I kissed the Stanley Cup.

Despite my admonishments to people who have hugged, smooched, caressed or otherwise brought the stinking silver bowl close to their anatomy (my favorite story is about the tradition of the winning team peeing on the cup), I was overcome with awe and planted my own puckers on the big dish.

In truth, I was kissing a faux cup.  The real Stanley Cup is in a little vault adjacent the main “display” room, in a glass case safe from peoples’ grubby lips.  Most people don’t know that the cup that gets tossed about now is a full-scale replica made in the 1960’s.  The replica is just as much a part of hockey lore as the real thing, and I revel delightfully in the fact that the real cup lives permanently in Toronto now.

Still - it was an honor to kiss something so revered in Canada.

And so ends one of the dares that I was challenged with.

2 comments
Posted in Blog
Written on Tue, 01 January 2008 at 3:02 pm
Tags: Canada, hockey, Stanley Cup, Toronto
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