Why I Cheer The Anthem

There is a tradition during Chicago Blackhawks home games to cheer enthusiastically while The Start Spangled Banner is sung in the United Center.  It's a tradition that started in 1985 during a playoff game  against the Edmonton Oilers and was solidified during the 1991 NHL All-Star game hosted in Chicago.  That year, the United States had just entered the first Gulf War days before the All-Star festivities.  What resulted was an emotion-filled reaction to the National Anthem, and the old Chicago Stadium echoed loudly.

This tradition is still alive and thriving.  Chicago has finished this lockout-induced abridged regular season with a record that seems almost too good to believe.  And here we are, on the eve of the 2013 Stanley Cup Playoffs.  It isn't easy being a token hockey fan among my friends in Florida.  But it's given me the chance to ask myself, "Why do I cheer the anthem?"

I've watched hockey with my dad for as long as I can remember.  I'm sure he had me in front of the TV as soon as I could hold my own head up.  He raised my brother and me to be full-blooded Blackhawks fans.  We both had sweaters for our favorite players and played rollerblade hockey in our driveway with one of our neighbors.  And the three of us lamented as one-by-one all of our favorite players were traded.

My brother and me circa 1997 with our Eddie Belfour (30) and Chris Chelios (7) sweaters

In high school I found myself always busy with choir rehearsals, two-a-day swim practices, traveling for concerts and swim meets, and still somehow finishing my homework.  I caught parts of games when I could.  And every summer I still watched the Stanley Cup Finals with my dad.

When I left for college, I started a slide that seemed to parallel the dismal state of the Blackhawks franchise.  I let myself become trapped in a social situation in which I gave up too many things that I enjoyed and hockey was unfortunately one of them.  But I began to break free and rebuild myself around the same time Rocky Wirtz began to rebuild Chicago hockey.

I graduated college and started my first job at Notre Dame.  Still a little shy, I overheard some of my co-workers talking about hockey and found courage to interject myself into the conversation. Soon, we were all drinking beers and watching games at the Mahons' house or Jerde's apartment.  And on June 9, 2010 we watched the Chicago Blackhawks win their first Stanley Cup Championship in 49 years.  I convinced my dad to reschedule a meeting with his company's attorneys and come with me to the parade in Chicago.  It was one of the most surreal days of my life, and I'm so thankful that I share it with the person most responsible for my hockey knowledge.

Me and my dad (lower right corner) in the middle of Michigan Avenue with two million other Blackhawks fans

Hockey has been a common denominator in my adult life.  It's still one of the few things my dad and I talk about.  Even with our differing political views and communication styles, hockey is always there.  And I'm not really sure that I would have developed as strong friendships with the people I worked with if I wasn't a hockey fan.

Now that I live in Florida where hockey fans are hard to come by, listing to WGN radio streams and watching the few nationally broadcast Chicago games has helped me feel connected to home.  I've even gotten a few of my friends interested in watching games too (or maybe they're just humoring me).  Either way, hockey has been and will continue to be a part of my life.  In the words of Johnny Weidemann, "Let's send it down to Jim Cornelison and the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner.  Enjoy the anthem, everybody!"

LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!  LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!  LET'S GO, 'HAWKS!