My wife’s grandfather, William F. Sullivan, once told a newspaperman that one of his “fondest memories was ‘polishing the cup.’”
For the record, he’s referring to Lord Stanley’s Cup, the hockey championship trophy that the Carolina Hurricanes now have in Raleigh after vanquishing the Vegas Golden Knights on Sunday night after a six-game series, and was in the window of a drugstore in Sydney, Nova Scotia.
Most sports fans admit it’s the most difficult championship in professional sports to win. The season starts in October and just ended Sunday. You must win four rounds that could potentially go to seven games to be crowned champion. It’s just a tough, bruising, no-nonsense sport with a long, grueling season.
With the Stanley Cup in Raleigh, I wanted to filter through some family lore, and so we talked to Lori’s father last night. Sure as hell, there is a family connection to the Cup that goes back more than 100 years.
First, more recent hockey and family history. The hockey bug came to me later than most. When I started spending all the time I could around Lori, that also led to watching hockey games with Bill. He’s from Detroit and so grew up a Red Wings fan, and he’s one of those men who can recite starting line-ups of his favorite teams from decades ago. Eventually Bill bought multi-game ticket packages and started inviting me to attend. When my son, Liam, was old enough, he would come along. Of note, Bill and his son, Jim, were in the stands when Carolina won its first Stanley Cup in 2006.
Now, my son and I are hockey fanatics along with Bill and other family members, more specifically Hurricanes fanatics. This season I probably watched 50 or more games in my living room, and for some reason Lori hasn’t dumped me. I think it has to do with her father being the one who got me hooked.
Bill’s father was from Nova Scotia in Canada. Eventually he moved to the U.S. and ran a drugstore in Detroit, but according to a 1974 article in the Cape Breton Post, in 1913 he worked at Don Buckley’s drugstore in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Prior to the creation of the NHL, the cup would go to the winner of a challenge game. The Sydney Millionaires challenged the Quebec Bulldogs, who held the cup from 1911-1913.
Which means during that challenge series, the cup would have traveled to Sydney. William F. Sullivan told the reporter that his claim to have polished the trophy and displayed it in the window of the drugstore “has been questioned several times, especially while attending games around Detroit.” But, the reporter declared, “Mr. Sullivan’s claim is absolutely right…”
In our conversation with Lori’s father this week, he recalled as young boy being with his dad when Red Wings fans would question the validity of his story. As it turns out, it’s all true.
How cool is that?
It’s a tradition for the winners of the Stanley Cup to take the trophy to different places. When the Hurricanes arrived back in Raleigh on Monday, they took it to a bar on Glenwood Avenue where fans could help them celebrate. Maybe someone from the Hurricanes will bring it to Waynesville and let Loretta Sullivan McLeod — the granddaughter of Mr. William F. Sullivan — work some of her polishing magic on Lord Stanley’s Cup. A third-generation cleansing might be just what it needs.
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Count me among those who can sink into a chair at a dimly lit coffee shop and turn it into a creative refuge. The chairs and tables, to my liking, are usually old and mismatched, the ever-present aroma of the fresh coffee is reassuring to my olfactory senses and the ancient-looking burlap bags of unroasted beans adds an unmistakable ambiance.
And in a day when customer service seems to have disappeared, I appreciate baristas who look you in the eye when talking, who don’t act rushed, who seem to care that you get exactly what you want. The line may get long, which to some is annoying, but when I get the sense that the business appreciates my purchase that is often just $1 for a refill, it is much appreciated.
There are many of these shops in Western North Carolina, and right now I’m sitting at a back table at Smoky Mountain Roasters in Hazelwood. It opens at 7 a.m., and I wanted to get some place early to finish off some editing and writing for this week’s edition. These baristas are greeting customers by name, making conversation, and the vibe is good.
And before I knew it, this column was finished. Tomorrow it might be Panacea that inspires me, but for the record, this coffee-loving journalist appreciates all you hard-working baristas.
(Scott McLeod is publisher and editor of SMN. info@smokymountainnews.com.)