Page 64 of My Lucky Charm

“You good?” Burke’s question pulls me back to the present. I’m guessing he’s got thoughts on the second period.

I nod.

“We’re only down by one,” he says.

I turn to him, confident. “Not for long.”

I stand up, grab my gloves, and as I make my way back out to the ice, I try to summon the younger version of myself. The player who loved the way the stick, the puck, the speed, and the art of this game made him feel.

Do it because you love it.

Her words. I feel a shift inside of me. Like a light coming on.

In this moment, for the first time since the trade, I embrace the idea that I’m a Chicago Comet. I find the section where I spotted Eloise at the beginning of the game. My eyes scan the other women, and then settle on her.

She’s wearing a Comets hoodie and jeans with a black stocking cap, and even from here, I can feel the moment our eyes connect again, just like before the game. She’s like a touchstone, a harbor in a storm, a safe place to land.

And she is the reason my focus shifts.

Do it because you love it.

Her words weave through my head, the exact reminder I need. The thing that shifts my gameplay.

And boy, does it shift. Three goals in the period, two by me. On a breakaway I checked their guy so hard he fell down, then I sauced an absolutely filthy pass to Burke to score. As I skated back around to the guy on the ground, lamp lit, horn blaring, crowd in a frenzy, I shouted, “See you on ESPN tonight, buddy.” Burke points at me, shouting “Let’s GO!” and I point back.

Man, it feels good.

4-2, Comets. And I’m not even close to done.

I really hate the mid-game interviews. Second intermission, a reporter snags me, asking one single question.

“Gray, you’re on fire out there. Something changed in your game after that first period. Did Coach Turnrose give an especially motivational speech or was it something else?”

I hate these questions, and I’m ready to give just a stock “we’re just trying to get the puck in the net” answer, when I can feel Eloise’s words in my head.

Not my dad. Her.

I look at the microphone, then at the reporter, then at the camera pointed at me. “Just decided to play for the love of the game.” I stare one more moment into the camera, give the reporter a nod, and walk off down the tunnel.

We add three more goals in the third period and win 7-2. I end up with a hat trick and three assists.

And after the first period, I loved every second of it.

Post-game, there’s a press conference. Eloise doesn’t approach me, but I do see her chatting up a few of the reporters. They’re probably her best friends by now. I have no idea what she said to any of them until they start asking questions. They start with gameplay. The way I gelled with Burke and the rest of the team.

The tone of the media has changed. Winning does that.

“Did the extra practices help?”

“Do you feel like you’re finding your footing here?”

“How does it feel to be the one responsible for the win here in Chicago?”

But then, a man standing a few feet away from Eloise raises his hand, and Burke nods in his direction.

I keep my eyes steady on him and not on the beautiful blonde standing off to the side.

“Gray, we’re told that it was important to you to have your theme song play as you took the ice tonight. Tell us, do you feel that you really did bring sexy back?”

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