Keith Magnuson's Jersey Retired, Three IS a Magic Number!

I've shared so many difficulties with you about Michael's situation, I'm delighted to tell you today about a truly lovely evening. The Chief must have been looking out for us on this one. 

When Michael told me the Blackhawks Alumni Association had given him two tickets for the night's event and invited me to go with him, I was thrilled. Keith was a HUGE influence and great friend to Michael so being there with him was a tremendous honor.  The trip down had me a little concerned, though. I was bracing myself for another episode of Planet Laura when Michael told me that he would just have the mechanic fix "as much as he could by noon" so we would have the van for the trip downtown.  And the thought of getting him standing at the United Center on a drizzly November night was a little intimidating but we opted to do the standing before we left and the van and traffic worked in our favor. We got there very early, pulling in right behind team captain, Johnny Toews.

With plenty of time on our hands, and of course, me with no camera (I know, I know) other than my cell phone we just tootled around making staff nervous. (They let us in the player entrance so we were probably the only public folks in there before the doors opened.)

We checked out Fandemonium, the souvenir shop and saw that Michael's book is now proudly displayed there. Wonderful to see it launched there on such a special night.  Then we passed the table where fans can make posters for the game, as can the kids who like to go crazy behind Comcast Sportscaster Steve Konroyd between periods.

"Let's make a poster!"

"I can't draw, you'll have to tell me what you want on it. You aren't going to want me to stand behind Steve screaming my head off, are you?"

"Sure I am.  Put a big number 3 on it and write "Chief Blackhawk"."

As I was doing this (very poorly) Blackhawk owner Rocky Wirtz walked by and stopped to greet Michael. "Hey, would you autograph Laura's poster?"

I shook my head as Rocky signed it, feeling like a goof. I just never understood the whole autograph thing and always feel silly in situations like this. 

"Let's go put this in the van so you don't have to carry so much."  We headed back out to the player entrance. "Hey, there's Chris Chelios and Stan Mikita. Go ask Stan to autograph your poster."

"I am not walking up to them and asking Stan for an autograph. You have to ask him." (They've known each other for years. Michael wore Mikita's number, 21, when he played.)

"Hey, Stosh, we need your John Hancock!"

"You want me to write John Hancock or my name?"

"John Hancock."

"You'll have to spell it for me."

We thought he was kidding.  I now have a poster signed by Rocky, Michael, John Hancok and Stan Mikita.  Had I known, I might have tried to make it nicer.

The retirement ceremony was absolutely lovely. I started to lose it when I saw the little peewees all wearing Number 3 jerseys along the red carpet, partly out of sadness for Keith and Michael and partly because they were so so so cute. By the time Kevin Magnuson spoke on his father's behalf, both our cheeks were getting a great soaking.  Pierre Pilote and the Magnusons both expressed how humbled they felt that Number 3 was retired in their mutual honor. 

"I so proud of Kevin. My God, he has such grace in how he handled that. You can really see his father in him."

The videos which accompanied the event were so well done, it just could not have been better...or so I thought until they rocked the house between periods with this (refresh this post if you want to watch it more than once):

"Three is a Magic Number!!!" I started singing my heart out and dancing in my chair. "You know this song?"

"No."

"Schoolhouse Rock!  I must have been...oh, maybe you were in the hospital then. It was probably around the same time. I don't think I've heard it since then." You could hear the crowd singing along with Blind Melon, filling the stadium. 

The game was great, hard fought on both sides with the Bruins pulling it out in a shoot out. Even though I have watched all but one of the televised games this year, it reminded me just how fun hockey is in person.

"You really ARE a hockey girl. My goodness, you are so intense. It's so cute." Michael started laughing.

"Bet you I dream about skating tonight. Poor Luigi (our cat). When we watch at home he keeps thinking he's in trouble because every time he settles in to nap when we are watching something happens and we start yelling."

But you didn't think we could go an entire night and not get into some kind of trouble, did you?

"Hey, let's go see if they'll let us in Rocky's room." We headed to the Sonja Henie Room. Wally, the gatekeeper, met us.

"I heard them talking about you on the radio this morning!'

Chef Hans, executive Chef at Chicago's Smith & Wollensky restaurant was on the Steve Dahl show sharing his favorite Keith Magnuson story. (Go to minute 24 in the podcast. It's very cute and heart warming). I had the pleasure of meeting Chef that night and hearing the story for myself. He's a real sweetheart and clearly loves Michael tremendously.

We were let into the room, packed with people who could buy and sell me in a heartbeat. We got his chair to a safe corner and while we were sipping our wine Michael spotted a plastic container on a table.

"Hey, pastries. Go get us one."

"Those aren't pastries. They are French Fries and something in foil with Sweet Baby Ray's on it. When did you say you needed your eyes checked?"

"About a year and a half ago, Sarah." (He won't let up with the Sarah Palin references since I got my specs.)

Ten minutes go by...maybe 15, and on three alternating tables, including the one we were sitting at, sat seemingly identical containers all remaining sealed and untouched.

"You know, they put food around for people just to have. How about giving me some of those french fries?"

I opened the container, popped some fries in his mouth and in a flash a man in a suit appears.

"Is this your dinner?"

"No, he said it was community food."

"Actually, it's mine."

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"No problem." He shoots a glance at the quadriplegic man with the fries hanging from his mouth and decides not to make an issue of it as he reseals his container and whisks it away.

"I cannot believe you made me steal someone's food! Do you just think up s%$# to get me in trouble?!"

"No! I really didn't know."

Disgusted I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to be arrested one day. I just know it."

Scott just shook his head when I told him the story. "What's next? Going to random funerals for the food after?"

I hope not. I can't promise anything though. Don't give him any ideas.

Comments

[Peter]

What a wonderful story! (Except for the part about the french fries.) It must have been a bittersweet night for Michael, but one I'm sure neither of you will ever forget.

And hey, your poster signed by Rocky Wirtz and Stan Mikita may be worth something someday. It has "provenance" as they say on Antiques Roadshow!

[Kean]

Oh my goodness! I can't beleive I saw you two there at the game! My goodness, the ceremoney abesolutely amazed me as my dad told me the old days of Pilote and Magnuson.

[Laura]

Hey P! You know, you may be right. It IS a one of a kind poster. It's priceless.
Kean! No way! Now you have to tell me who you are and how you found my blog! When did you see us? Sitting by us or watching us steal french fries or where? Small world!! Did you see Michael's Don't Blame the Game video with Maggie being interviewed in it? Your dad might really like to see it. If you search don't blame the game at youtube it will come right up.