Page 55 of The Rebound Play
The crowd erupts in elated cries and chants for the Ice Breakers, for me, for all of us.
We won, and I got the winning goal—with an expert assist from Scotty.
There really is nothing like it, this feeling you get when you’re up against it, victory in your sights, and you risk it all for the win.
My teammates pile on me, shouting and laughing. They’re all so heavy, I can barely stay on my feet. It’s hard to stand when a pack of big burly guys hurls themselves at you.
Scotty pulls me into a tight hug, both of us breathless and grinning.
“Great pass,” I say, my voice hoarse from shouting.
“Great shot,” he returns, clapping me on the back.
Elated, I turn from him to find Keira in the crowd. She’s on her feet, along with her friends and family and the rest of the town, grinning and waving and jumping up and down in glee. I skate over to the plexiglass in front of her, just as I have after every goal and at the end of each match, thumping my chest with my gloved hand before I blow her a kiss.
Just as she has every time before, she has a mixture of pride, happiness, and embarrassment on her pretty face.
That’s my girl. My Kiki.
It doesn’t get much better than this, people. Making the final shot to win the last game, closing out the series, and all of it in front of the woman I love.
Today has got to be as close to perfect as a day can get.
We line up to pay our respects to the Jacks before we all take a well-earned victory lap of the rink to the team song. “Ice Ice Baby” may not be a song I ever particularly liked before, but today, I’m a total convert, so much so, I’d say it’s now my favorite song.
The crowd goes wild, a ripple of cheering and squeals of delight following us as we move slowly around the ice as a team. I’ve led these fine players over the last five games, and it has been both an honor and deeply satisfying to do so on my home turf for a worthy cause, in front of my family, my friends from before I left for the NHL, and in front of Keira.
By the time we’ve done our third victory lap, I gesture to the guys that it’s time to bid our final farewell, and we wave at the crowd one final time as we leave the ice.
The atmosphere in the locker room is electric, everyone pumped that we not only won the final game, but that we won the series, too. With it is a tinge of sadness, too. It’s been great to work with these guys—even Cooper Montgomery with his perpetual scowl. He’s a good guy and a great player. Playing with Dawson again after all this time brought back great memories of our college years together, and it’s with tears in my eyes that I slap him on the back as we hug.
“Awesome defense today,” I say. “I’m gonna miss having you on my team.”
“It’s been real, man,” he replies. “Let’s try to spend more time together in the future, when our schedules allow.”
I grin, knowing I’ve rekindled an important friendship in my life. “You got it.”
As the captain, of course, there’s the press conference that follows, and this time it’s an absolute pleasure to front for the team, sharing my genuine pride in our success on the ice.
“Where are you going next now that you’re over your injury? Back to the Blizzard?” a journalist asks.
“I’m headed back to Chicago for my day job tomorrow morning, but I do plan on spending a lot more time Maple Falls in the future. This place is home to me, and being back here has reminded me of that,” I reply, searching the crowd for Keira. I don’t find her, which is weird. She usually comes to these postgame press conferences. In fact, she’s never missed one, always at the back of the room, her presence reassuring me.
“Any particular reason for that?” the journalist asks, refocussing my attention.
“It’s my hometown and I’ve missed it here. My family. My friends.” I spot Mom, Dad, Emmy, and Mimi in the crowd. Each and every one of them is smiling proudly back at me, and it warms me to know I was able to lead the team to a victory here in my hometown arena in front of them. Although they’ve all seen me playing for the Blizzard in recent years, it means so much more when it’s on home turf—and for such a meaningful cause.
“Does that have anything to do with the person you’ve been blowing kisses to over the last five games here?”
I can’t help but smile at the thought of Keira. “Maybe,” I reply elusively, but anyone who knows me could read my expression from a hundred yards away.
The press conference finally wraps, and I shake Zach Hart’s hand.
“Thanks for all your hard work, Dan,” he says.
“It’s been an honor and a pleasure, sir,” I say.
“You’ve been a great leader for the team, just as Troy said you would be. And enough with the ‘sir.’ It’s Zach.”