Vindication.

A lot of you probably figured this was coming. I knew when (if) the Hawks closed out the cup finals that I would probably post some type of sentimental twaddle about how much this meant to me.

Turns out, this means more to me than I realized.

When Kane's 5-hole shot found it's way underneath the pads of Mike Leighton, I was stunned. To the point that for the first time in my life I was speechless. All of a sudden, 30 years of being a Hawks fan came crashing over me in waves. I've always been a Hawks fan. Ever since I can remember, the likes of Roenick, Chelios, Smith, Larmer, Murray, Grimson, Manson and the like have been the focal point of my sports life. When the Hawks were swept by Super Mario and the Pens, I was crushed. It's one of the few times I remember seeing my Dad sad. I had a very hard time taking that.

I've poured my heart into other teams. I've lived and died with the White Sox. I've put it all out there for the 49ers. Only one team have I ever pushed my soul towards. The Hawks, after 30 years of my life, have finally paid me back. I remember being up at the University of North Dakota drinking one night (which happened to be draft night), when I found out that the Hawks had taken Jonathan Toews with the 3rd pick in the draft. I called everyone that I knew. So very few people even gave a shit for me to get a few words out. But in my heart, I knew. It was finally happening. It was turning around, and I was going to be a part of it. 4 Years ago, I bought a 15-game plan when nobody gave a shit about the Hawks. I really couldn't blame them. The Hawks had been to the playoffs 1 time since I'd graduated high school. But I knew. Then came the lucky ping pong ball. Hawks had a 1.9% chance of getting the #1 overall pick. And it happened. So I went to the UC for the Draft Day party. There were maybe 1,000 of us. 1,000 of us that could feel the momentum shift. That night we took Patrick Kane with the #1 pick in the draft. And the feeling got deeper.

I traded my 15 game pack for a full-season ticket package. 2 seats, section 329, row 12, seats 7 and 8. I'd always promised myself that someday I would own season tickets to the Hawks, for me and my dad. Now I'd fulfilled that dream, and the Hawks kept getting better. Dollar Bill Wirtz died. Rocky took over. And the momentum kept rolling. Names like Bolland, Byfuglien, and Brouwer began to show their presence. The Hawks just missed the playoffs by a few points. I renewed my season ticket package. Marty Havlat made me believe. Johnny Toews made me believe. Kane, Seabrook, and Keith made me believe. Then we were in the Western Conference Finals against the hated Detroit Red Wings.

We lost.

Despite the setback, I told myself that nothing but good could come from the loss. Lessons were learned. Hossas were signed. Then we were right back where we were. Instead of the Wings, it was our new rival, the Sharks. A team that had dominated us for the previous 5 years. 4 games later, and the Hawks were playing for the cup.

You all know how it ended. You saw Kaner's goal. What you didn't see was my soul. My soul being set free. My years of depression watching other teams succeed while the Hawks floundered. The years sitting in a 1/3rd full United Center, looking up at the banners thinking "someday". Well, today is that day. All the effort, joy and sorrow I've put into being a fan. All the game to game emotion I've felt. The effort I've put into getting people to like hockey again when it seemed as if there was no point. All that has been repaid tenfold. All that was repaid when Jonathan Toews picked up the greatest trophy in all of sports, and skated directly over to his team. All that was repaid when Jeremy Roenick, my favorite Hawk of all time, broke down into tears on NBC saying how proud he was. All that was repaid when I saw the look on my dad's face, who had suffered longer than I.

All that was paid back, with interest. All that and more, when I watched a 22-year old kid pick up a trophy, and with that, my soul.

One Goal.