Page 9 of Power Play Pursuit

“Not that she would have accepted his offer,” Beaumont adds, and I try to kick him in the crotch, but the idiot has good reflexes.

I sit back and sulk, though they’re not entirely wrong. I’m still planning to ask Elizabeth, just in case, but I doubt that’ll be a winning move.

“Well, good for Beth,” Hawthorne says, playing with his mouth guard. “Plus, now she can be a real Raptors fan.”

“All right, gentlemen,” Coach Martin says, marching into the room. Everyone falls silent and takes their seat. “First game of the season. We’ve got to dictate the pace tonight. Play as fast as you can. Be crisp with the puck, and win all your one-on-one battles. You’ve got this. Let’s rock and roll!”

Everyone cheers and claps as Coach hands me a printed list. As the team’s official entertainer, I’ve taken on the job of announcing the starting lineup.

I walk to the center of the room and peer at my teammates. “Rrrraaaptors! Let’s get this show on the road. In the front we have Max ‘The Hair’ Beaumont!” I point at him, and everyone cheers. He bows, showing off his perfect curly hair that got him that nickname. “We also have our fearless leader, Captain Caleb Hawthorne!”

More whoops and hollers erupt around the room.

“And the best left winger in the league . . . Yours truly!” I add, giving them a twirl and making everyone laugh. “Defending James Norris trophy winner, Aaron Miles, will be in the back,” I continue, pointing at Miles, who waves at the guys.

“And the toughest defenseman in the NHL, David Johnson!”

He stands up and pumps his fist under the rain of cheers.

“And defending our Raptors cage, the one, the only, the great Noah ‘Wally’ Wilcott!” I announce, pointing to our goalie. Being the grump that he is, he barely acknowledges my introduction.

“Come on, Wally,” I tease. “I know you want to smile.” I walk up to him and start boxing him for fun, but he’s not having it.

Well, at least everyone else is laughing and pumped up, which means my first job of the night was a success.

“Let’s go, guys!” I call out, clasping my hands together before walking back to my stall to grab my helmet. Everyone slaps my back or shakes my hand as I pass them, and minutes later, we’re in the tunnel, ready to get this game started.

The music is blasting, and the crowd’s cheers crescendo to a roar. I hop on my skates, excited to be back on the ice.

Tonight’s the home opener, which means a pregame ceremony will mark the unveiling of our Stanley Cup championship banner. The deep voice of the PA announcer cuts through the roaring of the crowd as he presents tonight’s game. A video plays of last season’s highlights, and even though we can’t see it from where we’re standing, we can hear the audio mixed with the crowd’s booming cheers. Emotion and adrenaline surge through me as I recall that magical moment when the announcer spoke those eight words: “The New York Raptors won the Stanley Cup!” It was a few months ago now, but I still get chills when I think about it.

The rest of the guys feel the same. I can tell from the elated smiles on their faces, the gleam in their eyes, or the way they clap their hands with fervor.

That moment bonded us forever. Miles slaps my back, and I bump my shoulder with his.

Finally, the announcer calls us on the ice, and I stride forward. I always lead the way. I love stepping on the ice first and hearing the roar of the crowd multiply. Tonight is particularly wild, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a fantastic crowd before as we skate onto the ice. Spotlights are roaming around the rink, and fans are cheering at the top of their lungs. We thought we had a warm welcome when we started our warm-ups, but this is ten times more insane. I skate around, waving my stick at the fans, soaking in their energy, their smiles, the love they’re giving us.

We drop our sticks and helmets on the bench before gathering at center ice as the announcer says, “And now, please welcome the Stanley Cup.”

The cup itself gets an even crazier welcome from the fans.

“Carried by Team Captain, Caleb Hawthorne!”

Hawthorne steps on the ice, holding the large cup and showing it off to the crowd. He places it on a table next to a trunk containing our banner before skating toward us.

The trunk opens, and the banner unveils, being lifted to the ceiling. The crowd claps and cheers while we stand arm in arm, watching it with pride—smiling as we reminisce on our past accomplishments, but also dreaming of recreating those memories.

We take one last group picture with the cup before doing some free skating around the rink, applauding our fans and thanking them for their support. I even blow a few kisses to the crowd, making people laugh.

The Carolina Kings enter next, and our fans quiet down as we grab our helmets and sticks. It’s time to get our heads back in the game.

Beth Bowen

Going to a hockey game after ending a complicated relationship with a hockey player doesn’t seem like the best idea on paper, but in reality, it’s exactly what I needed. Even if I was never a huge fan of the sport—or any sport, for that matter—one thing is undeniable when it comes to hockey. It’s one heck of a show.

That’s especially true tonight, with the pre-game banner-unveiling ceremony and one last look at the Stanley Cup. All our friends are here to support the Raptors tonight: Marissa, of course, in her full Raptors gear as she sports Aaron’s number, but also the No Shelf Control girls from across the street. There’s Hayley, who’s engaged to Maxime Beaumont, plus Maxime’s sister, Alice, and her boyfriend, Deacon. He doesn’t make it to the games often, but now that he’s hired someone to help him manage the bar, we might see him more. His niece, Lola, is here too with one of her friends from school. Finally, we have Emma and her fiancé, Auston Buckley, the famous movie—now theatre—star. During season games, it’s usually only Marissa, Hayley, and me, so it’s great to have the entire gang here.

The banner-unveiling ceremony was more emotional than I’d anticipated. Watching the guys standing arm in arm like that gave me chills. It’s crazy how many emotions a simple sport can conjure up.

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