National Baseball League

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2005 NHL Conference Finals

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[Scene opens: three Bears guys in their classic sweaters, seated around a table with bratwursts, Polish sausages, and beers.]
Bill: Dis week… de Minnesota Wilds… playin’ de Calgary Flames in de Western Conference Finals. Game One… went to… da Flames.
Pat: Da Flames!
Carl: Yeah, 4–3, in eleven innings. I tell ya, dat Lloyd Braun, dis guy’s 38 years old, built like a Polish sausage, and he still cranks one out in da 11th like it’s nuttin’.
Bill: [nodding] He goes three for four, homer, double, two walks. He’s got more bases tonight than I got bratwursts sittin’ in front of me.
Pat: [leans in] Dat’s a lotta bases.
Carl: But hey, don’t forget M. Grubin — dis guy hits a homer in de sixth, two doubles late, and he’s stealin’ bases like Ditka stealin’ hearts.
Pat: [dreamily] Ditka…
Bill: [serious] If Ditka was in dis game, he woulda ended it in de third inning. Flames win 99–0.
Carl: [correcting] No, no, no. Ditka against da Wild by himself? Ditka 12, Wild 3.
Pat: Gentlemen… imagine dis… Ditka pitching to Ditka.
Bill & Carl: [pause, then reverently] Ditka wins.
Bill: Anyway, back to da game — Minnesota actually looked pretty good, eh? Mendosa had three hits, Kim had three hits, Oldenburger had a double, they just couldn’t push one more across.
Carl: Yeah, and dat bullpen… Gabriel Rodriguez, poor guy gives up dat dinger to Braun. One pitch, boom, game over.
Pat: So it’s Flames up 1–0 in de series. But let’s be honest… if da Wilds don’t figure out how to pitch to Braun and Grubin… dis thing’s over in four.
Bill: Flames in four!
Pat: Flames in four!
Carl: Flames in four! Unless… unless… Ditka laces up skates, puts on da Wild sweater, den I say Wild in three.
Bill & Pat: [together, crossing themselves] Amen.

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Bill: Dis week… da Eastern Conference Finals… Flyers at da Islanders. Game One… wasn’t even close.
Pat: Islanders!
Carl: Yeah, Long Island 9, Philly 2. A wallopin’. Dis was uglier than Coach Ditka after eatin’ twelve polish sausages.
Bill: [nodding] Lance Clark. Two homers, a double, three runs, two RBI. Dis guy’s hittin’ balls harder than Ditka hittin’ da buffet at Ditka’s Steakhouse.
Pat: And Bernabel, he leads off with a homer right outta da gate. You know what dat means? Flyers were doomed from da first brat.
Carl: [correcting] First pitch, Pat. Not brat.
Pat: [shrugs] Same ting.
Bill: Flyers didn’t do nuttin’ all game. Zero runs through eight. Barry hits a garbage-time homer in da ninth, make it 9–2.
Carl: [leans in] Now lemme ask ya dis: If Ditka were pitchin’ for da Flyers… would da Islanders even score?
Pat: Trick question. Ditka woulda thrown a perfect game. And hit four homers at da same time.
Bill: Final score: Ditka 27, Islanders 0.
Carl: Gentlemen… imagine dis… Ditka playin’ for both teams at once.
Bill & Pat: [pause, then reverently] Ditka wins.
Bill: So Islanders take Game One, 1–0 series lead. Flyers gotta figure out Clark, Bernabel, Bauer… otherwise, dey’re toast.
Pat: Extra crispy. With a side of sausage.

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[Scene opens: the Bears guys, seated around a table stacked with sausages and Old Styles. A TV in the background flashes the score: Calgary 17, Minnesota 3. The guys look stunned but keep eating.]
Bill: Dis week… Western Conference Finals, Game Two… Flames at da Wild. And lemme tell ya… dis wasn’t hockey, dis was… a massacre.
Pat: Da Flames!
Carl: Yeah, Calgary puts up 17 runs on Minnesota. Seventeen! Dat’s more than da Bears scored in da ’85 Super Bowl.
Bill: [nodding] Jose Ramirez… 3-for-4, two homers, a double, seven RBIs. Seven! Dat’s like Ditka orderin’ seven sausages at once — and finishin’ ‘em before da anthem’s done.
Pat: [chimes in] Don’t forget Mila Grubin. Three-run bomb in da fifth, puts Calgary up 5–3, and after dat, da Wild… [waves hand] nuttin’.
Carl: Minnesota’s pitchers? Dey looked like kielbasas gettin’ grilled. Berkley, Almaraz, Hidalgo, Garcia, Hashimoto… all cooked.
Bill: Final score, Flames 17, Wild 3. Series now 2–0, Calgary.
Pat: Okay, but hear me out, fellas. What if… Ditka was pitchin’ for Minnesota?
Carl: [thinks] Ditka throws a no-hitter, Wild win 1–0.
Bill: [serious] Correction. Ditka no-hitter, and he drives in da only run with a homer off himself. Final: Ditka 1, Flames 0.
Pat: [smiles] Now… picture dis… Ditka on da mound, facin’ Ditka at the plate.
All three together: Ditka wins.
Bill: Anyway, Game Three’s in Calgary. If Minnesota don’t figure out Ramirez and Grubin… dis series is over faster than you can say “Polish sausage.”

