Stanley Cup Finals Ga-THE CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS ARE YOUR 2010 STANLEY CUP CHAMPS!

As the NHL commercial states, “There are no words.”

I am 34 years old, and 6/9/10 @ 10:06 PM CST will rank as the best sports moment of my life - unless of course the Cubs win it all, but since that’s a sign of the apocalypse (seriously, it’s in the Bible and everything) there may not be much celebrating. I was too young to fully appreciate the Bears in 1985. The Bulls’ six championships were nice, but I hate basketball. The Sox I treated as if any team from the AL won the World Series – I didn’t care. This was my holy grail. And I cried like a baby in public. And I’m not ashamed.

I am going to a ticker tape parade tomorrow, bitches. 24 years ago I pleaded with my mom to let me go when the Bears won it all – she refused. Finally all these years later, I get to attend one. I only wish my mom could be physically able to enjoy it with me in person.

Yesterday was pure hell on my nerves – by noon I was pretty much rendered useless at work. Throughout the day my brain alternated between visions of Toews hoisting the Cup or thinking about how I was going to sneak away from my cousin's wedding on Friday night to watch Game Seven - and what I would break if we lost. It was very bi-polar and it's a wonder I accomplished anything other than a never ending urge to vomit all day. By 4:30 I was out, picked up Amy from work and headed to a bar on the North Side to watch the game with other folks from Second City Hockey.

[R2-D2 & my WCF Game Four towel]

Minutes seemed like hours. Finally, finally after praying to the hockey gods this would be the last night I'd have to witness Pierre McGuire's face until at least October, the game begun. The Hawks came out with a purpose - obviously they understood that there was no holding back when you had the opportunity to clinch the Cup. The Hawks traded PP opportunities before Big Buff cashed in on the Hawks' second PP with 3 minutes left in the period. Who was in the box? Chris Pronger, that's who. The Hawks seemed to be heading to period two with a lead until two back-to-back iffy calls on Sopel - I guess sneezing on someone counts as interference these days. Of course evil Chewbacca tied the game up with less than a minute left on said PP. The Hawks outshot the Flyers 17-7 in the first so that left a really bad taste in my mouth.

The Hawks let a early second period PP go to waste, and the Flyers took the lead 8 minutes in on a goal by Briere. Keith apparently tripped over his own two skates which left Briere wide open to get one past Nemo. A little more than a minute later though, while on a 4-on-4, Sharpie put one past Leighton that he probably wanted back. To close out the period, Ladd made a slight tip on a blast from Toftbo near the blue line. Period over, hyperventilation begins in earnest. Btw, what was up with NBC showing these tantalizing clips of someone shining the Cup before commercial breaks? I had to shield my eyes as I felt as if someone was eating a delicious candy bar in front of me that I could not yet have. 

[20 more minutes...I had lost track of my drink count at this point]

Everything was magnified in the third. Time seemed to slow down. Every shot by the Flyers was met with gasps. Every missed shot by the Hawks were followed by a chorus of groans. The filth coming out of my mouth would have shamed most of my family. The Flyers pressed hard, leading to several odd man rushes which the Hawks should have capitalized on. Ten minutes left. "Get the damn puck out!" Five minutes left. I had Amy feel for my heartbeat - I thought I was having palpitations. Almost there, almost there. Four minutes - evil Chewbacca scores again and ties it. I though the bar would spontaneously combust with anger and disbelief. 

3:59 from winning in regulation. 3:59 - would that be the new "5 outs away" ala the 2003 NLCS? Is Chicago sports really that cursed? I could not fanthom it. It was unbearable. 

The Flyers had one more golden chance to end it in regulation but Nemo shut the door. OT here we come.

The time in between the third and OT seemed liked days. I could not move from my chair. I could only stare blankly into space and pray to whatever god that would listen that the Hawks would score. That the decades long suffering would end by the end of the night.

Shortly after the opening face off in OT, the Flyers had another prime chance to send the series back to the UC after a Hawks turnover. Again, Niemi with the save. Although he had been average for the first 57 minutes of this game, he had become a wall again, when it mattered most. 

The following memory will forever be burned in my brain until I leave this earth: Kane dekes to the net. A shot. "It must have rebounded to the neutral zone," I think as the Hawks head for Centre Ice. Everything is in slow motion. The bar seemed to be completely silent. Hawks start pouring from the bench. Kane is skating as if his mullet is on fire.

It's in.

We've scored.

WE'VE JUST WON THE GODDAMNED STANLEY CUP!

I remember screaming. I remember hugging Amy. And crying. And crying. Sitting at the table, taking off my glasses. Grabbing my game towel. Alternating between weeping into it and staring at the TVs to make sure it's really happening. Watching my fellow fans jump in jubilation, hugging anything with a pulse, yelling words and syllables that now probably make zero sense. 

Perhaps this weekend, I'll have more analysis of this moment, this series, this season. I have a parade to get ready for in the morning (ticker tape, FUCK YEAH). For now, I leave you with two videos. Both make me want to cry again: