Tuesday greetings from the greatest city in the world.
As many of you may know, I am an avid, sort of over-the-top hockey fan. Having grown up in Boston and having the likes of Bobby Orr and Phil Esposito of the Boston Bruins as my heroes, hockey has always been in my blood. Then I moved to Florida where, at the time, there simply was no hockey. Then came the move to Chicago, where the team here was dismal at best. I went to a few games through the years in a half-empty stadium.
Then, about seven or eight years ago, I began walking down to the United Center, not far from where I live, about ten minutes before the games. I would pay ten dollars at the ticket window for a seat way, way up in the "300 level" and began to watch two very young nineteen year-old kids play hockey like I had not seen in Chicago: Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane. In the past six years, counting the great win last night, "my" Chicago Blackhawks have now won three Stanley Cup Championships in six years.
You know, in our world of Church and publishing, and all the joys and disappointments that accompany that work, sometimes it's just good to stop and enjoy something that brings so much excitement and joy to life. For me, that's Blackhawks hockey.
Today, I am basking in it all; just grateful for the opportunity to have gone to some games this year and to have cheered on a group of guys who impress me by their skill, their humility, and their love for me, because I am their greatest fan.
Thank you, Chicago Blackhawks.
Gotta sing. Gotta pray.