After successfully fulfilling our Ralph destiny and watching the Grand Rapids Griffins hoist the Calder Cup into our arena’s sky for all to see – I couldn’t feel better.
I had had enough. Trump. New England. Golden State. How many more slack-jawed faggots would we all have to watch wear the crown? GR trailed 1-0. 2-1. 3-2. When we finally took a 4-3 lead with seven minutes to go, it was either we protect this HOUSE OR DIE TRYING.
Ask my brother, Ethan, who bought the tickets as a birthday present for me (which is in November! and I waited until now to cash in the tickets!): I yelled louder than I ever have in my life. For that final stretch, the sweat beading down my body only amused me as I let the last of the tequila do the work.
I held onto Ethan for dear life during those final plays – but we held on & confetti exploded in the same place I’ve watched hundreds of games, forcing snarf tears to gush over my jersey. I really tried to soak it in, looking around at my ten thousand fellow Michiganders, all of us hugging like family. I will remember that moment forever…
I needed that one. My brother recently moved in, and once again sports cemented (at least in my head) more vindication for a Midwest family always struggling to survive.
I LOVE MY CITY. And to have that moment with my brother 16 years after we watched the Arena Bowl Champions in that same spot sure felt like a dream come true.