Page 16 of Off the Ice

The reporter’s eyebrows shot up. “Special? Care to elaborate?”

“Let’s just say she keeps me on my toes,” I said, my tone playful but vague. I didn’t miss the way Ava’s lips twitched, like she was fighting back a laugh—or a grimace. Probably both.

The questions shifted to the game, which gave me a chance to focus on stats and plays instead of the strange thrill of seeing Ava in my jersey. When the press conference finally wrapped up, I headed straight for her.

“Well?” I asked, tilting my head as I approached. “How’d I do?”

“You mean on the ice, or in your little performance for the cameras?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Both,” I said, grinning. “Come on, give me a grade.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “You’re lucky I didn’t throw a tomato at you when you called me ‘special.’”

“Special is a compliment, Carlisle.”

“Not the way you said it.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, looking toward the exit. “So, what’s next on ‘Operation Woo’?”

I laughed, falling into step beside her. “You’ll find out soon enough. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

She groaned, but there was no real irritation in it. If anything, she seemed... relaxed. Comfortable. And for a moment, I let myself enjoy the fact that this crazy plan of mine might actually be working.

Eleven

Ice, Sweat, and Swagger: Logan Bennett and the Hellblades’ Electrifying Win

By Ava Carlisle – December 12, 2016

Sittingglass-sideatlastnight’s Hellblades game was an experience that can only be described as electrifying. From the heart-pounding action on the ice to the deafening roar of the crowd, it was a reminder of why hockey holds such a unique place in Chicago’s sports culture. The Hellblades took on the Carolina Cats, a team known for their aggressive forechecking and relentless pursuit of the puck. But despite the pressure, the Hellblades showcased not just their skill but their chemistry, a testament to what can happen when a team truly works as a unit.

And no one embodied that chemistry more than Logan Bennett.

The Hellblades’ star forward played with the kind of focus that’s earned him a reputation as one of the league’s most formidable players. Known for his effortless swagger and raw talent, Bennett was a force in all three zones, threading impossible passes and setting up the game-winning assist in a moment of pure instinct and precision. His ability to read the ice, to anticipate plays before they happened, was on full display—and nowhere was that more evident than in the final minute of the game.

With the score locked at 2-2 and just forty-five seconds remaining on the clock, the Hellblades pressed into Carolina’s zone. Jaymie Prescott carried the puck up the wing, but with a defenseman closing in, he sent a quick drop pass back to Darren Rivers, who pivoted and found Bennett at the blue line. The Cats’ defense collapsed in on him immediately, forcing him to make a split-second decision.

Bennett didn’t panic.

With a quick deke, he faked a shot, forcing Carolina’s goalie to lunge just enough to leave the net exposed. That was all he needed. Instead of taking the shot himself, he sent a clean, no-look pass to Prescott, who was waiting at the back post. Prescott didn’t hesitate—his one-timer rang off the inside of the post and into the back of the net before the goalie even had time to react.

The entire arena erupted.

“Hell of a pass, Bennett!” Prescott shouted as he was mobbed by his teammates. The scoreboard flashed 3-2, Hellblades. The bench emptied onto the ice, gloves flew in the air, and the energy inside the United Center was nothing short of electric.

But it wasn’t just that final, highlight-reel moment that stood out. Sitting so close to the ice, you notice the things the cameras don’t always catch—the quick glances between players, the near-telepathic understanding of where a teammate will be, the way they communicate through taps of the stick or a subtle shift in positioning. It was clear that the Hellblades weren’t just a collection of skilled athletes; they were a team in every sense of the word.

Bennett, Rivers, and Prescott were a perfect example of that. The way they moved together on the ice, anticipating each other’s plays without hesitation, spoke to the kind of trust and chemistry that takes seasons to build. Rivers, with his sharp defensive instincts, was the anchor, keeping the play alive and feeding his teammates opportunities. Prescott, always quick on his skates, knew exactly where to be when Bennett made his move. And Bennett? He was the orchestrator, the kind of player who made everyone around him better.

Off the ice, Bennett’s reputation has been under scrutiny in recent weeks. His name has been making headlines for reasons that have nothing to do with hockey. But watching him play, it’s impossible to ignore the dedication and effort he brings to the game. Whatever challenges he’s facing off the ice, they don’t seem to shake his focus on it. His performance last night was proof of that.

As the final buzzer sounded and the Hellblades celebrated their hard-fought victory, the cheers inside the arena didn’t die down—they only grew louder, echoing long after the players left the ice. It was a reminder of what makes sports so magnetic—the thrill of the game, the unpredictability of each moment, and the unbreakable connection between a team and its fans.

For the Hellblades, it wasn’t just another win. It was a statement.

And for Logan Bennett, it was a step toward reminding Chicago why he’s the star this city can’t stop watching.

Ava

I barely had time to set my bag down before Amber, the receptionist, flagged me down. The newsroom was alive with its usual symphony of chaos—phones ringing, the clatter of keyboards as people pound out articles, and the hum of overlapping conversations.

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