Page 65 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

How do I talk about my biggest accomplishment, which also happens to be my biggest source of stress? I have spent my entire life chasing this dream, dedicating myself wholly to the sport. Now, standing at the pinnacle of my career, I realize that hockey has given me so much, but it has also taken so much in return. Relationships, moments, and opportunities—sacrifices made in the name of the game.

I think about Ziggy. Her name brings a rush of memories—her laughter, her passion, the way she looks at me with those piercing eyes that see right through my bravado. She was there through the highs and lows, supporting me in ways I didn't fully appreciate until now. I tried to convey my feelings for her through physicality, through the one language we both understood. But those elusive, weighty words I wanted to say, remained unsaid.

The voices of my co-hosts fade into the background, replaced by the memory of her smile and the sound of her laughter.

"Earth to Elliot. You there, bro?" Oren's voice cuts through my reverie, bringing me back to the present.

I blink, shaking off the haze of my thoughts. "Sorry, guys. Just got a bit lost there for a moment," I admit with a sheepish grin.

Bryce chuckles. "We get it, man. Winning the Stanley Cup must be overwhelming."

"Yeah, it's been a lot to process," I reply, trying to refocus on the conversation. But deep down, I don’t know where my mind needs to be.

"Alright, folks," Gordie begins, his voice smooth and confident. "Welcome back to another episode ofHit Behind the Netwhere we dive deep into the world of hockey. And today, we've got something monumental to discuss. Our very own Elliot St. Germain, alongside special guest Oren Samuels, and their team, the Red Wolves, have brought home the Stanley Cup!"

The room erupts in applause, and I can't help but smile. It is still surreal, hearing it out loud. Oren turns to me, a grin spreading across his face.

"Elliot, first thing’s first, what's it like touching the Cup?" Bryce asks, leaning in with genuine curiosity. “As a professional football player, I’ll never get the chance.”

I pause, the memory of that moment flooding back. "Honestly, it's surreal. There's a weight to it, not just physically, but emotionally. You feel the history, the sacrifices, the victories and losses that led to that moment. It's overwhelming in the best possible way."

Oren jumps in next, sharing his experience with the world. Once his story is over, his eyes twinkle mischievously. "And what did you drink out of the Cup other than champagne?"

I laugh, recalling the celebrations. "Oh man, nothing too crazy. Champagne was definitely the main event, maybe some beer. The guys were creating some questionable concoctions. I think someone even poured some soup into it at one point. You would know something about that, right, Oren?"

Oren clutches his chest in mock outrage, “Those secrets will go to the grave with me, buddy.”

The guys erupt into laughter, the shared joy of our victory reminding Gordie and Bryce about their past experiences. As the conversation continues, I feel a pang of longing for a life full of simplistic moments like these, even as I focus on the present.

"So," Bryce leans in, a serious look taking over his face. "How does it feel to finally say you are a Stanley Cup Winner?"

I take a deep breath. "Honestly, it's indescribable. It's everything we've worked for. It wasn’t easy. It was bloody, it was sweaty, and I’m pretty sure I cried a lot. It was all worth it, though—it all led to that moment on the ice. But, and I know this sounds crazy, it also feels like... like something is missing."

The guys exchange surprised glances. "Missing?" Gordie echoes. "You're going to have to elaborate on that, man."

I shrug, trying to find the right words. "Winning the Stanley Cup was always my ultimate goal, my dream. But when I finally had it, I realized that the journey, the people I met along the way, and the moments we shared were what truly mattered. The cup is a symbol, but the real victory is the experience and the relationships."

Bryce nods thoughtfully. "That's deep, Elliot. So, what's next for you?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "I'm definitely looking at the bigger picture. Hockey has given me so much, but there's more to life. I want to explore other passions, maybe spend more time with you guys on this podcast."

The guys all grin, clearly liking the sound of that. "We'd love to have you on board full-time," Gordie says. "Your insights are invaluable."

"Thanks, guys," I reply. "I just want to make sure I'm living a life that's fulfilling, both on and off the ice. The Stanley Cup is a huge part of my story, but it's not the whole story."

As we continue recording, diving deeper into the victory and its aftermath, I can't shake the feeling of excitement for what lies ahead. The future is uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I am okay with that. What do I want next? What am I really chasing?

The world hails us as heroes. Every media outlet wants a piece of me, not only as a player but as a new internet presence. Interviews and appearances line up as far as I can see. Yet, amid all the accolades and attention, my thoughts keep returning to what truly matters. I realize that I have gotten everything I needed from playing hockey. The fame, the success, the recognition—it’s all there. But what about the rest of my life?

I think about the podcast, the small venture that has unexpectedly become a significant part of my life. It started as an outlet, a way to connect with fans and share my thoughts. But it has grown into something more—a passion project that allows me to express myself beyond the confines of the rink. There is potential here, a future that I haven't fully explored.

But more than anything else, I think about Ziggy. The connection we had, the moments we shared, the love for her that I had developed during our time together. It will never go away. I don’t want it to. She was the constant in my life, the person who grounded me when everything else felt chaotic. I want morethan just fleeting moments with her. I want a future, a real shot at something meaningful.

As the day wears on, I make my decision. It’s time to redefine what my life looks like. The goals that I once had, the dreams centered around the Stanley Cup, are fulfilled and gone, replaced by something else. Victory, while monumental, highlighted the void that success couldn't fill. The time has come to pursue something beyond the ice. I need to find purpose and meaning outside of hockey, something that resonates with the man I have become. It is time to chase a new dream, one that truly encompasses who I am and who I want to be.

I spend the rest of the day making phone calls, making decisions, and rearranging my entire life. Each conversation and choice feels like a step toward something new, something necessary. It is a lot of change, but change is good, especially when it’s positive. The weight I have carried for so long begins to lift as the pieces start to fall into place. I don't need to know every detail of what’s coming next. I just need to trust that I’m moving in the right direction.

I take a break, typing out several texts to Ziggy, each one trying to capture what I want to tell her. I start with an explanation of the changes I am making, then shift to how much I miss her, how she is my everything and finally settle on asking her to meet me. But each time my finger hovers over the send button, I end up deleting the message. Nothing feels right. This isn't something I can convey through a screen. Ziggy deserves to hear it all in person, face to face when the time is right. Determined, I put my phone away, knowing that soon enough, I will tell her everything. What is life without having a partner to go through it with? This sentiment is perfectly clear to me now.

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