Buffalo hockey has been a punchline for so long that 'first playoff series win since the Great Depression' actually undersells how grim the drought has been. Generations of Sabres fans have grown up, gotten married, and had kids of their own without ever watching their team shake hands at the end of a round. That ended this week, and the main account framed it exactly the way it needed to be framed.
The local hero angle writes itself. Alex Tuch grew up a Sabres fan, came home in the Eichel trade, and has been the emotional engine of a fan base that had basically forgotten what playoff buzz feels like. Watching that building lose its mind for a kid who used to be in the stands is the kind of thing that makes the sport worth caring about, even after a decade-plus of misery.
Whitney, who has spent half his career on Spittin' Chiclets giving Buffalo the benefit of the doubt nobody else would, finally got to take a victory lap. The slow chug from the sword has already entered Sabres folklore as a thing that's going to get replayed every spring from here on out, and Whit is hammering the wagon button before anyone can talk him off it.
And then there's Dave, who has spent more years dunking on the Sabres than most of their current roster has been alive. Watching him post a clean concession with no asterisks, no excuses, no 'but next year' is genuinely strange behavior. Whatever 'new phase of my life' means, Buffalo gets to enjoy the rare sight of Portnoy actually eating it.
Round two is going to be a different animal and the league is not going to let Buffalo waltz to a Cup just because the vibes are immaculate. But for one night, a fan base that has been the butt of every hockey joke since the Hasek era got to feel like the team people actually want to root for. Wagon or not, they earned the noise.