World Cup, Stanley Cup, the world’s in its cups right now over cups. Fans are thirsty for members of their favorite teams to hoist a cup, kiss a cup, march with or skate with a cup. A teams spends an entire season, and in the case of soccer, a wait of four years, of competing, conditioning, traveling, eating crappy meals, sleeping in lumpy hotel beds, enduring injuries and unending scrutiny from fans and reporters…for a cup.
The World Cup makes no sense because the award for being best at a sport that forbids the use of hands features hands holding up the world. Yellow card!
The Grey Cup is awarded to the top Canadian Football League team. While it’s called the Grey CUP, the cup part is tiny compared to pedestal on which it sits that looks like a cross between an eggplant and a Dalek. No offense, eh?
Since I’m a lifelong hockey fan and pathetic player, the cup closest to me is the Stanley Cup, the National Hockey League’s top tchochke.
It’s been called the most coveted trophy in sports…by three guys sipping their triple-triples in a Tim Hortons. It’s not really a cup at all. It’s a big silver bowl sitting on top of metal bands inscribed with the names of the members of the teams who won Lord Stanley’s vessel.
Dare I commit hockey heresy in pointing out the Stanley Cup has a very close resemblance to the apparatus used to drain old, gunky oil from an automobile. Yet, no one hoists, hugs or kisses the Stanley Cup’s doppelganger.
Indeed, this alleged hallowed hunk of silver is abused more than prepositions in a high school English class. It’s been peed in, pooped in, licked, and who knows what else.
Personally, whenever I hear about the Stanley Cup, I only think of Stanley Perlman. He was a kid in my second grade class with braces, curly blond hair and black rimmed glasses. He whispered to me one day, “Eddie, if you look in your father’s night stand you’ll find Playboy magazines.” I looked. I scored! Yes! At no time, however, did I hug, kiss, lick or pee on Stanley Perlman. However, he did move away shortly after that. But all these years, and centerfolds later, I lift my cup to Stanley….Perlman.