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Boomer: Alright Gio, let’s just call it what it was — an absolute embarrassment for the Flyers. Islanders win 16–4, they are now up two games to none in the series, and Philadelphia looked like they didn’t even belong on the same ice, or field, or diamond, whatever you wanna call it.
Gio: Yeah Booms, and it started out fine, right? Flyers put up four in the second inning, you’re thinking, “Hey, maybe they got somethin’ goin’.” Barry hits a homer, Gutierrez — the catcher, not the pitcher — hits a three-run bomb. They’re up 4–2. And then, ahhh… it all falls apart.
Boomer: Completely fell apart. Vinny Hixson, three-run shot in the fourth, Adrie Sijtsma — and I love this kid, by the way, I love the way he plays — goes deep later, drives in three, scores three. He’s just everywhere.
Gio: Yeah, and Pastor, the Islanders starter, he wasn’t even that sharp. Gives up four runs in the second inning. But the Phillies — excuse me, Flyers — couldn’t touch him after that. He ends up going seven-plus innings, keeps his team in it, and then the Islanders offense just explodes.
Boomer: Explodes. Bossy with four hits, Bauer drives in two, Valenzuela has three hits, Bernabel steals a couple bases… they’re running wild. Sixteen runs on sixteen hits. It was a laugher by the fifth inning.
Gio: And meanwhile, the Phillies — the Flyers, whatever — five hits total. That’s it. Nothing after the second inning. Completely dead. You can’t win playoff games like that.
Boomer: And you know what this sets up now, Gio? Islanders in complete control. They go to Philly up 2–0, Wells Fargo Center’s gonna be loud, sure, but the Flyers better figure it out or this thing’s gonna be over quick.
Gio: Yeah, and I just don’t see how they stop this lineup. I mean, Sijtsma, Bauer, Bossy, Valenzuela — it’s relentless. You can pitch around one guy, but the next guy’s gonna burn you.
Boomer: Islanders win 16–4, total domination. Player of the game: Adrie Sijtsma. Flyers on the ropes.
Gio: Flat out ugly.

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Pat: "Alright, welcome back ta DA NHL, where we just saw da Minnesota Wild takin’ on da Calgary Flames, October 7th, 2005. An lemme tell ya… dis one? Absolute barn-burner, guys."
Todd: "Yah, barn burner. We got da Wild puttin’ up four runs—err, goals, whatever—an da Flames comin’ back wit’ six. In ten innings! Or was it periods? Doesn’t matter. DA FLAMES WIN!"
Carl: "Da hero? None other than Nazem Kadri. Bottom a da tenth, two-run shot, walk-off, ballgame ovah. Crowd’s goin’ nuts, sausages flyin’ everywhere."
Pat: "Don’t forget Jerry Seinfeld. Two-for-four, two homers, three RBI. What is the deal with all these runs in a hockey game? Am I right?"
All: (laughs, coughs, chokes on Polish sausage)
Todd: "An lemme tell ya, da Wild—eh, dey had some nice moments. Rolon wit’ a double, Seinfeld again doin’ his thing. But da Flames? Dey’re up 3–0 in da series now. One more, it’s a sweep."
Carl: "Da sweep! Jus’ like da janitor at da United Center after da Hawks game, except dis one’s gonna hurt Minnesota."
Pat: "So, da question is… can da Wild possibly come back from down tree-zip?"
All together: "No way! Flames in four!"
Pat: "Final score, Flames 6, Wild 4. Player of da Game: Jerry freakin’ Seinfeld. Next game, tomorrow night, Saddledome. Same time, same place, more sausage."
All: DA FLAMES!

