(Bridge entering Chicago, through rainy windows.)
Luckily, we arrived at Chicago's Union Station at 12:35pm, so I had about an hour to play with. Union station was CHAOS. Worse than any airport I've ever experienced. I navigated crowds, waited in long bathroom lines and even grabbed a little bottle of happiness...or a Diet Coke. Every which way I turned there were tables packed with celebratory t-shirts and Stanley Cup replicas...frustrating.
As I got into line to board the Zephyr I was between two guys that were probably in their early to mid 20's. The guy behind me says out loud, in the general direction of the guy in front of me, "Hey, what's your sweatshirt say?"
Without even skipping a beat I answered for him. "It says, 'one goal', I said a little annoyed (it was a Black Hawks sweatshirt).
The guy behind me replied, "Heh, actually it was two."
So...not... cool.
This all lead me to ponder my theories about what lead to the epic disappointment that fateful Monday night. It can be summed up in 5 words...New Kids on the Block. Yep. You see, they angered the hockey Gods. I realized this the other night while I was packing for this trip and watching the Boston Strong concert. NKOTB came on and, as a bunch of men in their mid-forties, proceeded to sing their 20 year old, boy band songs...VERY silly (though I know many of you will be mad at me for saying that). Anyways, they were wearing bedazzled Bruins jerseys throughout this whole thing...which is where angry hockey Gods come in. I am convinced this is what happened, that our fate was sealed then.
Seriously?!?
Up next: More Amish friends and the California Zephyr
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