“You’ve worked hard for this, Lennon. Rely on it. Block out last year, block out the crowd, and do what you came here to do. What you worked this entire year for.”
Adrenaline surges in my veins with each word, with the smell of the ice beckoning me near, with the energy of my teammates around me.
This is the last hockey game I’ll ever play. The one I’ve sacrificed my blood, sweat, and tears for. I’m not going to take a single moment of it for granted.
The announcers begin their intros as the bass builds up and shakes the arena. It’s time.
And when I step out onto the ice to the flashing lights and screaming crowd, I feel the weight of his eyes on me. Somewhere deep in my gut, I know he’s here. I won’t be able to find him in the crowd, and even if I could, I won’t risk Coach Maver spotting him, too.
So I keep my head down, steady my breathing, and remember everything he taught me.
Because both of my coaches are right.
I can do this.
43
Luke
She’s magnificent. You wouldn’t know that just two days ago, she was taken off the ice on a stretcher. Every single move is purposeful, precise, and absolutely dominating.
There’s no panic when Jordyn takes a tripping penalty and Northwood goes on a power play in the second period. She gets them out of it, and by the time the third rolls around, she’s kept them at only one goal, while Charlotte and Austen have added two for the Huskies.
As the minutes tick down, the energy in the arena rises to a boiling level. But like she’s learned to do, Lennon seems to be completely unaware of the cheers and jabs being thrown her way. Her attention never wavers from the ice, not for a single second, and as much as I wish I was down behind the bench cheering her on, I’ll take being up the nosebleeds.
Nothing was going to stop me from being here today.
And as the final two minutes hit, I don’t think I breathe for a single moment of it as Northwood pulls their goalie for an extra skater.
They get a shot that gets past Maria, only inches from being deflected, and Lennon slaps it away with her stick. It’s rebounded on a backhand shot, but once again, Lennon knocks it away. Austen scoops it up and is able to clear it down the ice. It misses the empty net by mere feet, but it doesn’t matter. The clock has run down, and by the time Northwood reaches the other end of the ice for it, the buzzer sounds.
The entire Huskies team tosses their gloves in the air, sticks abandoned, as they scream in victory. The crowd around me erupts as blue and white confetti shoots from the ceiling. Music thumps through the arena, the beat reverberating in my chest.
I’m not sure if I cheer, if I scream my excitement, if I clap my hands.
Not as every part of me is honed in on watching her. Lennon drops to her knees, falling forward on the ice, mask coming to rest on it. She’s stolen from my sight as the team surrounds her, and when she emerges, her mask is abandoned, leaving an unobstructed view of her gratification.
Her body is jostled about by her team as they all celebrate as one, and I wish I could be down there with her but also with the rest of them. They earned this. After falling short last year, they came back with vengeance.
A carpet is rolled out onto the ice, and the president of the NCAA comes out to present the trophy. Alice and Jenna stand proudly at the girls’ side, and as one, they raise it in the air to the screams of the crowd.
Then one by one, each girl has their turn with it. As the captain, Aubrey takes it first. And once her lap is done, she hands it proudly over to Lennon.
I watch as she takes her turn hoisting the trophy in the air and gliding around the rink. Her smile beams all the way up to the nosebleeds, bathing everyone in the arena with her triumph.The camera zooms in on her face, magnified on the screens above, as two lines of tears fall down her face.
Tears of joy. Tears of relief.
The extra hours she put in the weight room, the rink, the hours of lost sleep and time with friends. It was all for this moment right here.
She once told me that this was the highest level she knew she could reach within the sport, and that was her goal. She knew she was capable of it, of greatness.
I saw it too. I saw the hunger my younger self had for the game reflected in her.
And when she asked for my help, I told her I couldn’t make her any promises, but I’d teach her what I could. It was up to her to take it and run with it.
She didn’t just run. She soared.
And now she holds that trophy in her hands, a winning score on the scoreboard above, a Frozen Four Champion.
