Someone is going to be a star, and someone is going to let people down. Someone will make sure his name is remembered, and someone will see his turned into a new form of profanity. Someone will stand up. Someone will stand aside.
Welcome to Game 7.
And isn't it delicious?
The Lightning-Flyers competition has entered thin air. It is down to one game, triumph or torture, validation or vacation. The tightrope is slippery, and the wind is blowing, and it's a long way down. And tell me: Are you supposed to be able to taste your own heart?
It is down to this: Two men enter, one man leaves.
Someone is going to be John Havlicek.
Someone is going to be Hal Greer.
Someone will make a great play. Someone will make a goofy one. Martin St. Louis or Keith Primeau. Vinny Lecavalier or Simon Gagne. Nikolai Khabibulin or Robert Esche. Fredrik Modin or Jeremy Roenick. Who knows? Maybe Martin Cibak or Joni Pitkanen.
That's what happens in Game 7s. Someone seizes the day. Someone feels tightness in his throat. A playoff series is a nice ride, but until it gets to the end, no statement is final. Tonight is not a roller-coaster ride. Tonight is two elevator shafts and one elevator. Do or die, sink or swim, lady or tiger. Any more pressure, and the building would pop like a tube of biscuits.
Around here, this is all sort of new. Tampa Bay never has been in a Game 7 in the playoffs.
Tonight, then, will be the biggest sporting event in Tampa Bay since the 1979 Bucs reached the NFC Championship Game against the Los Angeles Rams. The Bucs lost 9-0.
Oh, we have had Super Bowls, and we have had Final Fours. But those have been played by out-of-town teams performing for visitors. We have had Bucs and Lightning playoff games, but since '79, the stakes have not been this high. The Rays once played a meaningful game; it was their opener in '98.
Never, however, have we had a home game by a home team that promised as much drama as this one, that demanded as much emotional involvement. Game 7s are sports at their climax, an entire game of Indiana Jones running from the boulder and James Bond fighting Oddjob and Uma Thurman trying to kill Bill.
Someone's going to be Mark Messier.
Someone's going to be Steve Smith.
The bigger the moment, the bigger the memory. That's the nature of sports. If a player wants anyone to remember a goal he scores in November against Carolina, well, he better do it while performing surgery. In the playoffs, in the blood-pressure games, legacies are born.
Remember Willis Reed of the Knicks, hobbling toward the floor? Remember Wayne Gretzky's hat trick against the Maple Leafs in '93? Remember Mazeroski taking Ralph Terry into the history books? The same with Lonnie Smith, whose baserunning error helped cost the Braves the 1991 World Series.
If not for Game 7, would Reed limping up the tunnel be such an enduring image? Mark Messier had not delivered the winning goal in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup final, would anyone remember his prediction the Rangers would win an earlier playoff series against New Jersey? Would we care, at any other time, that "Havlicek stole the ball?"
On the other hand, there is the memory of Steve Smith, the rookie defenseman from Edmonton who got in the way of his own team's dynasty. In 1986, Gretzky's 215-point season, the Oilers were gunning for their third straight Stanley Cup. They seemed to have a shot until late in the third period of Game 7, when Smith attempted to pass the puck through the crease. Instead, the puck hit off the skate of Edmonton goalie Grant Fuhr and bounced into the net for a goal against his own team.
Game 7 is the sacred ground of Jack Morris and Larry Bird and Joel Otto's talented foot. Likewise, it is the legacy of Red Sox manager Grady Little, who left Pedro Martinez in the game too long.
So what happens tonight?
Assorted members of the Lightning this season have taken turns leading the way. At various times, Khabibulin, St. Louis, Lecavalier, Brad Richards and Ruslan Fedotenko have all taken over games. The Flyers, on the other hand, have Primeau, who has been the best player in the series.
Nothing counts but tonight, and then, every minute counts. Every shift. Every player.
For the Lightning, the season is down to delight or disappointment.
That, in itself, is a testament to how far the franchise has come. Once, any time the Lightning made the playoffs - heck, any time it had a chance - everything was warm and fuzzy, and everyone seemed to forgive the final disappointment. Remember the first Lightning playoff team in 1996?
That team lost in six games to the Flyers, and in return, it received a standing ovation. Even last year, when the Lightning lost to eventual champion New Jersey, no one seemed to hold it against the players.
This time, it won't be the same. And it shouldn't be. Those were overachieving teams that were lucky to be around.
This, on the other hand, is a legitimate team with a legitimate shot at a championship. Already, the Lightning risks being haunted by the final two minutes of Game 6. If it loses a home game to the Flyers to bow out, if it lets this opportunity get away, it will burn inside of the players for years.
Lightning: