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Less than two weeks later.
Every player on the team gets a day with the Cup – it's one of hockey's proudest traditions. We all draw straws to figure out who gets the Cup. Once it's your day, you've got 24 hours to do whatever the heck you want with the Cup.
Phil Bourque once threw the Cup in Mario Lemieux's pool to see if it'd float or sink. (It sank, and it sank pretty quickly apparently – and a big ol' dent had to be repaired afterward.)
Ed Olczyk fed a Kentucky Derby Champion horse out of the Cup.
Kris Draper's infant daughter, placed inside the chalice, actually pooped in the Cup. (Sorry for the gross image. Believe me, I had to will myself not to think of that one when I was sipping champagne out of it during the dressing room party ... blargh.)
I drew my turn with the Cup before Tyler got his. So what was I gonna do with it?
I opted for something quiet and not so dramatic. I took it back home to Toronto. Tyler came with me. He met Grams, and she met the Cup. Ever see an 80 year old woman kiss the Cup? It's adorable, I tell ya.
Then I took it to the outdoor rink where I grew up playing. Since it's summer, rollerblades take the place of ice skates. All the local kids came out to play a game and get a chance to see the Cup in person. Tyler and I played with 'em. It was a blast.
But none of the kids wanted to touch the Cup – 'cause that's considered a curse. If you touch the Cup you'll never win it, the legend goes. So the kids got as close as they could to it but they didn't dare touch.
It was a pretty cool moment to be a part of, with all those kids looking up at me and Tyler. We told 'em they could be whatever they wanted to be, as long as they worked hard and wanted it. And we told them not to be discouraged by what other people have to say about you – don't let other people define you who are. Who knows? Maybe someday one of those kids will return to that park carrying the Cup him or herself. I hope so.
Later, after we were wrapped up with the kids, me and Tyler headed out with the Cup to Toronto Harbour. We rented a sailboat and took it out into the bay and looked over the city skyline, which was lit bright orange by the setting Sun.
“Ever think you'd be looking at the CN Tower in a sailboat, with your arm around the Cup?” Tyler asks me.
My finger traces over all the imprint of the names on the Cup, stamped into the bands of silver. It's hard to believe my name is there, among all these legends.
“Hell no!” I laugh. My forearm is around his neck, and I pull him closer. “And I definitely didn't think I'd be here with my arm around you, either.”
He gets a familiar look in his eyes – one I've since learned means that he's up to no good.
“Uh oh ... what is it, Ty?”
His smoldering eyes narrow. “I guess you probably never thought this would happen, either.”
He slides out of his seat and slithers between my legs.
“Dude!” I laugh, checking nervously to see if any boats are nearby. It's clear – for now. “Someone might see us.”
“Nobody's gonna see us.” He grins and pulls at my shorts. I let 'em go, lifting my butt off the seat so he can yank my shorts and boxers down.
I watch, my arm around the Cup, as he takes my half-hard cock into his mouth and sucks it, pulls it between his cheeks until it quickly lengthens and grows.
“Wow,” I sigh, one hand holding onto Tyler's hair as his head bobs up and down in my lap; my other arm is wrapped around the Stanley Cup. “This is awesome.”