The first summer that Paul and I were dating the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup. As a non-athletic girl I wasn’t following the season closely (an impossibility while at school, anyway) but as a Canadian, the outcome was still important to me. Paul called me after the final game, completely elated that his Red Wings had won. It was an omen, he told me.
He was right. If I was going to marry an American boy, at least I had found one who could talk hockey.
Tonight the Anaheim Ducks won the Stanley Cup. It is the first time a Californian team has ever won, and the first time in a long time that a West Coast team has won. Again, I consider it a good sign. I remember all those times I wanted to leave California and felt prompted to stay put just a little longer. I’m not saying this is the reason, but I’m not saying it’s not, either. I’m just saying …
***Edit: My brother in law put it best: “The confluence of [our family] from Detroit and Canada brought Hockey mojo to SoCal.”