The juxtaposition of the Stanley Cup and the World Cup has been hilarious: In soccer, dudes drop to the ground writhing in agony and wailing if anyone so much as breathes on them. In hockey, they get hit in the face with sticks and pucks and bleed out all over the ice and just slap on a Band-Aid and get right back out there for their next shift. Even the hockey refs do that. They must watch soccer and be like, “Are you KIDDING? WE NEVER HAD IT SO EASY.”
All the playoffs were amazing — full of breathless hockey at its very fastest and best — but the Kings-Blackhawks series and then this Kings-Rangers series gave us twelve brilliant games, and I’m almost sad it’s over. ALMOST. Because we won. Behold inside: the beards, the bromances, the gums, Darryl Sutter’s facial expressions, the explication of my Magical Haterade and why I should get the Cup for a day, and a baby sitting in Lord Stanley’s trophy.
[Photos: Getty, me]
