RALEIGH, N.C. -- The game was over. Sure, there were technically some 90 seconds left and sure the Red Wings were in full attack mode, but Carolina Hurricanes fans could taste it. They could feel it.

	After a 'Canes goal, the noise in the ESA is as loud as a jet airplane.

But then disaster struck. Brett Hull deflected a Nicklas Lidstrom slapper to the back of the net, and in the blink of an eye, hockey's newest converts were introduced to one of its oldest emotions: heartbreak.

"Man, this hockey stuff can kill you," said 24-year-old "Caniac" Dan Lindeman as he wandered the concourse in search of a beer stand after Hull's game-tying goal Saturday night. "I can't handle this. I'm not used to this."

Few in this area are. They cheer basketball, where scoring is cheap and a late-game rally is easy to identify. They watch auto racing, where the driver at the end of the pack has no chance to charge forward and win in the final lap. And they love football, where if a team doesn't get into position, there's no chance for a game-tying field goal.

Yet, in a strange twist, fans who never imagined craving the Stanley Cup like they do the Winston Cup are in love. And like any naive budding love, memories of pain are ideally short. Take the aftermath of Hull's third-period miracle and Igor Larionov's game winner. There were no boos. No tears. No cuss words. Just applause. For both teams.

The Sunday morning newscast continued the, "Boy, we almost beat them" theme: "How about those Hurricanes, did they give it quite an effort or what?," the newscaster said.

And then there was the front page of the Raleigh News & Observer, which read: "TIMELESS: Canes lose 3-2 in 3rd OT, win moral victory in area's first game for Cup."

Imagine the folks in Detroit or Montreal or Toronto -- any of the Original Six -- talking about losses as moral victories in the Stanley Cup finals. Doesn't happen.

But here in Carolina, where the relationship between the 'Canes and their fans is a budding sense of puppy love, neither can do any wrong. After the Game 3 loss, fans were just ecstatic to be a part of the third-longest game in Cup history.

"It was for me the best sports moment in my life," said Chapel Hill's Ray Shaw. "Everyone felt as if they were part of a historic event. If we are to lose a game (or the series) to another team, no team is as deserving as Detroit. We can hold our heads high knowing that they fought for it and they had to earn it."

Like any brand-new, candy-coated relationship, this one too is nauseating to outsiders. Especially those who think it's sacrilegious that the Stanley Cup champion will be determined partly on Tobacco Road.

But right or wrong, hockey in these parts appears to have caught on, with its own Southern flavor. What other hockey town has a pregame tailgate that resembles a cross between a Florida-Tennessee football game and a Jimmy Buffett concert. Cold beer? Check. Smokey Joe? Check. Inflatable pool, complete with thong-clad inhabitants? Check and check.

"That was definitely a first for me," Detroit center and 19-year NHL veteran Steve Yzerman said of the state fair-like pregame party. "At 4 o'clock in the afternoon, they were already going strong. And I'll tell you, that's a long shift from 4 until 1 a.m. -- something they should be proud of."

Carolina or bust
It wasn't always this way. When the team left Hartford, Conn., in 1997, the arena in Raleigh wasn't ready so the 'Canes played an hour and a half away in Greensboro.

They averaged fewer than 10,000 fans per game and as few as 5,000 would show up for games against lesser competition. Things were so bad that the team would draw a dark black curtain over the upper bowl of the Greensboro Coliseum to hide thousands of empty seats.

At one game, injured Phoenix Coyotes forward Keith Tkachuk was able to watch the game from the stands without being bothered. And when teammate Jeremy Roenick injured himself in the second period, he dressed and joined Tkachuk in the stands. Nobody had a clue who the two hockey stars were.

How bad were things? Head coach Paul Maurice had to be careful not to make his on-ice instructions too vulgar. "There was a game a few years ago that a linesman came over and asked me to watch my language because the people on the other side could hear it very clearly," Maurice said.

Raleigh wasn't even team owner Peter Karmanos' first choice. He had visions of a team in suburban Detroit. But the Red Wings barked at that idea, so Karmanos investigated Columbus, Houston, Oklahoma City and Raleigh.

Despite what some might think, hockey wasn't entirely foreign to the area known as The Triangle -- the name given to the area which encompasses three major research universities. According to the U.S. Census survey, more than 40 percent of area residents were born outside the region, many in NHL cities such as Buffalo, Boston, Chicago and New York.

But Carolina's own research showed that just seven percent of the area's residents considered themselves hockey fanatics. At one point, Karmanos' team nearly played in a refurbished aircraft hangar in Columbus. Instead, he gambled on Raleigh, fully aware that the first two years in Greensboro would be a financial waste.

	More than 100 fans greeted the Hurricanes when they arrived at Raleigh-Durham International Airport at 2 a.m. after Game 2 in Detroit.

"It was tough," said Chuck Kaiton, who has worked 23 years as the franchise's radio play-by-play man. "People from Raleigh didn't want to drive to Greensboro and the people in Greensboro knew we were headed to Raleigh. It wasn't easy. But once we were settled here, you could tell this had the potential to be something special."

Selling the South
The NHL's decade-long effort to sell hockey in southeastern markets has drawn mixed reviews. In Raleigh, just like Miami, Tampa Bay and Atlanta, the challenge has been to educate fans who were more likely to know NASCAR veteran Geoff Bodine than hometown stars such as Carolina forward Jeff O'Neill.

The 'Canes also found competition for the sports entertainment dollar with Duke, North Carolina and North Carolina State athletics. There was also competition from arena football, along with minor league baseball's Durham Bulls.