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Evan: Tiki, I don’t even know where to start. Islanders 23, Flyers 1. Twenty-three to one! This wasn’t a playoff hockey game, this was a demolition.
Tiki: Evan, it was embarrassing. This was Game 3 of the Conference Finals! You’re at home in Philly, series on the line, and you get blown out like that? Bernabel was unstoppable — 4-for-6, homer, triple, seven RBI. Seven! He looked like Barry Bonds out there.
Evan: And it wasn’t just Bernabel. Bossy with two bombs, Valenzuela goes deep, Esparza with a two-run shot, Clark and de la Cerda each four hits… the whole lineup just destroyed Philly pitching. Twenty-seven hits!
Tiki: Meanwhile, the Flyers? Three hits. That’s it. You can’t win anything when you’ve got three hits in your own building. Couturier had a triple, Suriel drove in the lone run, and that was all she wrote.
Evan: And let’s not forget van Laar. Eight and two-thirds, only one run, didn’t even blink with that giant lead. He kept it professional.
Tiki: Yeah, compare that to the Flyers’ staff — Madrid, Sanchez, Cobos, Zhu… everybody who came in just poured gasoline on the fire. That bullpen ERA is comical.
Evan: And now, Islanders are up 3–0 in the series. This thing is over. I don’t care what anybody says — Flyers aren’t coming back from down 3–0 after losing 23–1.
Tiki: No chance. Their manager called it a “punch in the kisser.” I’d call it a knockout punch. Islanders are going to the Finals.
Evan: Islanders 23, Flyers 1. Bernabel the star, but honestly, the whole team was the star. This was historic.

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Da Bears Guys Recap of Minnesota Wild vs. Calgary Flames, Game 4
Bill: “So… da Wild, dey were facin’ elimination, down tree-zip to da Flames. Looked like dey were cooked, like a sausage left too long on da grill. But—BUT—dey stave it off. Final score: five-four. Da Wild survive.”
Todd: “Da Wild. Survive. Like Ditka in a snowstorm, walkin’ uphill both ways. And lemme tell ya—Mila Grubin, huh? Dis guy goes t’ree-for-four. Two homers, a double. Drove in t’ree runs, scored twice. Dat’s not just clutch. Dat’s Ditka-esque.”
Carl: “Question: If Mila Grubin was actually Coach Ditka, but shrunk down to hockey size, how many homers would he hit?”
Bill: “Infinite. Plus one.”
Todd: “Correct.”
Pat: “Don’t forget, Kiyoharu Adachi steps up in da fourth inning, two outs, bam! Two-run shot, puts da Wild up four-to-one. Dat’s da kinda moxie Ditka would approve of.”
Carl: “And ya gotta factor in da weather. Rain, 43 degrees, wind blowin’ in. Not great baseball conditions, but what is rain to Ditka? Merely God’s way of cryin’ tears o’ joy.”
Bill: “So da Wild still trail da series, tree games to one. Next game, back in St. Paul. Question: how many games would it take Coach Ditka, playin’ alone against da Calgary Flames, to clinch da series?”
Todd: “One. And dat’s only ‘cause Ditka would spot ‘em a goal, outta mercy.”
Carl: “Da Bears!”
All together: “DA BEARS!”

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New York Islanders: 2nd Stanley Cup Finals berth
1999 2005

Mike Francesa (flat, declarative):
“Alright, the Islanders, they win their second Eastern Conference crown, first in six years. Okay. They’re back in the Stanley Cup Final, playin’ for their second Cup in franchise history. That’s the headline. That’s the whole story. They beat the Flyers, they swept ‘em, and it wasn’t even close. That’s it. You don’t need a parade for the Conference title — the job’s not finished.”
Mad Dog Russo (shrill, bouncing in his chair):
“MIKE! MIKE! THE ISLANDERS! BACK TO THE CUP FINAL! Can you BELIEVE it?! They haven’t been here in SIX YEARS, and this is the TEAM that does it! They didn’t just beat Philly, they DEMOLISHED Philly! Four games to NONE! 14–5 in the closeout game! You gotta be kidding me! And Jack Bauer — JACK BAUER! — the guy’s a MACHINE! .476 batting average, twelve RBIs, two homers — in the CONFERENCE FINAL, MIKE! That’s not just good, that’s HISTORIC!”
Mike Francesa (cutting him off, bored):
“Dog, calm down. They won. Bauer was good. Fine. But listen — it doesn’t matter if it was 14–5 or 2–1, they got the job done. Now the Finals begin. That’s all that matters. Four more wins, period. You don’t hang banners for conference championships.”
Rocky Balboa (soft, slurred but passionate):
“Y’know, uh, the thing about the Islanders, they been countin’ out a lotta times, but dey kept fightin’. Dey took the hits, dey stayed on their feet. And now, uh, they goin’ for the big one. But listen, it ain’t gonna be easy. Nothin’ worth winnin’ ever is. They gotta keep movin’ forward. That’s how champions are made.”
Mad Dog (leaning toward Rocky, yelling):
“YES, ROCK! THAT’S IT! MOVIN’ FORWARD! HEART! PASSION! That’s what this Islander team’s got! MIKE, admit it, this is somethin’ SPECIAL!”
Mike Francesa (shrugs, deadpan):
“Yeah, it’s special if they win the Cup. Until then, it’s just noise. We’ll see what happens.”
Mad Dog (throws hands up):
“OH, COME ON, MIKE!!!”

