Unless you are hiking the Appalachian Trail, you have probably heard that the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup Finals last night. People were out in the streets in Chicago celebrating; Wrigleyville and Division Street were a sea of revelers, tens of thousands of them drinking and screaming and relishing the rarity of this event. In Hyde Park, where I live, near the University of Chicago and Obama’s house, the celebrations were a bit more refined. Ten minutes after the game ended I heard some loud noises outside my window. I looked down on the street and saw two students arguing about Plato. Things got so agitated, that I actually heard one of them utter the word “preposterous.” It’s incredible how a sports victory will bring out the animal in people who are normally in control of their emotions.
Tomorrow will be the victory celebration downtown. Because of a previously scheduled festival, the celebration was moved out of Grant Park to Wacker Drive. Grant Park will be hosting the Blues Fest this weekend. I really feel sorry for the performers and people attending that event–how can anyone wallow in the blues when the Blackhawks just won the Stanley Cup for the first time in 49 years? “My baby done left me….but the Blackhawks won !!!!!! Woo hoooo.” Not my idea of the blues.
And what will happen to the identity of Chicago sports fan who wear the title of “loveable losers” like a badge they are proud of. With the Blackhawks victory, those days will be over. No more crying out for sympathy about the long-suffering Cubs–“you have the Blackhawks, stop companing.” On doctor’s orders I’ve pretty much stopped following the Cubs anyway–watching their games made me feel like those weirdos who listen to police scanners so they can gape at the aftermath of grisly car accidents.