He took it, considered hoisting it, but that felt wrong. Chiasson handed it back, Crosby did a small pirouette for the crowd, and then the best moment of the day occurred: He insisted that each player, winner and loser, lift it and act as if he had earned it. And one by one guys named Mike and John Chiasson, Matt Foston, Andrew Newton, Corey Banfield, Nathan Welton, Jeff Kielbratowski and Scott Leverman did the unthinkable, lived the dream. They set off across a hard court on wheels, but for a few seconds it felt as though they were on the sharpest skates, on perfect ice, in front of a packed arena. They hoisted the Stanley Cup.
Crosby stood back, grinning. For a moment, for the first time in hours and maybe even months or years, he wasn't the center of attention or the vessel for so many hopes; he finally looked at ease. "This is exactly why you do it: to share it with people," Crosby says. "To share it with close friends." And so he knew, better than anyone it turns out, that even this day was hardly about him at all.
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