Oh Stanley!

This week the most Holy of Holies made it's way through our town. This chalice, with all of its rich history and sacred wonder, was displayed at the city's capitol rotunda. Hushed crowds numbering in the hundreds stood in line for hours just to catch a glimpse of this hallowed relic. The security guard whose job it is to transport and display this cup stood by with dignified grace, his hands ensconced in white cotton gloves, as no human hands should ever sully the revered chalice. Was this solemn group of worshipers a sea of Catholics waiting to venerate the holy cup of the Pope? No. This incredible display of reverence was all for the sake of the Stanley Cup, Hockey's version of the Holy Grail. One by one the trembling wide-eyed wannabees approached the cup and almost genuflected. Some kissed it; others were content to just touch the handle that had over the years been lifted by so many hockey greats. Tears of joy welled up and grown men were speechless in the presence of such a sacred icon.

The cup travels almost 300 days per year. Players in the past have had many experiences with it. Stories of it’s high jinks include letting a Kentucky Derby horse use it as a feedbag, having a baby photographed sitting in it, taking it to a strip club where all the patrons were allowed to drink from it, and reportedly Bryan Trottier said that he took the cup to bed with him. He was quoted as saying “I wanted to wake up and find it right beside me. I didn’t want to think I’d just dreamed of this happening.”

What is this magic that draws people out in droves just for a glimpse? Is it the idea that one can aspire to greatness with determination and perseverance? Or is it that this is one of the great sports where a player can legally bash his opponent up against the glass and crack a stick up the side of his head? No hushed tones as with golf, or the precision of the Olympic gymnasts. Hockey is balls out, racing for your life and taking no prisoners. It’s a gloves off, old school brawl at times, and I think that’s what we love about it. If a player can spit out a tooth and insult another players mother all while flying across the ice to stop a goal, the crowd will go nuts with the joy of it!

You've got to love this country where a woman can run for president and grown men can humble themselves at the sight of a sports trophy, all with the same enthusiasm and respect. Rock on Red Wings!