I’ve never considered myself a sports person. I was the girl who broke the lucky team bat at my championship softball tournament in middle school; the one who permanently injured her arm by stepping over a hurdle; the player whose foot kept crossing the center line in the volleyball game until she gave the opposing team enough points to win. Since my mishaps in athletics, I have restricted my sports-watching to games featuring players I knew personally, too disillusioned to follow professional or community teams. Even so, I couldn’t help but be infected by the enthusiasm that erupted in Chicago after the Blackhawks won the 2010 Stanley Cup. I had never seen a city and so many disparate people gather as one to commemorate a team’s victory.
Two days after the big match, the city organized a parade and rally to celebrate Chicago’s win. Michigan Avenue turned into a sea of red as supporters ran to the streets in their jerseys, many of them carrying homemade imitation Stanley Cups, which must have taken entire packages of tin foil to create. As we waited for the procession to reach us, strangers started dancing with one another to the beat of the Blackhawks’ theme song, performed extemporaneously by clusters of fans. 350,000 were expected to attend the parade and subsequent rally, but in a burst of Chicago pride, two million supporters came out for the celebration.
Several nights after the festivities, I could look out my apartment window and still see the windows of business high-rises lit to form Stanley Cups. The sustained excitement over the Blackhawks’ win reminded me of the perks of working in a city where corporate and culture united. The day of the rally, my supervisor had not only permitted me, but in fact, had urged me to attend the parade. By working in Chicago, I could play as hard as I worked. Perhaps I would begin to follow sports after all.
Photograph provided by andrewneher. To view, click here.
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