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Calgary Flames: 1st Stanley Cup Finals berth
2005

“So, gentlemen… da CALGARY FLAMES… dey just won dere FIRST Western Conference title.”
“Yah, dey bent, but dey did not break. Kinda like da time I sat on my recliner after six deep dish pies—lotta strain, but she held up.”
“Da Wild? More like da Mild. Two nothin’ in da clincher! Flames take da series, 4-1. Now we got ourselves a Stanley Cup Final… Calgary Flames versus… da NEW YORK ISLANDERS.”
“Da what now?”
“Da Islanders. From Long Island. Ya know, like da Rangers’ weird cousins who live out by da bagel shops.”
“Ohhh, dose guys. Lemme tell ya, dat’s a matchup. Flames, dey’re hot. Islanders, dey’re… uh… islandy. But only one can hoist da Cup.”
“And lemme remind ya, Mila Grubin—series MVP! Hittin’ .474, four home runs, seven RBI. Guy’s basically Babe Ruth on skates. If he played for da Bears, we’d have ten more Super Bowls.”
“Correction—da Bears woulda had twenty more Super Bowls.”
“Agreed. But back to da hockey—Flames are marchin’ into history, Islanders standin’ in da way. Gentlemen, place your bets: Flames in six, Islanders in seven, or da Bears in four?”
“Da Bears.”
“DA BEARS!”

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2005 Stanley Cup Finals

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ISLES TORCH FLAMES, 20-6
Sijtsma’s five-star show fuels blowout as Cup chase begins
The Islanders didn’t just light the lamp Wednesday night — they burned the whole building down.
In a jaw-dropping 20-6 demolition of the Calgary Flames at UBS Arena, the Isles made their intentions for the Stanley Cup Final crystal clear: this is their time.
Adrie Sijtsma was the firestarter, going 4-for-5 with two homers, a double, five runs scored and five RBIs in a career night that already has his name buzzing around Belmont. The shortstop set the tone in the bottom of the first, belting a solo shot that sent the 43,589 fans into a frenzy — and the Flames into an early hole they never crawled out of.
By the third inning, it was already over. A seven-run blitz buried Calgary, and when the Isles piled on five more in the sixth, the rout was official. In total, Long Island racked up 24 hits, with every starter notching at least one knock.
“We like the roll we’re on,” manager Rocky Dunn said, understated after watching his team score more like the Jets’ opponents on a bad Sunday than an NHL game.
Calgary’s only highlight came from slugger Lloyd Braun, who launched two solo homers. But the Flames’ pitching imploded, coughing up crooked numbers in nearly every frame.
Game 2 of the Finals is back at UBS Arena tonight — and if the Isles swing anything like this again, the Flames could be extinguished before they know what hit ‘em.
NEXT: Isles vs. Flames, Game 2, Belmont — Isles lead series 1-0.

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BOSSY BOMBS AWAY!
ISLES LEGEND BLASTS 3 HOMERS, WALK-OFFS FLAMES FOR 2-0 CUP LEAD
BELMONT — Mike Bossy turned back the clock — and turned UBS Arena into a madhouse.
The 35-year-old catcher slugged three home runs, including a tenth-inning walk-off shot, as the Islanders outlasted the Calgary Flames, 8-7, in a wild Game 2 of the Stanley Cup Finals on Thursday night.
Bossy drove in six runs and crossed the plate three times, singlehandedly carrying Long Island to a 2-0 series stranglehold in the best-of-seven showdown.
“It’s great to see the crowd jacked up,” Bossy said after sending Jose Cabrera’s fastball screaming into the night. “That’s what this time of year is all about.”
The Isles needed every ounce of Bossy’s magic. Calgary clawed back with long balls from Lloyd Braun and M. Grubin and a game-tying double by Chew, tying things up in the ninth and forcing extras. But with one out in the 10th, Bossy delivered the final word, circling the bases as 43,796 fans roared.
The Flames left the Bronx suburban ice scorched and stunned — their 13 hits and four homers wasted.
Now the series shifts to Calgary for Game 3 at the Saddledome on Saturday, where the Islanders will look to push the Flames to the brink.
For now, though, this was Bossy’s night, a blast from the past — and maybe the blast that puts Long Island two wins away from the Cup.

