“A ticket for the game tonight.”
“Zee dropped it off?”
“Last night.”
I keep my eyes locked on the envelope in my hands.
“I think you should go.”
My attention darts to Ryan.
“I think he loves you but doesn’t know how to say it, and if you feel the same way, you should go. You’ll never forgive yourself for missing this game.” He takes a sip of his fresh coffee. “And that’s all the great advice I have for this time of the day.” Ryan leaves me alone in the kitchen and heads back into his room.
Cautiously, I open the envelope in my hands, pulling the ticket out. A blue Post-it Note sticks to it with a simple, pleading message.
This season means nothing without you.
Nothing matters without you.
Please come tonight.
-Zee
52
ZANDERS
I barely slept.
Tonight is the night that my life-long goal might be fulfilled. I’ve only dreamt of winning the Stanley Cup since I learned what it was. Any kid that throws on a pair of hockey skates considers this moment, but only a few experience it in their lifetimes.
My most significant life achievement can happen tonight, and I can’t help but think about what brought me here.
My dad made ends meet, ensuring my hockey tournaments were paid for so I wouldn’t miss out. I was heavily scouted my sophomore year of high school, even in my tiny Indiana town. The full-ride scholarship I earned to Ohio State University. The semester I failed two courses and missed my sophomore season, resulting in almost losing said scholarship.
My best friend, who I met when I was seven and hated until I was twenty-two. Senior Showcase, the weekend we put our hostility aside and realized we had more similarities than differences.
The night I got called up to the league and the phone call I made to Lindsey, who was screaming with joy on the other end.
My first two months in Chicago where I was scared shitless to be the rookie on a team full of veterans. My first full season in the NHL when I spent an ungodly number of minutes in the penalty box.
The year Maddison got traded here, and pieces began to fall into place. We started building a team around the two of us. But the last six seasons, we fell short, barely making playoffs some years while others, we lost in the first round.
And this season. This is the season my entire life changed. The first road trip of the year shifted everything. A curly-haired flight attendant with an attitude put me in my place and became everything I never knew I needed. She exposed the missing pieces in my life while simultaneously putting them all together.
I shed unnecessary burdens while repairing relationships I’ve missed. I decided to stop playing into the persona fans love to hate. But most importantly, this year, I did the one thing I was most afraid of. I let someone love me for me, and I can’t imagine a more picture-perfect ending than holding the Cup above my head with her by my side.
My dad followed me back to Chicago last night after shooting two more rounds of pool. Lindsey’s flight landed around ten this morning, and the two of them are staying in a hotel in the city for a few nights. They’re both in the arena for the first time in my pro career, and I’m overwhelmed with a sense of comfort from knowing I have fans here solely for me.
The media has been insane, following our every move since we returned from Pittsburgh after games one and two. Maddison and my sordid college history has been making national headlines as a feel-good story about rivals turned friends who are now only one win away from becoming Stanley Cup champions.
Stevie’s name has circulated slightly, but our team’s impressive playoff run has shadowed her and our relationship, which is for the best. I’d rather the media not figure out what’s going on between us before I do.
I’ve gone by her apartment every day since I’ve been back, but she hasn’t come home yet. I don’t know if she’s even in Chicago today, let alone in the arena, but I can’t think about her right now.
For the next couple of hours, my entire focus needs to be on the three periods of hockey I’m about to play, which is why I got her a ticket out of my vantage point. I can’t be looking for her all night, and I know if I see an empty seat, it’ll throw me off.
My dad and Lindsey are up in the family box with Logan and the rest of the Maddisons, but I want to be present if and when Stevie meets my dad, so I got her a ticket in general seating instead.
Even though it’s not confirmed if she’s back in Chicago, I have to believe she is. I can’t imagine she’d miss this.