No NHL title, but a measure of heart

One of the beauties of sport is that it is filled with so many lessons on life.

As those who run marathons know, the magnetism that attracts thousands onto the course isn’t an imagined thrill of victory that few can attain. But rather, they are drawn by what they will learn about themselves at the 20th mile.

As George Sheehan, the late, great sage of distance running, once put it, “Out on the roads there is fitness and self-discovery and the persons we were destined to be.”

Sheehan believed, in his stirring and exotic way, that each of us has a hero inside, a little champion just waiting to be unleashed.

And of course, this is the stuff of sports: Heroism, championships. That ultimately is the point, isn’t it? As Chicago Blackhawks President John McDonough would say, “One goal.”

Last July, we bubbled with exuberance when McDonough brought the Stanley Cup to a parade in hometown Elk Grove Village. That day was one of many summital days that celebrated an astonishing championship season, the Cup put on a relentless victors’ tour in a charismatic hockey tradition that is captivating to witness.

You see that once, you want to see it again. You feel that thrill once, you want to feel it again. That is one of the lessons of sports: Winning doesn’t decrease your appetite; it increases it.

But there’s another lesson Duncan Keith revealed recently: The second championship is harder than the first. As the defenseman confided, the natural letdown that followed the Stanley Cup high made it a struggle to raise up energies for another long season. “There were times where I would just — I don’t want to say lose focus — but was just not really as interested for whatever reason,” Keith said.

It is tempting to reflect on the Blackhawks’ 2011 finish, their defeat in the first round of the playoffs, and declare the season a failure. In some respects, the McDonough One Goal respect, it is. We want to see another banner raised. You play for a championship, and in professional sports in particular, what else is there?

There is this: The 20th mile.

For a marathoner, that mile or somewhere along there represents the mythical wall, that point where the body gives out and the runner is revealed as either survivor or conqueror.

For the Blackhawks, the 20th mile was April 17, heading to their homes down three games to none; the 20th mile was April 24, overtime in Game 6 when any mistake would be the last; the 20th mile was April 26, down 1-0 with 1:56 to go in Game 7 and Vancouver in a power play.

Yes, one more life’s lesson: It’s called heart. No matter the odds, you never give up.

McDonough will not get to lift the Stanley Cup in the suburbs again this summer. But even in defeat, the Blackhawks showed us the stuff of champions.