1. Lifting the Cup
Maybe things would have been different if the game was not in hand as the seconds ticked away. Perhaps it would have still been the same.
Regardless, the moment that none of us will ever forget is when Alex Pietrangelo hoisted the Stanley Cup over his head. The framing of Pietrangelo with the fireworks behind him was simply perfect and encapsulated a moment in time for an entire city and an entire fan base.
Regardless of what you thought or think about Pietrangelo as a play or as a captain, it was the moment everyone that has ever cheered for the Note had waited their entire lives for. We had all seen so many great players come up empty and so many promising teams fail along the way. We just wanted to see that moment and all the moments afterward.
It might not get the play or have the national significance of Mark Messier‘s reaction to winning in New York. It was that significant for the Blues and their fans.
The Blues have so many reserved guys, to see the emotion of celebration to that extent was something that may never fade as we age.
Outsiders and wet blankets focused on the order in which each player got handed the Cup or how many F-bombs were dropped. The Blues need apologize to no one.
You cannot script pure emotion. You should not silence pure reaction and say they should have had more class or handled things differently.
St. Louis might not be the behemoth of New York or Chicago, but the players felt the burden of 50-plus years nevertheless. You need look no further than their failure in Game 6 to win on home ice. The pressure was felt and the players admitted it after all was said and done.
Whether they were brand new to the team or grizzled Blues veterans, every player on that team had been doubted and scrutinized. They had been told they weren’t fast enough, weren’t good enough, not talented enough or simply a curse for whatever team they played for.
They shoved that right down the throats of every single doubter and fans were the beneficiary by getting to watch it all. They deserved a celebration where they could let it all out and they did.
Whether you waited each moment for your favorite player to lift the hockey chalice or only needed to see that initial handoff from commissioner to captain, it was as satisfying as we all hoped it would be. Even the nonsense of NBC cutting away to commercial so they could adjust their on-ice microphones was forgivable because of the occasion.
The team had finally done it. In one brief moment, we thought of all the pain we had ever sustained due to this team and those that had endured it longer than us or, perhaps, were not with us any more. In that same instant, it was all washed away
No two people could have had the exact same reaction and yet an entire city was just happy. No matter your background or if you jumped on the bandwagon or had gone through all 52 seasons, you were just happy.
Tears were shed, hugs were shared and no fan base was ever closer to their players despite half a country separating them. Whether you saw it at home or in Boston or at a watch party, it was a moment frozen in time.
The Stanley Cup was finally ours and no haters or doubters or naysayers can or will ever take that away.