The day has come for me to write the article that I never thought I’d have the chance to write.
The Los Angeles Kings are the Stanley Cup Champions.
I actually waited a full week after the historic night that Dustin Brown hoisted the Stanley Cup to even start writing this piece, and a month afterwards to finish and publish it. I wanted to give the universe a chance to correct itself, me a chance to wake up from the dream I was having. Certainly there was some kind of error, a “glitch in the Matrix”, if you will.
But one month later, it is still true. I can’t speak for alternate realities, timelines, or galaxies; but in this reality, this timeline, this galaxy… the Los Angeles Kings are the Stanley Cup Champions.
As I tear up trying to decide where to even start, I suppose the very beginning is as good of a place as any. Well, the beginning of my life anyway; starting at the Big Bang might be more just, but I get the feeling this thing is going to be long and rambling enough as is.
I mentioned on Twitter that the night that the Kings won the Stanley Cup would be the greatest night of my life. A friend of mine asked a legitimate question; “Really? The greatest night of your life?” A valid question, because to most people, the Los Angeles Kings winning the Stanley Cup meant absolutely nothing. To many others, even casual fans of the team, it was cool, but certainly not life-altering.
For me, it was life-altering. It meant everything to me. Are some of you rolling your eyes or thinking that’s pathetic? If you are, I completely understand! How can a bunch of professional athletes with a certain logo on the front of their sweater mean so much to someone that is just a face in the crowd to them?
I will attempt to explain that over the next few pages. How many of you will read this from start to finish I have no idea. But here it is; a story that took 26 years to find its happy ending.