But the Hurricanes marketing staff worked tirelessly. They ran endless promotions, trying to get people in the door. Once in, they educated them by passing out a sheet of NHL rules. During games, they explained various calls on the scoreboard. And fans were encouraged to bring portable radios so they could listen to Kaiton's on-air explanations of what was happening before them.

"If something happened in the flow of the game, like icing or a two-line pass, I'd try to explain it to the fan at the time it happened," Kaiton said. "I tried to help them understand what was going on. But you can't assume that everybody is new to the sport, so you don't want to change your broadcast too much to insult the listener, either."

They cranked up the music. Brought in scantilly-dressed cheerleaders. Encouraged tailgating. Pranced around a dancing pig as a mascot. And used wrestling star Ric Flair to scream and yell and energize the crowd after every Carolina goal. "WOOO," Flair still yells. "That was a Carolina Hurricanes goal. WOOOO."

As the interest began to build, the team began to improve, culminating last year's two playoff victories against defending Stanley Cup champion New Jersey. This season, the franchise's goals were made very public: win a playoff series or bust. And when the team did beat the Devils in the first round, the interest soared.

Since that series, each time the Hurricanes return home, hoards of fans greet the team at Raleigh-Durham Airport. They stand outside the Entertainment and Sports Arena, searching for autographs. And tickets for the three home Stanley Cup games sold out in 35 minutes.

"The key is that I think we're structured right for the area," Maurice said. "We have got just a number of very classy veterans that are very involved in the community. And then there are a lot of good young guys, and they -- that's what they are used to seeing down there with the college sports. They're used to seeing young athletes performing, so I think there's a real good mix."

Talk about a mix. Sports fans that were once divided by their allegiances to the Blue Devils, Tar Heels and Wolfpack are unified -- all in the name of hockey.

"In The Triangle, from a sports rooting standpoint, there seems to be a division in three segments," said NHL commissioner Gary Bettman. "This is the one opportunity the community has had to come together and root for something en masse."

And boy do they root. With their raucous showing in this year's playoffs, fans at the ESA have been tabbed the league's loudest. Against the Red Wings in Game 3, the decibel level reached 114 -- just three short of a jet engine.

Many of the fans stand, scream and wave their hockey hankies for the entire game. Even if it's a triple-overtime game.

"I've been to the Stanley Cup in one way or another every year sine 1993 and I've never seen a place like it," said ESPN analyst Barry Melrose. "It's truly remarkable."

	"	Anytime you can find a way to mix ice hockey and tailgating -- I'm all for it. I mean this place is unbelievable. "
		— Detroit winger Darren McCarty

Pregame in the parking lot
Just as remarkable -- for a hockey game, that is -- was the scene outside the arena. Bikini-clad fans wandered the parking lot looking for attention. Fans tossed around footballs and played street hockey. A huge tent featured a virtual taste of Raleigh, with restaurants from around the area selling their specialties.

Nearby, fans gathered at a Bud Light display to play bubble hockey. They had their faces painted. They clustered around a live band. And they did everything they could to make a hockey game seem like the infield at Lowe's Motor Speedway.

"What can I say?," said Tony Carr, sitting in an inflatable pool with a beer in his hands. "This is ice hockey -- Carolina style."

The partying caught the attention of the Red Wings, who were shocked when their team bus rolled into the stadium parking lot around 4 p.m., some four hours before faceoff, and the lot was jammed and jumping.

"Anytime you can find a way to mix ice hockey and tailgating -- I'm all for it," Detroit winger Darren McCarty said. "I mean this place is unbelievable."

Teammate Jiri Fischer agreed.

"The way everyone was smiling and laughing and having fun," he said, "one would think they had to have been influenced by an alcoholic beverage."

Inside the arena, fans poked fun of themselves. They've heard the playoff-long jokes about Mayberry and Aunt Bea and are now mocking Wings fans -- and the media -- by mocking the jokes. One sign read: "Red Neck Hockey." Another: "Aunt Bea's Canes."

"It was funny at first," Maurice said of the jokes that painted Raleigh as a NASCAR town where fans throw chicken bones on the ice. "But it's probably more embarrassing now for the people who are saying it."

A lasting impression
How long this honeymoon lasts remains to be seen. Like any relationship, the newness will wear off at some point and fans will be left with a decision: Should I stay or should go?

Despite this year's success, Carolina management has acknowledged the team will again lose money. Already, season-ticket holders are griping about proposed hikes in prices, though management says it's a necessity.

Raleigh residents have to look no further than Charlotte to see what happens when management and fans bicker. The Hornets were among the NBA's league leaders in attendance in the mid-1990s, but next year they'll play in New Orleans. Then there's the NFL's Carolina Panthers, who, similar to the Hurricanes, won their division soon after arriving in Charlotte. In their second season, the Panthers made it all the way to the NFC championship game. But five losing seasons later, the franchise struggles mightily to fill Ericsson Stadium.

During the Hurricanes' regular season, television and radio support was minimal. Not all the games were on television, and those that were averaged less than 1 percent of the region's 610,350 homes with cable television. The flagship radio station measures only 10,000 watts during the day and 5,000 at night.

But one would think if such young players as Erik Cole and Bates Battaglia continue to mature, and this year's chase for the Stanley Cup is followed up with another strong run next year, this might develop into a long-term relationship that will make others envious.

"I think they are the best fans in hockey," defenseman Sean Hill said. "They love us and we love them. And I don't see any reason why that's going to change."

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer at ESPN.com.