Lord Stanley of Preston purchased a silver bowl for about $49 in 1893 and presented it to the best amateur hockey team in Montreal.The Montreal Amatuer Athletic Association, later the Canadians, were the first winners of the Stanley Cup. The National Hockey League later adopted the Stanley Cup in 1910.
The Cup is now 110 years old, and still being passed around from team to team each year. Unlike other professional sports championship trophies like the Lombardi Trophy in football, NBA championship trophy, and the World Series trophy, players grow up wanting to win the Stanley Cup, where the winning team gets to keep the actually trophy, the Stanley Cup is passed on from year to year to the winning team. The names of the players on the winning team are engraved into the Cup and forever immortalized.
When I began playing hockey I quickly learned what the Stanley Cup was and I knew I had to some day, some how see it. I had to touch the Cup, touch the history of the game of hockey.
As a youth hockey player I had dreams of hoisting the Stanley Cup over my head. In high school I worked at a liquor store owned by one of my teammates parents. When an empty keg would come back, I would carry it to the back over my head as if it were the Stanley Cup.
In high school I had a picture of the Cup hanging over my bed. I could have hung the picture anywhere, but I wanted it above my head so that it was the first and last thing I saw every day. It was my inspiration to play my best when I went to hockey practice and games.
When I would watch the Stanley Cup championship team raise the Cup above their heads every year I wondered what it would be like just to touch the Cup.
With the NHL All-Star festivities making their way through St. Paul this past weekend, the Stanley Cup made the journey to the RiverCenter so fans of all ages could take a moment to touch the cup and have their picture taken with it.
Knowing the Cup was in town, I decided I had to go see it, but I needed an excuse to go down there. I thought about it, and decided to pick my nephew up from school Thursday. We got down there early so we checked out the Ice Palace and we got to see the boards that were used for the Heritage Game in Edmonton, and the fish that was frozen into a block of ice.
The gates to the NHL Fantasy Fest opened at 4 p.m. and we were the first in line. Once we were allowed through the turnstiles, my nephew darted for the interactive games. I patiently watched as he had fun, but inside I couldnít wait to make my way to see Lord Stanleyís Cup.
Taking the advice of one of the volunteer workers, we headed to the upper level where all the NHL trophies were on display to beat the rush. As we walked around I caught a glimpse of something shining out of the corner of my eye.
There it was, the Stanley Cup, and I was seeing it with my own eyes and not on the TV. We got in line and waited our turn to spend a moment with the Cup.
After a short wait, we were the next in line. I handed a volunteer worker my camera and instructed them that I wanted a picture of my nephew and me with the Stanley Cup, then one of each of us alone with the Cup.
The group ahead of us finished and I started walking toward the Cup, wide eyed like a kid seeing Santa Claus on Christmas.
I slowly walked toward the Cup, looking at it, thinking of the greats that had their names engraved on it, then I placed my hands upon it. Some may say itís only a big piece of silver, but to a hockey fan, the Cup is the symbol of hockey, and I had it in my hands.
I could have spend all day searching for names like Hull, Belfour, Howe, Gretzky, and Roy, but I had to move along and let the people behind me have their time with the Cup. As I walked away I couldnít help but look back over my shoulder and smile. I finally got to see the Cup and touch it.
My time with the Cup was brief, but the memory of it will last forever in my mind, and if it doesnít, I have the pictures to remind me.
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