OK, I forgot, where did I leave off?
Man, I've missed Scorecard, but I do have to say the last couple of months have been fascinating -- as they always are with the Blackhawks.
Kaner, Toews, the OTs, the almost amazing comeback … but the one memory that will stick with me forever was the day of Game 5 in St. Louis.
I'm pretty sure it was the most ridiculous day in history.
Hop aboard the way-back machine with me:
It began innocently that April morning at O'Hare when I printed my boarding pass for a 9:02 flight that would get me to St. Louis in time for the Hawks' morning skate.
I should've known something was up when the ticket read: "No gate selected," but I went through security and headed in anyway, thinking a gate would be announced any minute.
And it only took me about 15 minutes to figure out why: The flight I had selected was for 9:02 p.m.
I put on my best dork face and the kind person behind the counter took pity on me and somehow got me on the next flight out. With my travel and laptop bags in tow, I hopped a cab straight from the airport, making it to Scottrade Center just as the Hawks' skate was wrapping up.
Wait, there's more:
After the skate, I cabbed it back toward the airport to my hotel. But when they typed in my name there -- you guessed it -- no reservation came up.
And as the woman behind the counter explained, not only were there no rooms available at that hotel because of all the conventions in town, there were no rooms available within a 60-mile radius.
She wasn't kidding.
I called more than a dozen hotels only to be told each time that they were completely booked.
So there I was:
Bags in hand in the middle of a bustling lobby wondering what the heck I was going to do for those seven hours between the end of the game and my flight the next morning.
After Jonathan Toews scored the game-winner in OT, and my stories had been filed, I was regaling my colleagues about my dilemma when Mark Potash of the Sun Times took pity.
He had a plan: I could stay with him at his mother-in-law's house, which was near the airport.
I will eternally owe both of them for their kindness.
So, in review, wrong flight, no hotel and spending the night at Mark Potash's mother-in-law's house.
Could only happen to me.
But hey, the Hawks won, I made my flight the next morning and was back in time for media availability at noon the next day at the UC.
And the beat went on.
Pretty glamorous life, huh?
Enough about me. What else is going on?
Rizzo and Castro on the 9s:
Welcome to 'BBM!
I wonder if they'll try to squeeze in as many in-game reads during Cubs game as they do during Bears broadcasts.
God I hope not.
Those last few sentences were brought to you by Larry's Heating and Cooling.
A fond farewell:
I was so happy I could make it to see my old high school baseball coach, Pat Mahoney, sent off in style a few weeks ago.
Simply a legend.
What Bob Frisk is to the Daily Herald, Pat Mahoney is to Saint Viator.
To all you dads out there, have a great Father's Day.
You deserve it.