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That's for St. Louis, the city whose team won the Stanley Cup, a phrase that seemed unfathomable in early 2019 – and now, 2019 will forever be remembered as the year of the first championship.
This includes, of course, players, coaches and leaders, as well as all those who contributed to this year's Blues. But we know very well that it's for more people than that.
This is for anyone who has taught you to love blues.
This is for anyone who has taught you to love Blues.
This is for Bobby Plager.
This is for the original Blues, those aliens who have entered our lives and created a culture.
This is for Tom Stillman … and all the other St. Louis who feel like they own a part of the team.
This is for the living statues that walk on our streets – Federko, MacInnis and Hull. And Oates. And Chris Pronger and Brendan Shanahan. And Mike Shanahan and Ron Caron. And Twister and Chaser.
This is for all men who wore the "C."
It's even for, oddly, David Backes.
This is for Garry Unger and Joey Mullen and Wayne Babych and even Wayne Gretzky. And Red and Walt and CuJo and Liuuuuuuuut.
This is for fans who flew from St. Louis to Boston, to cheer on and witness it. And feel that.
This is for fans who allow the Blues to determine their moods, to sing their emotions, to make them full. This is for fans who are more attached to the St. Louis part than the Blues part. This is for the fan who could not tell you the difference between a failure before and a poke-check, but just loves the speed and spirit of the games.
This is for every worker who has spent a portion of his salary on a ticket to see the Blues.
This is for Bob Gassoff and Pavol Demitra.
This is for Dan Kelly, the broadcaster who taught us the subtleties of this sport with his golden voice.
This is intended for Norm Kramer, the first blues organist who wore these bright jackets, and Jeremy Boyer, the current blues organist who can play "Hallelujah" in churches – and can now at Enterprise Center.
This is for fans who have had a crew cut and then long hairy hair, then a shorter combed cut, then a mullet and then sparse hair and now more hair – and never seen the Blues win the Cup until now.
It was for the Sutters and the Plagers and for the Cavallinis and all the brothers of Saint-Louis who dreamed, while playing in the rinks, the alleys or the local streets, that they could someday look like the Sutters, the Plagers or Cavallinis.
It was these Blues who gave us the most goals, whether Ron Schock and Mike Crombeen or Doug Wickenheiser and Troy Brouwer.
It's for the memories of the Arena that floated in our minds like the smoke floating in the beams over there, on Oakland Avenue, where so many of you grew up.
This is for the towel man in section 314.
This is for Ken Wilson's "Oh Baby!" And for Charles Glenn's "O & # 39; er ramparts."
This is for everyone who has known Pat Maroon in his childhood and all the children who want to become Pat Maroon.
This is for Laila. And Ari.
This is for the old Blues who came and never left. From Mike Zuke to Perry Turnbull from previous generations, to Jeff Brown and his colleagues, these men shared their hockey knowledge with the sons and daughters of St. Louis – theirs and their neighbors – making this Midwestern town the heart of hockey, which continues to grow with each winter. Jay Bouwmeester, the new champion, said: "Hockey is more rooted in the community because so many people who played here have stayed here."
This is for my friend who just turned 40 and is married to a girl and is the most "grown-up" of all my friend – and he's already shared that if the Blues ever won the Stanley Cup, it would be " the most drunk guy on parade, "which leads you to wonder how others will behave.
This is for bars, lounge chairs and barbecues where blues fans gather and unite for a bite and Bud Light.
This is for the community that is linked like hockey skates.
This is for babies who have just been born – like MacKenzie Gloria Marie Kovarik, with her middle name inspired by the song. Babies who have no idea what they were born in – a world where the Blues are champions, where the Blues are the envy of the National Hockey League. They were born in a world that their parents or grandparents could not understand, because the St. Louis Blues, for generations, have often been a good team, but never the best.
And now, the St. Louis Blues are the Stanley Cup champions.
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