My father is a hockey fanatic in the truest sense of the word. He can hardly think while the Chicago Blackhawks are playing. It's like he's transported to another world.
This is why I'm so happy for him today. The Blackhawks are going to the Stanley Cup finals.
When we were children, we could skate before we could ride bikes. We sat outside an ice cream shop for the last game on the 1971 Stanley Cup finals. My parents promised us ice cream, but couldn't leave station wagon until they heard the last few minutes of the game. Once it was over, they could hardly eat ice cream as they were so disappointed.
They are hard core fans. My parents used to take a bus down to the Chicago Stadium to see games. They lived for hockey. Today they don't go to many games, but now they can watch them on TV. Thank you Rocky Wirtz!
Yesterday when the final game was on TV, I watched in our family room. When the team scored, I turned up the surround sound so the entire neighborhood could hear Chelsea Dagger. I think people for blocks around us could hear it. It was so loud the girls came in and asked me to turn down the music.
It was crazy. We had an unusually hot day (about 90 degrees), so normally we'd be outside. All I could do is sit on the couch and panic. Seriously. Sometimes I am my father's daughter, except I don't swear as much as he does when he watches the game.
So, we're in the Stanley Cup finals, which means I have only a few more days to teach the girls the Blackhawks song -- Here Come the Hawks.