A Cup Full of Memories

11/24/2009

This time of year, with the holidays hurtling toward us at break neck speed, always makes me a bit reflective and very nostalgic.  It’s a time to think back to all of the things we are thankful for and to reflect on the year that is almost at its end.  Memories can be funny.  Sometimes they are vague and rather general - like ‘the summer I learned how to swim’ or ‘that was the year we moved to the new house’.  But sometimes they can be more like a time machine that transports us back to a day or an event from long ago and puts us right back in the thick of things.

My first Mother’s Day as a Mom obviously holds very special memories for me, which is pretty remarkable considering that O was still very new - only a few weeks old - so I’m surprised I have any memory of it at all.  The entire first six months of his life seem like one big blur, with each feeding and diaper change indistinguishable from the next.  Two years later, when MJ was born, is a similar blur of memories chock full of fatigue and cute pink onesies.  But my bank of memories also holds another Mother’s Day, one from much longer ago, that I had all but forgotten until this Spring, when the Stanley Cup came to my town.

If you grew up in the Boston area in the 1960s and ‘70s, you know, of course, which Mother’s Day I am referring to.  May 10, 1970 is as fresh in my memory as if it happened yesterday.  It was a brilliantly sunny  day - or maybe that was just the wattage being generated by my brother John as we sat down to watch the Stanley Cup finals.  Being the superstitious and rabid Boston sports fan that he was (and continues to be today), he dictated many aspects of our sports viewing.  If the Bruins were doing well during a game, no one in the room was allowed to change seats or leave the room.  If you had been present during a previous game that the Bruins had won, you had to wear the same shirt and sit in the same place in the room as you did during that winning game.  Conversely, if the opposing team were doing well and closing the gap on the score, we would be moved around (or even banished from!) the living room like pieces in a weird game of feng shui chess, hoping to give the team some good luck.  At the end of regulation, the game was tied, forcing sudden death overtime.  No one was allowed to speak.  We held our breath in our assigned seats as they dropped the puck and the overtime period began.  And 40 seconds later, history was made.  Bobby Orr had just scored the winning goal and was literally flying through the air as we all erupted in screams and jumping around the living room.  You knew this was a momentous event as we were never allowed to jump around the living room.  We didn’t live in a gymnasium, after all.   But our emotions got the best of us and we were wild!  The Stanley Cup was coming back to Boston after 29 long, long years.  My brother, literally unable to contain his elation, ran out front to join neighborhood friends who had also taken to the streets to celebrate.  Yes, that was a great Mother’s Day.

Though we never missed a game while growing up, there are no hockey fans in my house today and I miss it.  I’m ashamed to say that I’m not even sure I could name 2 or 3 Bruins right now.  Maybe because of that fateful Mother’s Day, when I think of the Bruins, I think of the team that brought the Cup back home  - Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Johnny Bucyk, Wayne Cashman, Ken Hodge, Derek Sanderson, Gerry Cheevers.  A great team, and great memories.  Not surprisingly, it was my brother John who told me that the Stanley Cup would be in my town this Spring, although not due to the Bruins.  The Pittsburgh Penguins won the Cup this year, against long odds.  John knew that one of the coaches of the Penguins lives in my town and told me that every member of the winning team gets to spend a day with the Cup.  I figured having the Cup in the same town was as close as I was ever going to get to it.  A few weeks later, the front page of our local paper announced that the Cup was indeed coming to town and that the public were invited to come view it.  It’s no lie to say that I was giddy with excitement.  There was no way I was going to miss this!!  The Cup was being shown at a park very near my house so in spite of the darkening clouds and the forecast of rain, MJ and I headed down, camera in hand.  I was very uncertain as to what the turnout would be but was not surprised at all to see that the line was long.  We took our place and kept our fingers crossed that the rain would hold off.  A gentleman approached us and told us that he couldn’t guarantee that we would be able to see the Cup up close, as it absolutely had to be out of there by 3:00.  “The Cup has another engagement” was what he kept telling people who were joining the line behind us, leaving it up to them to decide if they were going to stay or leave.  We were definitely staying.  The closer we got, the more excited I became.   

As we got to the front of the line and could see other people posing with the Cup, it was obvious that every person felt honored to be there.  The Cup seems almost human, drawing you towards it.  Everyone touched it.  Many people kissed it.  No one left without having taken numerous photos, including us.  It’s bigger in person than I had imagined and it’s just beautiful.  The Cup’s handler, as well as the coach and his family, were all extremely gracious and very generous with the Cup, giving fans - even lapsed fans like me - a memory of a lifetime.

Comments

[Liz]

My friend Jeff must know the coach since he works for them also. Have to pass along the name to him. I have looked at the pictures he has posted of the championship game and the festivities. He was so happy when they won!