The day the Penguins won their second Stanley Cup in 1992, I was in Chicago. Where else would I be? My friends and I had scored tickets to a matinee at Wrigley Field from a benevolent Blockbuster executive, who just happened to be sitting next to us for Game 3 between the Pens and Hawks, and who somehow found our presence endearing rather than irritating. He walked us up to his box on the 3rd base line, told us to help ourselves to food and beer, led us out to the sunshine raining down on his private balcony, and said, "Enjoy, boys." We did.
Later, we made our way over to the old Chicago Stadium, took in the thrilling 6-5 clincher, watched the Penguins hoist the Cup again, and topped the evening by greeting the team and slapping the players' hands as they made their way to the bus. In no way was that a bad day.
Oh, and I turned up in this video. Can you spot me half a lifetime ago? Where were you?
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