I’m not a big ice hockey fan — I don’t know a check from a puck — but I know jubilation when I see it. And jubilation is the story here in Washington, D.C., as the Capitals advance to the Stanley Cup finals for the first time in 20 years.

I found out from a text from Claire, my hockey-loving daughter, who used about half a dozen exclamation points at the end of her message.

It’s that kind of joy. As Washington Post sports columnist Dan Steinberg wrote,  D.C. reacted “about how you’d expect a city might react, if that city had been waiting for 7,000 or so days for a team to get to this particular spot, and if that city had seen this particular team come up short in this particular round against this particular opponent every particular spring.  There was relief. There was delirium. There was exaltation.”

It’s one of those wins that feels like more than what it really is, that feels like payback for living in a “swamp” where troubling political news combines with troubling Metro news (including the closure of four stations for 98 days next year) combines with killer traffic for a uniquely D.C. type of misery.

But today is different. It’s May. The azaleas are bursting with jewel-tone blossoms. Pollen is on the run. The Caps may not make it all the way. But right now it’s more than enough that they made it here.

(Photo: Washington Capitals)