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Victory Reclaimed: Canadiens Respond with Ruthless Precision in Game 2
By Tywin Lannister, Hand of the Realm (and Ice)
A war is not won in its first engagement. It is won in resolve, in discipline, in the cold arithmetic of strength, timing, and ruthlessness. In Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals, the Montreal Canadiens reminded all of Florida—and all of hockey—that they remain a force not merely to be acknowledged, but to be feared.
The Panthers, bold and reckless, surged to an early lead. Two in the first. Three more in the second. Like a child who believes a crown is his simply for wishing it, they mistook momentum for victory. Fools. The Canadiens, veterans of the battlefield, absorbed the blow and waited for their moment.
That moment bore the name Art Vandelay.
He is not simply a shortstop—he is execution in cleats. Two home runs. Four driven in. Three times he crossed the plate, each a dagger in the heart of a Floridian dream that dared rise too soon. He did not celebrate. He did not gloat. Because true strength requires neither.
And then there was Alberto Vizcarra, a man whose blade is sharpest when the hour is darkest. Bottom of the seventh. Two outs. A man stranded on second, hope flickering. Vizcarra did not hesitate. He did not blink. He struck—cleanly, decisively—giving Montreal a 6-5 lead they would never relinquish. That is how wars are won. Not by chance, but by men who act.
The Canadiens added two more in the eighth—because a message, once delivered, must be carved deep enough to be remembered.
8-5. Final. A one-all tie in this best-of-seven. The next battle moves south to the Amerant Bank Arena in Sunrise. The weather will be warm. The ice, however, will remain as cold as the Panthers' squandered lead.
As for Florida—let this be a lesson. You play not against fortune or flair, but against a dynasty built on discipline. And when Art Vandelay steps into the box, the gods themselves look down and take note.
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