Final minute, they pull their goalie. I read a desperation pass, step into the lane, and suddenly have open ice with Kovy streaking up my side. The pass is automatic. He buries it in the empty net. 4-2.
When the horn sounds, my brain can't process it at first. Twelve years in the NHL. Twenty-five years of hockey. An entire lifetime leading to this moment.
We're Stanley Cup Champions.
I throw my gloves in the air, stick clattering to the ice as I'm engulfed by my teammates. We’re a pile of grown men screaming and crying and hugging. I drop to my knees, helmet torn off, vision blurring with tears but I'm smiling through it. Kovy hauls me up and hugs me.
"We did it!" he shouts, his face wet with tears of his own. "We fucking did it, Mackie!"
Through the chaos, I find the WAG box where everyone is hugging and high-fiving. Reese is holding Tyler on her hip and bouncing with pure joy. And next to them – surprising me – stands Jessica. I’ll be damned. Reese must have arranged it without me knowing.
My team. My son. My past. My future. All here in this incredible moment.
I raise my stick to them, a silent dedication, before Schmitty drags me back into the celebration on the ice. The Cup gleams at center ice, ready for me to lift it. But first, a moment with the boys as they swallow me in bear hugs—the culmination of everything I've worked for.
We did it. Champions. Together.
The Stanley Cup weighs thirty-four and a half pounds, but when Gary Bettman calls my name to hoist it, it feels weightless. "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain of your Stanley Cup Champion Chicago Blades... Logan McCoy!" I lift it above my head, my dream since I was a little boy coming true. I lower it to kiss it and thrust it back in the air.
I begin the traditional captain's lap, skating slowly around the perimeter of the ice, Cup held high above my head. I see faces contorted with joy, grown men crying openly and hugging. It feels like all of us will remember this night for the rest of their lives.
When I complete the circuit, I know exactly who gets it next. Kovy has been in the league sixteen years – four more than me – without ever touching this trophy. He's sacrificed more, waited longer, suffered greater disappointments. The look on his face when I place it in his hands is something I'll remember until the day I die—joy with a hint of relief.
"You earned this," I tell him, as he skates away for his own victory lap.
The ice quickly transforms from playing surface to celebration ground as families pour through the Zamboni gate – children in miniature jerseys, wives and girlfriends walking carefully on the ice, player’s parents wiping away tears of pride. I scan them, searching for the only faces that matter right now.
"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!"
Tyler's voice somehow cuts through. I turn to see him breaking away from Reese and running toward me. I drop to one knee, catching him as he launches himself into my arms.
"You did it!" he shouts, squeezing my neck with surprising strength. "You won the Cup! You're the best hockey player ever!"
I laugh, "We did it, buddy. The whole team."
"I saw you!" He pulls back, eyes wide with excitement. "I saw you pass to Kovy for the goal! I yelled so loud!"
Reese makes her way to us through the crowd and wraps us in a giant hug. “You did it! I knew it!” She laughs, grabs my face, and kisses me.
"Hey buddy," I say to Tyler, handing him to Sully, who is waiting for this. "Can you stay with Coach Sully for a minute? I need to talk to Reese."
I grab Reese’s hand and stare into her eyes. "Logan, I'm so proud of?—"
I’m drenched with sweat. I stink. I’m so happy. This is the best moment of my life. I can’t wait. I drop to one knee on the ice. Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise.
"Reese." I have to stop, start again. "Reese, I had this whole thing planned – after the game, with the ring, somewhere romantic. But I can't wait."
The crowd around us starts to notice, a circle of space forming as people realize what's happening. I barely register them, seeing only her face.
"You came into my life and watched me fail at trying to be three different men, a father, a captain, a boyfriend, all separately. Your love showed me how to be all those things at once." I squeeze her hands tightly. "You make us a family."
She’s looking down at me, wiping away some tears, her smile radiant.
"I don't have the ring right now – it's in my locker – but I have to ask you this on this ice, in this moment." I take a deep breath. "Reese Thompson, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, Tyler's bonus mom, my partner in everything for the rest of our lives?"
"Yes," she nods.
“Is that a yes?” I ask beaming.
