covers a lot of promises, a couple of teases and not a whole lot of satisfaction.
"We have so many fans who have been so great to us. And I'm talking now of the core group of 5,000 people who have had season tickets from the beginning," general manager Jay Feaster said after Game 5.
"That core group of fans of hockey. For them, finally, to see this on home ice, to see us wrap up a series. For them, I'm happy. God bless each and every one of them."
This does not mean the story is destined for a happy ending. Far from it. The Lightning could lose in the next round and, truth be told, the season will feel like a disappointment.
Nor does it mean a Stanley Cup should be expected. For all its success in the past six months, the Lightning still is a playoff neophyte.
What it does mean is the time has come to give the franchise its due. To appreciate a general manager who was once an anonymous suit. To applaud a head coach with more integrity than diplomacy.
It means there are more reasons to cheer for this team than not.
Around here, we have grown too familiar with discount-style rosters. Owners who won't stay long and, worse yet, owners who won't leave. Hockey teams that were an embarrassment and baseball teams that were a joke.
We have been beaten to the point of submission by the idea that money talks and we had nothing to say.
So it means just a little more to see how the Lightning - and to a certain extent the Devil Rays - changed a landscape with a carefully planned harvest.
Lightning ownership did not pump millions into this team. It just put the right people in charge and gave them time to build something meaningful.
How much better is this, knowing Marty St. Louis was ignored by the rest of the NHL? Or that you first saw Brad Richards as a 20-year-old upstart? Or that Dave Andreychuk introduced us to the nobility of the NHL, almost a decade after the Lightning arrived?
This is not unlike the Buccaneers of the mid 1990s. A franchise that, like the Lightning, had a history of frugal ownership and bonehead decisionmaking.
The Bucs could not fill their stadium and could rarely offer hope. It was not until the Glazers bought the team and put Rich McKay and Tony Dungy in charge that one of the NFL's most valuable franchises came to life.
And, so it may be with the Lightning. These are the first signs. You begin with a management team that builds instead of patches. And players who are young enough to be hungry instead of sated. Finally, you attract fans who used to pass by but now are stopping in.
All these years later, the Bucs have a waiting list for season tickets that stretches the length of Dale Mabry.
The Lightning is not there yet. Not even close. But, after all this time, at least it is pointing in that direction.
So, if you see it coming, you might want to hop on that bandwagon.
