I’ve watched my Washington Capitals get shut out in Las Vegas. I’ve watched them get crushed by a team I really don’t care for in Chicago. I’ve watched them win and lose on screens ranging from four to 72 inches.
I’ve never seen them win in person. But today’s my third Capitals’ game (fifth NHL game), and I’m hoping the third time’s the charm.
It’s Sunday. It’s April. It’s April 1st, and we’re the fools who scheduled a weekend driving trip in April, the month when Midwest weather decides to cycle through all four seasons in the span of two hours.
There’s one place we visited on our walk through downtown Chicago last night that I forgot to mention: The Chicago Cubs official team store.
Now, I’m not much of a baseball fan, but even I knew that the Cubs winning the World Series was a big deal. It’s not often that a sports team “curse” extends to 108 years (although there are a few other MLB teams that are looking at pretty long stretches, too).
But I remember the absolute hysterical joy and disbelief that filled my office when that game concluded and the Cubs stormed the field. It was a magical moment for the entire city of Chicago, and all the Cubs fans worldwide who had waited (not-so-patiently) for that day.
So, when given the chance, I peeked inside the store.
As you may have guessed from the title, today we hit up the Shedd Aquarium, one of Chicago’s most well-known tourist attractions. After walking what seems like a mile from the parking garage (but was probably much shorter of a distance), we arrived and skipped our way through the ticket line.
Not literally. The floors were wet from melting snow. That’s a recipe for disaster.
I’m headed back to Chicago, and this time I’m seeing some more of the Windy City … during an appropriately windy weekend. Why I chose to visit in February? Well, you see, my favorite sports team (and the only one I really follow) the Washington Capitals were in town. As was my cousin Mckenzie and her boyfriend, Aaron.
My uncle Darell graciously agreed to host the three of us for the weekend, and ended up playing chauffeur as we went sight-seeing. (Sidenote: Chicago’s pothole problem might actually be worse than Omaha’s, wonder of wonders.)
It’s always a little surreal to wake up in another city on a national holiday, especially one like Christmas. Even in Las Vegas, though, people managed to brighten the nights, stringing up buildings, poles, palm trees, and windows with twinkling lights. And there were carols playing in every store (and casino).