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You know, it’s funny. There are games that feel like slow-brewing coffee — methodical, careful, every drop adding up to something special. And then there are games like this one. The New York Rangers didn’t brew anything. They poured the whole bag of beans straight into the machine, hit extra strong, and by the first inning, the Islanders were already drowning in caffeine.
Seventeen runs. Thirteen hits. Not a single error. Will Cuylle was everywhere — three hits, a walk, four runs scored, four driven in. The kind of night that makes you wonder if maybe he’s just been politely holding back all season, waiting for October to arrive.
Itsuro Bliebernicht hit a three-run homer in the first inning that might still be airborne. B. Rice went deep twice. Even M. Grubin, who always seems to have a knack for timing, chipped in with a two-run shot just when the Islanders thought they might have caught their breath. They never did.
Meanwhile, Henry Macias was on the mound, pitching like someone who knew he had a very comfortable cushion — eight and a third innings, two hits, one lonely run. If the Islanders had any hope, it ended somewhere between the fifth strikeout and the fourth home run they watched sail over the fence.
It’s October in New York, which means scarves, the faint smell of roasted chestnuts on the street… and apparently, 17-1 playoff wins at Madison Square Garden. The Rangers lead the series 1-0, and tomorrow night, they’ll be back under the lights. Maybe it’ll be closer. Maybe it won’t.
But for now, the city goes to bed knowing that at least one team in blue and white has figured out exactly how to start a Conference Final.
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