Thrill is fleeting but keeps repeating for Blackhawks

CHICAGO -- On Thursday morning, a loitering, hopeful crowd was three stores deep on a closed section of State Street, with nothing to do but wait.

The crowd was of mostly self-styled Chicago Blackhawks fanatics, many wearing the look of the day, heavy hockey sweaters and shorts. They took selfies or drank from brown paper bags, ran around holding hands or just stood in the middle of the street, waiting.

It felt like the largest conclave of sweaty suburban teenagers in the Midwest.

As they say on local TV news broadcasts, everyone loves a parade. Especially a championship parade.

For the third time in six years, the Stanley Cup champion Blackhawks took over downtown Chicago for a party.

Standing on the sidewalk on State Street, every few minutes a roar echoed down Monroe Street but nothing followed. And every few minutes, some young daredevils shinnied up the lightpole at the corner and led the crowd in chants, or on a few occasions, sprayed them with Champagne.

Cops watched from across the street atop a police van.

A woman watched a television livestream on her phone -- how she got cell service is a mystery -- and announced we'd see the actual parade, trolleys and buses in a few minutes.

She was right, and when they came down Monroe Street, a sea of people held up their cellphones so they could remember the moment they were missing with their own naked eyes. That's happiness in the 21st century.

The Blackhawks mascot waved a flag, and someone held up the Stanley Cup, and then it was over.

As Jonathan Toews said the other day, the experience of being champions "just skips away so fast." There is nothing to regret and nothing to look forward to, and the moment is fleeting.

That goes for parades as well.

After it was over, thousands of celebrators walked up Roosevelt Road and through the underpass toward the museum campus as thousands walked the other way, a gridlock of red as we approached Soldier Field. Fans stood on the steps of the Field Museum, just to be close to the action.

The rally itself was pretty perfect, from the highlight videos to radio man Pat Foley's hockey-dad jokes ("Do you know where Moose Jaw is? About six feet from the moose's ass.") to goaltender Corey Crawford dropping another F-bomb to the crowd booing Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel as if he were Gary Bettman or a Sedin twin.

When it was his turn to speak at the rally, Patrick Kane said, "I know you said I've been growing up, but watch out for me for the next week."

Hey, if you can't celebrate a championship, what can you celebrate? World peace ain't marching down Monroe.

It got a little dusty when Kris Versteeg honored the son of assistant equipment manager Clint Reif, who died last December. But mostly this was just a celebration.

Years ago, I read a study about sports fans and how they either bask in reflected glory or cut off reflected failure. There was a lot of basking going on inside Soldier Field.

Unlike, say, the regular inhabitants of that stadium, the Blackhawks make their fans feel good about themselves. This is what marketers would call an "aspirational brand." It's working. These fans are hooked for life, or at least until Toews and Kane retire. The Blackhawks are a very likable team. You want to be friends with these guys. (Barstool Chicago blogger Dan Katz even made it happen, partying with the team and sneaking into a picture with the Blackhawks and Cubs on Tuesday at Wrigley Field.)

But winning is what closes the deal between a team and its fans.

Toews, the responsible one, was hoarse from three-plus days of letting loose, but he managed a heartfelt speech that ended with a solid idea.

"Maybe the only way it does get better is if we win four," he said. "Let's go."

Or to translate that into their native Canadian, Conn Smythe-winning defenseman Duncan Keith said, "Let's do it again, eh?"