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Blackhawks haircuts, black and red cupcakes and newborn birds bearing the names of players -- The fandamonium continues to grow.
If you say the team is blessed, a Calumet City priest would agree. He wears the Blackhawks' logo and preaches the gospel of teamwork.
Then there's the 54-year-old Chicago money manager for a Wall Street firm who's defying his white collar working world to shave the team logo into his receding hair. He even had to leave his regular barber shop to find one that could do it.
Hector's Barber Shop, at 2547 West Fullerton Avenue, doesn't see a lot of Senior Vice-Presidents with six figure incomes walking through the door. But its resident artist, Angel Lobaton, created a pièce de résistance.
Bruce Marcus is a little shy about showing it off at work. His son may not speak to him for a few days either. But he's among a growing collection of Blackhawks diehards who, like Cubs fans, have had a long time to cook up exactly how they would show their love during the big dance or skate.
But when a team goes this far, this well, with so much adulation for its young players, new fans are created, and they're doing their own version of cartwheels.
The building residents at 1130 S. Michigan have three-week-old peregrine falcons nesting on their roof. Ever since they were born, the Hawks have been steamrolling toward the Stanley Cup. Now the Peregrine Society will allow the birds to be named after star players.
Residents who never before tuned in to a game can't miss them. The roster is being memorized. Niemi is a lock for one of the names. Buff for another. Or Buffy if it's a girl.
Mari Luangrath, owner of Foiled Cupcakes, is now marketing online the Stanley Cup cupcake -- red velvet, cream cheese and a black "quippie" on top. It's a little saying germane to the team and those who love them.
"We like big Buffs and we cannot lie" says one.
She was born and raised where the San Jose Sharks play the game. But she didn't care for hockey then. It does seem out of place there.
But when Luangrath's husband was transferred to the Chicago suburbs, she became a hockey convert. That's easy to do; especially these days.
For her, it came after selling her scrapbooking and homestaging businesses and delivering an order of custom cupcakes to the Blackhawks "Captain Serious." That's how it happens. Suddenly you're caught up in the Madison madhouse madness.
Don't fault them for not being lifers. Welcome their wise choice.
Eat a cupcake.
Shave your head.