We all know the feeling by now. One night it looks like the Devils remember who they’re supposed to be, the next night we’re staring at another blown lead and wondering how a team with this much skill can still look this scrambled in its own zone.

The Kings game was the perfect example. Down, messy, kind of drifting… then suddenly Nico decides he’s had enough and drags the whole thing back the other way. Two goals, four points, captain doing captain things when everything else feels shaky. That’s been the constant. When Hischier’s pushing, when he’s skating like that, we look like a real team again.

And then there’s Jack. Still buzzing around with the Olympic glow and that ridiculous missing-tooth grin, and honestly playing like a guy who knows he’s the best player on the ice most nights. Since the break he’s been flying, shooting everything, driving the power play again. You watch a shift like that late power play winner and you remember why we talk ourselves into this team every single week.

But we’re also watching the same stuff that’s haunted this season. Coverage blowing open for no reason. Goalies having nights where four pucks go in before you’ve even finished your beer. The standings are what they are, and everyone in the building knows it.

Still… if you’re going to buy Devils tickets, do it for a night at the Prudential Center when the top line starts humming and the building actually wakes up. That moment when Jack curls off the wall, Bratt’s flying through the middle, Nico’s already crashing the net.

Those are the nights when it suddenly feels like something’s still alive here. And if it does turn… you’ll want to say you were in Newark when it started.