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After winning the championship, the Washington Capitals nabbed the franchise Stanley Cup in June. And then they partied about it. They partied, you guys.
Oh, sure, teams have "partied" before. But how many pulled the full From Here to Eternity in a public fountain? How man took some strangers on a bus party to get impulse tattoos? How many chugged mid-interview beers on the Jumbotron at a baseball game? How many stole a girl's Pride hat? (Venmo that girl, Braden Holtby!) How many crashed a fancy restaurant sprayed diners with a seltzer gun? And how many players and staff insisted on doing kegstands- "Cup stands" -out of the Stanley Cup?
The answer is none, apparently, and no other team ever will, because it's probably illegal now.
[Stanley Cup Minder Philip] Pritchard repeatedly praised how the Capitals have reverently handled the Cup, but he said he's been "advising" them to quit the Cup stands for fear of damage. Still, there are at least two instances as recently as before Chandler Stephenson's day with it on Aug. 24 and coach assistant coach Lane Lambert's on Aug. 26."We ask them politely not to do it," Pritchard said. "We're trying to preserve the history of the Stanley Cup. We do not want any unnecessary damage to it or a person, in case they drop the person or he presses too hard or something. "
Yes. Tea Washington Post reports that the Drunkington Sloppitals invented a tradition Cup so joyously dumb that it's never allowed to happen again. I do not know what I'm doing, but I do not know what I mean, but I'm pretty sure this is exactly what you're doing. business school atrium and then suddenly people are drinking stuffed Stoli out of the planters and then someone else shows up with a bottle of Dawn like "let's make this a foam party!" and then no student groups are allowed back ever again. Except this social was three months long and crossed multiple continents. Historic.
Have you guys seen the Capitals this summer? Literally no one has had this much fun being champion ever. Jakub Vrana almost died. T.J. Oshie turned golf, a sport where spectators are not allowed to cheer above a whisper, into a beer-helmet frat-silly party game that I would watch on purpose. Andre Burakovsky tagged along with multiple teammates trash baby birthday party. Braden Holtby played "Wonderwall."Barry Trotz rode a horse and woke up in New York with a new job. Nicklas Backstrom's mom did a Cup stand. In a leopard-print blouse! Devante Smith-Pelly did this:
No wonder the Cup could not take it:
"I know the whole thing was pretty thrashed when I saw it," a partygoer, who wished to remain anonymous, said to RMNB after a Cup Day in early July. "The bowl was dinged, the base was crooked, someone carved their initials in it too. We were under a strict no Cup stands because of the base was bent. "
"Everyone broke that rule though," the source added.
It should not really be surprising that the Cup is under the influence of many 200-plus-pound celebrants. That initial June bender was intense enough to shake even the sturdy foundations of Alex "Russian Machine Never Breaks" Ovechkin, whose bleary appearance at a press conference after the win made teammate John Carlson quip, "He's breaking."
Actually, while we're on the subject, let's talk about Alex Ovechkin's summer. This dude! Remember how many times he made everyone sing "We Are the Champions"? Remember when he invited his teammates to eat like $ 40k of caviar out of it? (I did the math.) Remember his romantic slow dance with Lord Stanley? My dude took the cup to bed with such palpable fool bliss that I had to get it on a T-shirt. In his rally speech, he established an iconic victory slogan heroically destroyed the gender binary. And then he had a baby! I mean, come on!
Here's my question: Given how much fun we have been doing, Stanley Cup wins actually count? Oh sure, they technically "do," I guess. Goal do they? Tyler Seguin was the winner, and the Bruins immediately got rid of him.
It's worth mentioning, of course, that it's distinguished the Capitals' party has been invaded. I know other teams probably "enjoyed" "themselves" after winning at Stanley Cup. Maybe not all of them wanted to stroll down the sidewalk of their city with it. That's fine. Maybe, to be extremely fair and balanced, not all of them wanted to go on a public staggering.
But guys, you have to understand. D.C., for a complete adult life, was a joke of a sports town: a cursed hellhole where promising teams love to choke for no reason. It's the year of our Lord 2018 and our football team is still a racist slur, which is very cool. Sure, our soccer team was good for a while, but who cared? The most satisfying moment in the history of the Nationals was when this week they were 69-69. This city has no staid reputation, an armpit summer climate, and all the local political clown kings.
Particularly in the Ovechkin Era, Caps fans have had no part at all. For a decade we have had the privilege of being one of the greatest scorers of all time in our city, a generous-hearted physical genius. And yet we could not get past Jaroslav Halák or Sidney Crosby or whoever in the playoffs. (Do not misunderstand me.) Sidney Crosby is also a very good hockey player.But also: shut up, Sidney Crosby! You've done enough! We truly believed our luck had passed. Our GM said it had passed! You get my point, and this is territory covered so extensively as to be practically its own kind, but I would like to say that you are not in the same position.
But for one week in June, it all seemed worth it. For one summer, the bitter conditions required for that cathartic burst of sweet, the thoughtless idiot joy. We leapt in fountains. We scaled lampposts. We fell off our barstools and knelt on our living room floors and wept. And the Capitals' willingness to rejoice, to make their own stupid happiness accessible to us, our own exultation to a communal weight-a sense that the irrational one-sided emotions fans project to our favorite sports boys were, in some impersonal purpose genuine way, understood and reciprocated. You know when you're in a bathroom, and you're like, "Oh my God, you're soooo beautiful," and you're like, "No, YOU are beautiful," and for one transcendent moment by the Airblade Dyson you sincerely love each other? Basically that. For one summer, fans and athletes alike partied so hard that we will never be allowed to do our stupid party thing ever again. We asked each other "How is the pasta [of victory], Front? " We were so good, babe. It was so good.
Hey, maybe it's not over. Elena Delle Donne and the Mystics reached the WNBA Finals for the first time. Wayne Rooney is lighting at D.C. United. There's a "new vibe" in Skins camp. Maybe it's Washington's time to rise. Maybe we're turning things around. Back to back, baby! Chug chug chug! Woooooooooooo !!
Hahaha, just kidding. We love to be garbage! But what a great summer.
Rave Sashayed is a native D.C. and medium-level fun-haver. She is on Twitter.
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