I nodded and headed to the locker room, needing the privacy to process. I changed out of my suit quickly, grateful to shed the formal armor for jeans and a T-shirt.
My phone continued buzzing with notifications—I opened one app again and immediately wished I hadn’t.
@Griff_Lapierre was trending worldwide. Number one. Ahead of everything.
#HockeyIsForEveryonewas trending too, thousands of posts celebrating, supporting, sharing both my press conference and Wesley’s post.
I scrolled through responses, my stomach churning.
BREAKING: Portland Stormhawks captain Griffin Lapierre becomes first NHL player to publicly come out as gay. Full story at link.
The NHL stands with Griffin Lapierre and celebrates his courage. Hockey is for everyone. #HockeyIsForEveryone
Crying watching Griffin Lapierre’s press conference. This is what courage looks like.
Thank you @Griff_Lapierre for your incredible bravery. You’ve just changed hockey history and made the sport safer for LGBTQ+ athletes everywhere.
The support was overwhelming—athletes from other sports, LGBTQ+ organizations, fans, journalists, random people expressing pride and gratitude.
But there was backlash too. Ugly comments, suggestions that I was seeking attention, predictions that my career was over, homophobic slurs I’d feared my entire life.
Then I saw Cory Boucher’s post from eleven minutes after my press conference.
Interesting PR strategy by @Griff_Lapierre. Wonder if Colorado knew what they were getting rid of. #Stormhawks #BoldMove
The dismissive sarcasm hit harder than the hate. Boucher couldn’t even acknowledge my coming out directly, had to couch it in implication and snark.
Fuck him. He was bitter and small. That wouldn’t touch me.
But it still stung.
My phone rang—Michael’s name flashing. I answered and braced for the lecture.
“I watched your press conference.” His voice was tight, controlled. “You did exactly what I told you not to do. Made yourself a target, turned your career into a social statement.”
“And?” I waited for the rest.
“And you handled it well. The statement was strong. Your answers were professional. You didn’t come across as a victim, just as a player being honest.” He paused. “I’ll admit—grudgingly—that was impressive.”
The faint praise felt like a win. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. This is going to complicate everything. But—” Another pause. “I respect that you did it on your own terms. With preparation. That matters.”
“I had help.” Wesley’s contribution couldn’t go unacknowledged.
Michael was quiet. “I’ve already gotten calls from three potential sponsors. Progressive brands that want to support you. You lost the outdoor sports gear endorsement—conservative ownership. But the new inquiries are worth more combined. Net positive financially if we play this right.”
The pragmatic calculation should have felt hollow, but it was also proof Michael was doing his job. “Keep me posted.”
“Griffin—” His voice softened fractionally. “What you did took courage. Your father would be—” He stopped himself. “You did well today.”
We ended the call, and I saw a text from my mother waiting.
Mom
I watched your press conference. I’m so worried about you. The backlash, the media attention—are you safe? Are you okay? Please call me when you can. I love you, honey. I’m trying to understand. This is just a lot to take in.
Griffin
