A Look Back: Hawks Win 2010 Stanley Cup

I am posting this old column I wrote in an effort to remind all Chicago Blackhawks fans just how tough it can be to win the Stanley Cup, and how glorious.

I hope you all enjoy this, I wrote it right after the Hawks won the Cup. If they can force a Game 7 against Detroit, what will ensue in Chicago will be nothing short of spectacular to watch. Thanks for reading, and yes, these numbers in this column are accurate and a perspective I didn't see anyone else discuss.

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PHILADELPHIA (2010) - The city of Chicago waited 17,951 days for this moment.

Let's just put that into persepective. That's 430,824 hours. It's 25,849,440 minutes. It's also an almost unfathomable 1,550,966,400 seconds....as in 1.55 BILLION seconds.

That's how long it was since the last time the Chicago Blackhawks won the NHL's Stanley Cup, way back in 1961. Until last night, that is, when the league's longest championship drought vanished in a magical instant in overtime at Philadelphia's Wachovia Center.



And no, those numbers aren't misprints. Just stop, and think about how long a second takes to pass by. And imagine waiting 1.55 billion-plus seconds for something that you've always wanted, something you've always dreamed of, to happen.

That is what happened to all Chicago Blackhawks fans last night.

To be honest, watching this happen still kind of seems like a dream to me. When baby-faced Patrick Kane scored the overtime-winner that clinched the Cup for the Hawks, and I watched as Chicago captain Jonathan Toews carried the world's greatest trophy around the ice, it felt like a video game to me. Was this really happening?

Tears welled up in my eyes, even moreso than when my beloved Chicago White Sox won the World Series. I certainly wasn't the only grown man who felt like weeping tears of joy at exactly 10:05 p.m., which amazingly and coincidentally, was also the exact date, 10/05 (October 5th), that I was born on. Maybe that's why it seemed so surreal.

This, well, this meant something special to me. Maybe it's just the overwhelmingly fond memories of my dad taking me out of school when I was in first grade to watch my first-ever Hawks game at the Old Chicago Stadium, being careful not to tell me where we were going until we arrived. Maybe it was all the nights I sat watching the Hawks live, through the years when they couldn't fill half the building and just plain stunk. Or maybe it was the night I sat and watched them lose live at about 1:15 in the morning in triple overtime of these very same playoffs in 1996.

Whatever the reason, the bond I felt toward this team was, and is, indescribable. I sit here typing this, and I am at a loss for words. I really, truly am. Even when the Blackhawks scored the game-winner, the red light that is supposed to go on to indicate a goal being scored never lit up inside the building.

It was almost as if life itself was put on pause, and couldn't believe what had just happened.

Indeed, for about 10 seconds after the puck went in, it seemed as if Kane was the only one who knew he had scored the Cup-winner, as he skated like a bullet in celebration toward teammate and goalie Antti Niemi the same way a child who has just won a little league championship would go berserk. It was all adrenaline.

"I was the only one who knew it was in (the goal)," Kane said. "I just had to celebrate a little bit more so everyone knew it was in."

Chicago has seen championships before, but this one was unique. When even Chicago Bulls NBA legend Michael Jordan comes out to the stadium "he built" as he did earlier in the series for a rare public appearance in the building he tragically almost never enters -and dons a Hawks jersey himself - you know you are watching a special, once-in-a-lifetime bunch.

And perhaps that is part of the magic of the 2010 Chicago Blackhawks. How they were embraced by generations of fans. Young fans, old fans, black fans, white fans, hispanic fans, asian fans, indian fans, fans who had never watched a hockey game. If you were trying to find a Hawks ticket this season and somehow did, congratulations, you were one of the few, considering they sold out every home game.

And to think, just a few short years ago, the building was so empty, you could yell from the upper level of the United Center, and the players could hear you clear as day. The anticipation of this moment possibly happening had been weighing on Toews' mind more than he had previously admitted, and a sense of relief came over the series MVP as he spoke after the game.

"The last few days since we won game three it's been absolute torture," Toews said. "The lack of sleep and just thinking about this moment right here, you just replay it over and over...you can't believe it now that it's real."

Every season like this has magical moments, memories to last a lifetime. There was Patrick Kane's short-handed goal in round one against Nashville, followed by Marian Hossa's stunning overtime winner against Nashville.

There was Duncan Keith, a.k.a Duncan "teeth" losing seven of his chompers after taking a puck off the face in these 2010 playoffs.

Of course, we could also talk about first year Hawks goalie Niemi's performance, winning 16 playoff games when no one thought Chicago's netminding would be strong enough to hoist the Cup in the first place. What should frighten the rest of the league is how young this entire team is. There may be even more Cup runs on the way in the near future from the talented nucleus on this team.

"I know I'm missing a lot of teeth," Keith, who is by far my favorite Hawks player despite the gaping hole in his mouth, said. "But I think everyone on this team sacrificed, and really a huge team effort tonight to make the win."

If Keith isn't awarded the Norris Trophy as the league's best defensemen when they hand out postseason hardware soon, someone will have to call the FBI and report a robbery. That's how good this man's defense has been in what was probably the most solid season a Hawks blue-liner has ever put together from wire-to-wire in team history.

