The Blues have nearly overslept for their game. Luckily, the Blues brought in Army soldier John Winger for some last minute motivation.

Cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! The hell's the matter with you? Stupid!

We're all very different people. We're not Black Bears. We're not Fighting Sioux. We're Blues, with a capital 'B', huh? You know what that means? Do ya?

That means that our original players were kicked off of every "original six" team in the league. We are the wretched refuse. We're the underdog. We're mutts! Here's proof: Steen's nose is cold! But there's no animal that's more faithful, that's more loyal, more loveable than the mutt.

Who saw "Old Yeller?" Who cried when Old Yeller got shot at the end?

[raises his hand]

Nobody cried when Old Yeller got shot? I'm sure.

[hands are reluctantly raised]

I cried my eyes out.

So we're all dogfaces, we're all very, very different, but there is one thing that we all have in common: we were all stupid enough to play with the St. Louis Blues.

We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us - we're hockey players. But we're Blues' hockey players!

We've been kicking ass for 42 years! We're 35-30-and 9! Now we don't have to worry about whether or not we practiced. We don't have to worry about whether Coach Murray wants to have us hung.

All we have to do is to be the great Blues player that is inside each one of us. Now do what I do, and skate how I skate.

And make me proud.