No hockey team has historically killed joy faster than the Winnipeg Jets. When they make the postseason, they appear quietly and leave moments later. In fact, Winnipeg itself is from the Cree word for "lost in the first round." They have been so committed to the bit that it’s still not clear that they actually won Game 7 over the St. Louis Blues Sunday night, even though I have watched the game twice since the actual game ended. The Jets don't win that game because the Jets never win that game.
But here we are. The Jets, known mostly for their seemingly incurable playoff interruptus, set themselves up for yet another galling failure last night and actually failed to fail in a situation where failure was all but assured. They parlayed the league’s best record and the best goalie and turned it into a humiliating 3-1 defeat … that is, until the final 116 seconds of regulation, when they turned it into the first bedtime story Jets fans will tell their grandchildren without firing down a slug of Caribou Crossing to dull the pain.
Those unaccustomedly sober tales will tell of tying goals from Vladislav Namestnikov with 1:56 to play and Cole Perfetti with 1.6 seconds left in regulation:
The Perfetti goal was in and of itself the greatest moment in Winnipeg's hockey history since the WHA folded in 1979, but surely they would still find a way to lose because of their faithful adherence to the brand. St. Louis clearly believed that as well, having scored the game's first two goals inside eight minutes of the first period and spending the rest of the evening ceding time and space to the Jets because they knew the Jets wouldn't know what to do with it. They were dead certain of it when Blues fourth-liner Radek Faksa scored out of context with 35 seconds left in the second period to make it 3-1. Nothing would change the outcome because they're the Jets, and they have never been anything else.
That is, until the Namestnikov goal gave the citizens hope, and the Perfetti goal gave them hysterical fits, tempered only by the knowledge that one more was needed, and they would take all night if necessary.
The Jets spent the first overtime controlling the run of play. The Blues found themselves chasing a puck they could never seem to corral, leaving goalie Jordan Binnington to save their bacon until that moment Connor Hellebuyck would lose his. The second overtime was more of the same, but history kept whispering, "It's Winnipeg. It's the Presidents’ Trophy. It's the eight vs. the one. Give it time. The million-pound craphammer is coming."
And it did, only it was the Jets wielding it. Adam Lowry, the longest-serving Jet who weirdly was born in St. Louis when his father Dave played for the Blues, tipped Oskar Sundqvist's deflection of Neal Pionk's drive from the right point with 3:50 left in the second overtime to give the Jets the win in the third-longest Game 7 ever played.
Winnipeg played the better game because it was the better team and because Hellebuyck played like the best goalie in the world, albeit after another stuttering start. But the better hockey team loses an inordinate amount of time, and history has a way of re-explaining itself to those foolish enough to think it isn't paying attention. But that's a problem for this coming week, and the Stars series. For now, the Jets have and will forever have last night and the game they always lose—except this once.
