Conversation at Stanley’s last night, with Christian:

Me: Do we touch the Stanley Cup?
Him: Noooooooooooo.
Me: Until?
Him: Until I win it.
Me: Gooooooood.

A note: I didn’t touch it either. The Stanley Cup, for those unaware, is the highest honor that a hockey team can win. Superstition/Tradition is such that you don’t touch the cup unless you win it. Not ‘your team’, you. As some part of an organiziation (not a fan) that wins the Cup. It was really amazing to see up close. Kelly asked about it and why *I* didn’t touch it, and I couldn’t adequately explain.. it somehow diminishes what the cup stands for if I touch and grab it. I don’t begrudge anyone their choice to touch or hold it or whatever.. but as for me, I just choose not to.

The weird thing is that then last night, I had a dream about the Cup. I was hanging around in Stanley’s late, nearly closing time, with my ‘usual’ hockey friends – Jim, Cap and Teach. The cup was there, and we were just talking with Phil Pritchard (Keeper of the Cup). I asked him if I could take another picture (the throngs had left, and the Cup was over on a table). He said sure, and I went over, and picked up the Cup and held it above my head, like the players do when they win. I lower it down and kiss it and raise it back up. Then I carefully put it down on the table. My friend Teach goes over and starts to pick it up, but we quickly realize that he’s a bit… inebriated as he staggers under the weight and almost falls. Phil decides that we should stop, and we do.

I wish there was a <dream/> tag.