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DOG: “CHRIS! CHRIIIS! The Long Island Islanders are ONE win away from their second Stanley Cup title, can you believe it?! 16–11 last night in Calgary, Bossy AGAIN, three hits, five runs batted in, and the Flames are TOAST.”
MIKE: “Listen, Dog. They’re up 3–0. Series is over. Calgary has NO pitching. NONE. You cannot give up sixteen runs in a Cup Final game at home. That’s embarrassing. The Saddledome crowd—disgusted. You saw ‘em leaving in the eighth inning.”
DOG: “Ahhh but Mike, the Isles, they’re relentless! Bernabel, Sijtsma, Bauer, Bossy—everybody hittin’! It’s an avalanche! And you’re tellin’ me tomorrow night, Game 4, in Calgary? Fuhgeddaboudit! They’re gonna bring the Cup back to the Island!”
MIKE: “Well, hold on. Hold on. Let’s not hand ‘em the trophy yet. I’ve seen sweeps before, Dog, but sometimes—you know this—you get that desperate Game 4, backs against the wall, other team sneaks one out. But—BUT—Calgary’s pitching has been atrocious. Erickson, Bonilla, Selin—garbage. Absolute garbage.”
DOG: “NO DOUBT, Mike, NO DOUBT! And how about the crowd at Nassau, when they go back for Game 5, IF there is a Game 5—ohhh, forget it! That place is gonna be ROCKIN’, MIKE, ROCKIN’!”
MIKE: “Dog, there won’t be a Game 5. Islanders in four. Write it down. Bossy the MVP. Series over.”
DOG: “HAAAA! THE ISLANDERS, MIKE, THE ISLANDERS! TITLE NUMBER TWO, RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!”

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New York Islanders: 2005 Stanley Cup Champions (2nd title)
1999 2005

DOG: “CHRIS! CHRIIIS! THE ISLANDERS HAVE DONE IT! TITLE NUMBER TWO, BABY! Can you believe it?! ELEVEN innings, Calgary wouldn’t go away, but it’s JON VALENZUELA, of all people, with the clutch two-run shot! Not Bossy, not Bauer, not Sijtsma—VALENZUELA! The hero!”
MIKE: “Dog, listen. That’s what makes championship teams. It’s not always the stars. Sometimes it’s the role player, the guy hittin’ eighth in the order. Valenzuela steps up, boom, ballgame. Then Brenton with the insurance double, you could feel the air come outta the Saddledome.”
DOG: “OH, OH, and what about the crowd in Calgary, Mike? DEAD SILENT after that! You coulda heard a pin drop in that place! Meanwhile, back on the Island—they’re goin’ NUTS! Uniondale is a MADHOUSE tonight!”
MIKE: “Dog, let’s keep it real. This team went 131–31 in the regular season. They were a MACHINE. Sijtsma wins MVP, deservedly so. But it was everybody—Bauer, Bossy, Hixson, Clark—they all contributed. Even the bench guys like Brenton—two big doubles. That’s depth, Dog. That’s why they swept.”
DOG: “NO DOUBT, MIKE, NO DOUBT! And ya gotta give credit to Rocky Dunn, the skipper. Kept ‘em focused all year. And the pitching—Casarez, Reyes, even with Arnaud blowin’ it in the eighth, they hung in there. THIS was a team effort!”
MIKE: “And Dog, here’s the key. Calgary? No bullpen. None. That’s why they got swept. You cannot win in October without arms late. And the Islanders took full advantage. Simple as that.”
DOG: “HAAA! THE ISLANDERS, MIKE! THE ISLANDERS! THEY BRING HOME CUP NUMBER TWO, BABY! TITLE TOWN ON LONG ISLAND AGAIN!”
MIKE: “Dog, enjoy it. Parade down Hempstead Turnpike. Islanders are champions again. End of story.”

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