Then there's Chicago winger Marian Hossa, who lost in the Stanley Cup Finals with Pittsburgh and then Detroit in consecutive years, before finally winning one with the Hawks this time around. Considering the puck that tied the game for Philadelphia late in the third period and sent the game to overtime went off Hossa's skate, it would have been easy to understand if the Windy City's fans though for a moment - "hey maybe this Hossa guy has a Stanley Cup jinx."

"I still can't believe the puck went in," Hossa said of Kane's sure to be iconic Cup winner. "I had to go ask personally the referee (to make sure it went in)."

So surreal was this ending, you see, that even those on the ice couldn't believe what had happened even though they witnessed it firsthand right in front of their own eyes.

But unlike Chicago Cubs lore, there are no black cat or billy goat curses on the west side of Chicago where these Blackhawks reside.

Just a shiny 30-plus pound silver cup that is making its way to Chicago on an airplane now, ready to greet a city that deserves this moment like no other. Oh what a moment. Oh, what a season.

I could write about this for the next 24 hours and not run out of quotes or things to talk about. Moments like these are, quite simply, the rarest of rare.

This moment speaks for itself in so many ways, on so many levels, for so many people.

Enjoy it Chicago. You've been waiting for this for 1.55 billion seconds.

Why Urlacher Was Really One of a Kind

I've only met Brian Urlacher a few times, but following his announcment that he'd retired from the National Football League, I felt compelled to share a story with you all.

It was about seven years ago now I found myself sitting at the front desk of a very small business in the north suburbs of Chicago one cool Fall morning ... a window tinting company actually.

I'd been hired by them part-time to assist with customers, work in the back on cars, etc.

As I peered out the large glass front window, I noticed two men exit a white Cadillac Escalade. I did a double take.

"Is that...?" I asked myself quietly yet aloud.

Sure was. There was Urlacher approaching my front door, along with his younger brothey Casey, (who is now the Mayor of Mettawa, Illinois and all its 547 residents, by the way). Both were wearing white baseball caps and black sweatpants. If not for the 6-4 Urlacher being much taller, the brothers easily could've passed for twins.

In they walked.



"I'd like to make an appointment," Brian said.

"Your name?" I asked.

"Brian," he said.

"Your last name Brian?" I followed.

The sheer look of confusion that had just washed over his face was priceless. About to reply I interrputed him.

"I'm just messing with you dude," I said. "I know who you are."

Roaring laughter followed from the three of us. Good ole' heartfelt laughter.

The next day, when his vehicle was finished, he had his ex-wife come in with two of his beautiful children. Disappointed I wouldn't see him again, I informed my boss as I heard her call him up on the phone.

Despite her reassuring him that he didn't have to come into the shop, less than five minutes later, there he was again in the office. Letting his kids play with my boss's dog. Asking me questions about how we do the work we do.

Moments later, it was time to write him up a receipt. I also had a football waiting for him to sign.

"I'm not supposed to do this, so please don't tell my bosses," I said. "Could you sign this for me man?"

Without hesitation, he nodded and reached toward the marker I held. I then accidentally left a three-inch mark on his hand. Before I could apologize, he leaned down and smiled.

"It's ok," Urlacher said. "Who would you like me to make the signature out to?"

Almost an hour he stood there, hanging with us in the office. My boss then asked me to pull his second vehicle around the building that had been in for servicing. I agreed and did.

Upon handing Brian his keys, he looked at me and said "So, like how it handles?" It was a blue Mercedes AMG hardtop convertible.

Stunned, and nearly speechless, I tried to think of something clever yet professional.

"I'm not even trying to beat on your car dude," I told him with a laugh. "And don't forget you left your playbook in the back seat. I'm guessing that's important."

Talk about trust.

Why do I share this story? Not to name drop. Although it was pretty cool meeting the guy, obviously. But to illustrate a much larger point about this man.

On the football field, I could write about the countless things he did, the endless accolades.

But people liked Brian Urlacher not just for his football, but equally for the kinds of stories Chicagoans everywhere have that are similar to mine above. He will be remembered as one of the most storied players not just in Bears history, but NFL history as well. And as a man who cared.

People could relate to him. The fact he was a parent. The fact that if you stopped to talk to him, you felt like he was actually listening. And the fact that whenever this man found time, he was giving back to kids and charitable causes.

Sure, this is how people are supposed to act. With respect, class, honor, dignity --- and with leadership. Traits Urlacher all displayed every time he walked onto a football field, a locker room, or even your neighborhood grocery store.

In an era of spoiled, whiny celebrities, Brian Urlacher was a breath of fresh air. While not perfect or free from scandal, Urlacher off the field was always the consumate "everyman." One who did his best not to let success change him. One who belongs on the first ballot Hall of Fame.

One who never forgot he's just like you or me.

That, my friends, is as important as anything as far as I'm concerned to his legacy. Forget his harsh words for the Bears organization weeks ago when they refused to re-sign his battered body. That was the gamer in Brian, the fuel that fired him speaking out.

Some things will never change. This is one of them. They way it should be. A winner. A role model for kids.

Brian Urlacher: A Chicago Bear for life.

Thank you, sir.