I’m not one to doubt miracles happen. I mean, I’m dating a soon-to-be surgeon who is way prettier and smarter than me, so miracles clearly occur to people all the fucking time.
However, I’m a little skeptical about this claim from a woman who says that, after trying to get preggo for years and had “probably given up,” actually believes that, when she kissed the Stanley Cup 20 years ago, it led to her getting that baby she always dreamed of.
Like, I honestly cannot fucking believe what I’m hearing.
The abbreviated story goes like this: The Colorado Avalanche win the Stanley Cup title in 1996, a player from that team, Mike Ricci, throws a celebratory party at some cottage on the day he has the Cup, Cheryl Riley—the lady who couldn’t get pregnant—kisses Lord Stanley’s Cup, and a few weeks later, started feeling funny, ultimately finding out that she had a bun in her oven.
“It was Aug. 1,” said Cheryl, in her early 40s in the summer of 1996. “Mike [Ricci] brought the Cup up here and on Labor Day weekend we were playing some volleyball on the beach, and I realized that my fingers and ankles were getting sore. Then I discovered that I didn’t like the taste of some of the foods I had been eating, and I realized these were things women complain about it when they are pregnant.”
“We knew it was that night, we knew it was the day I kissed the Stanley Cup,” Cheryl said.
When the kid was finally born, of course, the Riley’s made sure they kept their belief in the Stanley Cup kiss being real, naming the kid Stanley.
Do miracles happen? Sure. But I’m more convinced that the Riley’s could have just downed a couple bottles of wine, banged it out to get the same result and named the kid Merlot after drinking miracle wine.