A career in hockey was a puzzle to solve.
And that’s what I fucking do.
These brain games help with focus. And now, all my focus goes to the ice.
I pull on my jersey, then grab my water bottle—the same one I bring to every game, covered in stickers of mountains with the words Surprise Them across the side. “All right, kids. Hitting the ice for warmups,” I say.
“Good plan, old man,” Max calls. “Let me know if you need your AARP card to play tonight.”
I flip him the bird and head out.
Look, I’m not saying the Penguin Maze warmed up my brain, but I am in the zone physicallyandmentally.
In the first period, when I’m not on the ice, I’m laser-focused on studying the Chicago defenders here in our rink and the way they try to snag the puck from our forwards.
When it’s time for a line change, I hop over the boards and attack, drowning out everything but the game.
The crowd noise? Gone.
The chirping from the opponents? Irrelevant.
Every thought outside of this second, this play, this chance? Nonexistent.
Falcon snags the puck on a rebound and flicks it my way.
I escort it down the ice, taking a shot on goal.
It’s nearly there, but their goalie lunges for it, snagging it just before it goes in.
Next time.
We’ll get it next time.
I don’t get stuck on what didn’t happen in one play. The past is already written. But the future? That’s still up for grabs.
When the shift ends, I hop over the boards, take a breath, and visualize what’s coming.
And in the third period, I’m fucking ready when Bryant jumps on the puck, racing down the ice. I’m right by his side, but a Chicago defender comes out of nowhere, stripping it from him.
Fuck that.
As the guy spins, clearly hunting for a teammate to pass to, I reach out my stick,thank you very much, and take it for myself.
I race back toward the net, calculating, waiting, reading the Chicago goalie.
He shifts right.
I send the puck left, straight to Bryant, who whips it past a sliver of an opening.
Perfect shot.
The lamp lights. The crowd roars. For a brief second, I let the sound filter in.
That’s another thing I’ve learned over time—how to block out the noise that doesn’t matter. And how to let in only the good stuff since the good stuff fuels you.
Otherwise known ashow to have a thick skin.
When the game ends with a W, I skate off the ice, grateful we’re starting the season with another win.
