I can’t believe we’re still talking about the Blackhawks. This is May, right? This is easily the biggest sports story in Chicago in years, the biggest turnaround by a Chicago sports franchise in my lifetime. I only wish my dad were around to see it.
Unlike my friends’ dads, mine really wasn’t into sports. But, when it came to the Blackhawks, my dad would be the first to grab the prime spot in front of the old black and white set we had in our family room. He’d be there, shoes off and feet up, all set for the opening face-off for every televised game (we didn’t have many of those back then, you might recall). Whenever the Hawks would be playing at home, he’d have the radio turned up at high volume, and the magnificent play-by-play of Lloyd Pettit would reverberate throughout not only his workshop downstairs but the entire basement.
I became a Blackhawk fan at the same time Tony Esposito arrived on the scene in 1969. Tony and his 15 shutouts were a sensation that year. My father, however, never hesitated to remind me that Glenn Hall was even a better goalie, how “he was a big guy who filled the entire net,” leaving opposing shooters little room to score on him.
My dad and I had few common interests, it turned out. But we had the Blackhawks. The Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita, Pat Stapleton, Doug Jarrett, Pit Martin Blackhawks. He and I attended only one sporting event together. Fittingly, it was a Blackhawks game at the old Chicago Stadium, as exciting a night as I ever shared with my dad.
Who knows how far the Hawks will go in the playoffs this year? It doesn’t really matter to me. Call me a fair-weather fan if you’d like, since I haven’t rooted for them in a long time, but my interest in the Blackhawks has been rekindled this year. And every game I watch puts me right on the couch with my dad, our emotions rising and falling with each goal scored or given up. That’s made this season even more remarkable to me.
