Chicago Blackhawks
Blackhawks Wrap: When Hockey Really is Family
There’s an old saying that goes like this: “Man plans, God laughs.” My journey covering the Chicago Blackhawks certainly falls into that category. So does having three daughters. Both are examples of making me better than I ever could have imagined.
But that saying sums up everything that’s transpired from what I’ve watched on the ice this season–right down to moments that happened off of it. This week’s Blackhawks wrap–after a bit of a hiatus–will be on how family and brotherhood really can be the core of hockey.
Special moment personally today, as my brother (@NBrownChiHN) and I are covering a game together for the first time since Illinois State Basketball (Go You Redbirds!)
Truly special day for me, and I’ll never take a moment for granted.
That said, Go #Yotes 😆 pic.twitter.com/nxPmO4Jb67
— Patrick Brown (@pbrownhockey) March 10, 2024
Sunday’s game may have been just another one to watch for many, but for my brother and me, it held significance. We’ve been close since he came into this world–and as a huge Wheel of Fortune fan at the age of three, I was thrilled that my brother had the same first name as the host.
We moved to Illinois when I was seven and my three-and-a-half year old brother was really the only friend I had. I served as a “translator” for him at times–a speech impediment he worked hard both with teachers and our parents to overcome.
We were inseparable.
To our family, including our extended sides-we were known as simply “the boys.” Not Nate and Pat.
The boys.
My poor father who is not a sports fan was blessed with two boys consumed by it. The Michigan birthright seeped into the DNA and hockey was always an interest.
My parents worked hard but it was out of their price range for “the boys.” So my Godmother–God love her–bought us rollerblades when I was in sixth grade and he was in third. Our uncle chipped in with hockey sticks and a metal net–the one where the pipes rang when you hit the post. Just like the pros.
It’s also when we became inseparable from hockey.
We spent hours–days–weekends–whenever–teaching ourselves how to skate. The whole time we had the damn sticks in our hands, too. One of us would wipe out–the other would pick him up until the skating and stickhandling was second nature. For years, our driveway was a rink. We’d lug the recycling bins out and hoist them over our heads like they were the Cup–and have a pre-and-post game interview session–just like the pros. Playing the NHL series on the Sega Genesis, we were the commentators. I’d handle play-by-play–he’d provide the color. Then we’d switch it up.
Perhaps we were a bit crazy. But it was the dream. We watched every Stanley Cup celebration and presentation and wondered aloud what it would be like either playing in those games–or covering them.
Maybe, someday, “the boys” could be there.
Like Hockey and Life, Sometimes the Dream Takes Time
Life though, like hockey, is unpredictable. It took us as far away from sports writing as either one of us could have imagined. Bills needed to be paid and lives lived. Ten years ago, he moved to Arizona as he prepared to start a life with his then girlfriend–now his wife. I wondered how this path could happen. My family was beginning to grow and our whole lives had been about being close together, being within a stone’s throw of one another, and having our families around each other all the time.
But it just wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. It didn’t affect how close we were, texting daily. But six years ago, I figured my sports writing was done. I’d worked hard at it–but maybe with four kids under four (at the time) and struggling to devote time to it–the ship had sailed.
God laughed though. In the midst of the pandemic, with everything at a screeching halt, we both started writing again at one point trying to go it together–but it wasn’t meant to be.
We did some podcasts together and continued at it–and then he was hired by the Arizona Coyotes to be the team reporter. At one point while I was writing at Detroit Hockey Now, he offered up some advice I’ll never forget: “If you still want to do this, it’s not too late. But you’re going to need to do it in Chicago.”
Two months later, I was asked to launch Chicago Hockey Now. Which brings us to now.
None of this is possible without my parents moving us to Illinois. There’s no chance of it without him being in Arizona. The possibility of covering the NHL wasn’t there without us being separated by thousands of miles and covering teams we never–skating on that driveway–thought we would be covering.
The boys, it turned out, would finally see the dream begin to take hold in the same place where they first thought it up.
‘The Boys’, the Blackhawks, and Brotherhood
All of this was rolling around in my head as I watched Colin Blackwell record his first hat trick. To listen to his teammates extol their love of his accomplishment because of who he is and what he means to them–it made me think of my brother. Hockey is a family-and the camaraderie in the locker room is something that can’t be measured. In an era where we measure everything with advanced stats and numbers for everything, leadership, heart, and team chemistry simply cannot be quantified.
The chance to cover a game together, which I hope is the start of many more down the road, clinched a childhood dream. That moment, though, is never possible or appreciated without all of the things that preceded it.
The Blackhawks are in a rebuild, one that has been drowning in losses and a lot of wondering about the path. Why couldn’t they re-sign Patrick Kane so he could flank Connor Bedard on the wing? What if they didn’t trade away some of the other younger talent just a few years back? Could this all have been avoided and instead, it’s Kane taking victory laps in a Hawks jersey with Bedard likely celebrating behind?
I don’t know. But what I do know, that I can speak from with experience, is that sometimes those answers don’t make sense until much later on the journey. That things must take their organic course, and that sometimes the greatest surprises and triumphs occur when it’s least expected.
In my opinion, Blackwell is precisely what the Blackhawks need in the locker room–right now. He plays with passion, energy, and love for the game. His teammates love him for it and feed off of it. And when the Blackhawks begin their ascent back into contention, moments like Blackwell’s hat trick will resonate even more. It’ll be a moment, one of many, that brought them to what they hope ends with a Stanley Cup presentation.
I’m proud of my brother, especially knowing how hard he worked to get where he is. Beyond that, I know the blood, sweat, and tears it took. Perhaps, that’s what makes yesterday’s moment even sweeter. That despite the plans we thought would get us to the dream, it ended up happening in a much different fashion than expected.
But it still happened.
The Blackhawks are driving a path to Stanley Cup success again–it’s just a matter of how they’ll get there.
Maybe in some way, “the boys” will get to cover that one together, too.
CHN’s Top Five Must Read
- Hate it or Love It, Kyle Davidson has a sensible plan
- The Blackhawks sign Landon Slaggert to a two-year deal
- Colin Blackwell get a hat tick in the Blackhawks 7-4 win
- Connor Bedard dances and dazzles despite defeat in Washington
- It’s a lot of love for Blackwell from his Blackhawks teammates in Postgame Chatter
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