Grand Theft "Lucky Blackhawks Sweatshirt"

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Image Credit: Chicago Blackhawks from Vector.me

My husband and I just returned from a trip to the Maritime provinces of Canada. I came home with a suitcase just a tad lighter. While packing, the weather forecast had called for cooler temperatures and rain, so naturally the first item in my suitcase was my lucky, black, Blackhawks sweatshirt. It had pockets and a hood, just what I needed to stay warm in the northern Atlantic, nippy fall climate.

Plus, entering hockey country, in the midst of the World Cup, I would be stylish and fit in perfectly with those crazed Canadians.

Or so I thought.

The weather was lovely so no warm clothes were necessary for the first few days.

On the fourth day, the weather changed to cold and damp so I scrambled through my suitcase for my lucky sweatshirt. It was missing. Gone. Disappeared into thin air.

Packed in the very bottom of my suitcase, someone had to dig deep beyond the down vest, sweaters, jeans and rain gear to find it.

Who did this?

Baggage handlers at O'Hare International Airport?  TSA employees scanning my checked bag? The housekeeping staff at our hotel in Halifax? The General Manager at our hotel in Halifax? Justin Trudeau, the Prime Minister of Canada?  Andrew Shaw, pining for his former team? Could Queen Elizabeth be a closeted hockey fan who ransacked my luggage and stuffed this prize into her yellow purse?

I agree. That would be a long shot.

Certainly not a Montreal Habs fan. They wouldn't be caught dead in a Blackhawks sweatshirt.

The Blackhawks logo is, hands down, the coolest design in all of professional sports, so I can't really blame them for taking it.

Maybe Blackhawks clothing is illegal in Nova Scotia and my lucky sweatshirt has become contraband with a street price of $550 Canadian dollars. No amount of loonies could pay for one of these priceless garments.

But this was my lucky sweatshirt! Why didn't this scalawag just pilfer my Kindle, passport, family jewels or navy blue sweater for God's sake?

The Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup in 2013 and again in 2015 partly because of my lucky sweatshirt. It wasn't responsible for the Stanley Cup win in 2010 because it hadn't been manufactured just yet. That particular Cup win was all about the lucky Blackhawks flag we proudly hang at the front door, of course.

My husband thought I had lost my mind, never packed it and it was still hanging safely in the closet back home. NO, good try. It wasn't.

Right now, some miscreant is out there strutting around like a peacock, proudly showing off my lucky Blackhawks sweatshirt on the streets of Nova Scotia. Or a TSA agent in Chicago is secretly wearing it under his uniform at O'Hare International Airport with a smug grin on his guilty face.

Do you mean to tell me your favored son, Sidney Crosby, wasn't enough for you bringing the Stanely Cup to his home province this summer wearing his Penguins sweater? You just had to have a piece of the Blackhawks by taking my beloved sweatshirt?

Or when my suitcase was humming along on the conveyor belt to be scanned for weapons under the scrutiny of our fine TSA agents, you figured that scatterbrained lady would never miss this jaunty article of clothing. Wrong. So very wrong.

Now I have to beat the streets to find a new lucky totem to help "My Guys" before the preseason starts. My superstitions run deep.

Damn.

I consider this theft a felony.

If you venture up to Canada and see some cocky thief wearing my lucky Blackhawks sweatshirt, please tell that slimy scoundrel to wear it proudly and stand (never sit) to the right of the television during all of the playoff games starting in Spring 2017. Perhaps the "karma" will stay with the sweatshirt no matter who is wearing it, and bring "My Guys" another Stanley Cup win to the city of Chicago.

Now that would be justice served.

And if it was an employee at O'Hare International Airport, shame on you. Blackhawks clothing is even available at Jewel and Walgreens you cheap, sorry son-of-a-bitch.

Meanwhile, I am going to sit back in the penalty box for unsportsmanlike conduct, overeat mounds of poutine and drink strong Tim Hortons coffee to drown my sorrows.

Let's Go Hawks!

 

 

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