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"I don't know what to say really. 1.5 hours to the biggest battle of your professional lives all comes down to today. Either you heal as a team or you are going to crumble.
Inch by inch, play by play, till you're finished. You are in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And you can stay here and get the shit kicked out of you
or you can fight your way back into the light. You can climb out of hell. One inch, at a time.
Now we can't do it for you. We're only fans.
You know when you get older in life, things get taken from you. That's a part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is hockey. Because in either game, life or hockey, the margin for error is so small. I mean one half inch to the left or right, and it hits the post.
One half second too slow or too fast, and you don't get the hit.
The inches we need are everywhere around us. They are in every break of the game, every minute, every second.
On this team, you fight for that inch. On this team, you tear yourselves, and everyone around you to pieces for that inch. You skate through 6'9" goons for that inch. Cause you know when you add up all those inches, that's going to make the fucking difference between WINNING and LOSING, between LIVING and DYING.
I'll tell you this, in any fight, it is the guy who is willing to die, who is going to win that inch. The Stanley Cup is in front of your face.
Now we can't make you do it. You gotta look at the guy next to you.
Look into his eyes. Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. You are going to see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team
because he knows when it comes down to it, you are gonna do the same thing for him.
That's a team gentlemen, and either you heal now as a team, or you will die as individuals. That's hockey guys. That's all it is. Now, waddya gonna do?"
-- derived from Al Pacino
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