Finding Home

Rexall was filled with quite a few more people than I expected, which caused me to let out a sigh of relief. I ran my hands through my hair as we found a seat behind a nice looking family at center ice.

Obviously we weren’t going to be the only ones here, but I didn’t really know what he meant when Brian said there would be a scrimmage. The Oilers’ preseason didn’t technically start for a few more weeks, but as Brian and I continued talking throughout the week, he said it was more of a pick-up game than anything. The fans clearly knew about it, though, as more and more filed through the doors.

I found myself observing the people around us. They were of all different ages, ranging from toddler to elderly, and they were almost all adorned in Edmonton Oilers gear. Some had even made signs. It was a pleasant atmosphere to be a part of as there was no tension in the air, no fear of a potential loss that afternoon. Camaraderie abounded within the walls of the rink as people shook hands and talked and laughed amongst each other, excited for the season to start back up.

Although I loved baseball and basketball, the Patriots and the Boston College Eagles were my pride and joy. But there was something about hockey and its players that blew every other athlete and sport out of the water. The passion with which they played was unparalleled. The intensity went up immensely during the road to the Stanley Cup, but even before that, the games I’d caught randomly throughout the years, it seemed as though each player was always giving it their all 100% of the time, almost as if each game would be their last. My favorite component was the brotherhood that accompanied each team. I figured that was one of the things that drew me to the Bruins, besides living in Boston.

My thoughts were derailed by the little boy in front of me excitedly jumping out of his seat and yelling, “There he is! There’s Taylor Hall!”

It brought a smile to my face. He was practically dancing in his seat as he watched the team skate onto the ice. I turned to see where he was looking and my smile grew wider.

The team was in great spirits, laughing and cracking jokes as they skated back and forth. There were no coaches or referees present; so far all I knew was that it could end up being a free-for-all. My eyes scanned the ice for Brian, but I hadn’t asked him which number he wore, and there were no names on the backs of the jerseys. Everyone except for Ryan Nugent-Hopkins and another Oiler I didn’t recognize skated to the red line, standing together to face the rest of the players.

Aww, they’re picking teams, realization dawned on me. It reminded me of something from elementary school and I let out a giggle, causing the little boy in front of us to turn around to look at me.

“What are you laughing at?” he narrowed his eyes at me and I immediately clammed up. He couldn’t have been a day over 4 years old, but the way he was staring at me was so intimidating.

I stammered, trying to explain to the little boy what I’d found so funny. He jumped over his seat to the open seat next to me, Lindsay to my right. His mother turned around to investigate the situation and, after eyeing me up and down, chalked me up to being harmless as she turned back to the ice.

The little boy plopped down next to us, letting his feet dangle before he bombarded me with questions. “What’s your name? Why are you here alone? Don’t you have friends? Who’s your favorite player? Where’s your sweater?”

I laughed, unsure of where to begin. Since when are kids so unnerving? “My name’s Tessie. This is my sister, Lindsay,” motioning to my right. “What’s yours?” Let’s start with the basics.

“I’m Matt. I love hockey! We play in our basement and I’m always goalie. No one ever scores on me! One time Ryan almost did, but then I stopped it with my hands!”

This kid was the most precious thing I had ever seen in my life. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, which I was a sucker for in children, and he got so excited talking that he had to take deep breaths between his words, oftentimes stumbling over them. My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so big as he went on and on talking about hockey and Ryan, who I assumed was his brother, among other things I wasn’t sure I knew the meaning behind.

The teams seemed to be formed on the ice and the game was almost under way. I took my eyes off of Matt for a moment to look up, only to be met with a pair of deep blue eyes looking back at her. If Matt was the most precious thing, I wasn’t sure what Brian was right then. He had clearly been watching me talk to the little boy, and when I looked up to see him there, he tilted his head to the side and gave me the cutest boyish smile before skating to reconvene with his team.

“Whoa, did you see that?!” Matt exclaimed from beside me. “Number Sixty smiled over here!”

“Yeah,” I replied breathlessly.

The scrimmage was arguably one of the most fun sporting events I’d been to in my life. Obviously, it couldn’t compare to being at the World Series or Stanley Cup Finals or any of parades that ensued, but it was definitely up there. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of the company I kept in Matt, who I ended up having a blast with, cheering on both teams, or because I actually got to see Brian and the other prospects in action, live, something I never thought I would ever get to do. It was mesmerizing watching him, even if he wasn’t giving it his all. He was so fast and so skilled and I was happy that we got to see him in this element. He, along with many of the other players, was doing all kinds of tricks that he wouldn’t normally do during a game, and the crowd loved it. The prospects were having a blast and there wasn’t a moment when Matt didn’t have that adorable dimpled smile plastered on his face. No wonder there are so many self-proclaimed Puck Bunnies, I thought to myself.

After the game resulted in a tie, the team skated over to the glass and saluted the crowd who went wild. I cheered as well as held Matt up so he could see over the people standing in front of us. I scanned the line of men searching for one in particular, perplexed when I didn’t find the face I was looking for. Suddenly I heard my name being called from the side of the bleachers and looked down to see Brian standing there, still dressed in his hockey gear, skates and all.

Matt looked up at me with wide eyes. “He’s saying your name!”

“You wanna go talk to him?” When he nodded eagerly, I spoke to Matt’s mother whom I’d introduced myself to during the game. She gave her blessing to take Matt to talk to Brian. I grabbed his hand and led him down the steps and over to the railing next to the tunnel. Lindsay had already made her way down. In his skates, Brian was eye level with the fifth row steps.

“Who’s your new friend, Tess?”

“I’m Matt!” he announced proudly, kneeling down on the concrete to get closer to Brian. “You’re a Baron! Are you going to be an Oiler soon?”

Brian chuckled and leaned against the wall, looking up at Matt. “You’re right, I am. And I sure hope so! How old are you, Matt?”

Matt shoved four fingers in Brian’s face, nearly knocking him over. I covered my mouth before a giggle could escape. Something about watching a man and a little kid was heartbreaking in the best way possible.

“How would you like for me to sign your shirt, Matt?”

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning as he turned to look at me. I nodded encouragement, tongue slightly showing through the smile I gave him. Brian turned Matt around and signed the back of his shirt before whispering something in his ear. Matt nodded furiously.

“Would you mind if I got a picture, too?” Matt’s family had joined us and Brian nodded appreciatively. They got one of just Matt and Brian, and then I shooed Ryan in to get another one. They said their goodbyes to Brian and Matt sprinted over to me, jumping into my arms and squeezing me tightly before he ran off with his family.

“I think he had a little crush on you,” Brian snickered. We were divided by the railing. I had watched them leave the arena, and then weaved my way back to Lindsay and Brian.

I smiled and shook my head before holding out a fist for him to bump. “Good game out there.”

He pounded my fist and exploded his hand, making me laugh. “Thank you! I’m glad you two came. How did you like it?”

While Lindsay answered Brian’s question and they talked, I looked around the arena, admiring all the banners hanging from the rafters. Edmonton had once been a city of winners, which made the past few seasons even more painful to think about. While reading the Oilers’ past accomplishments, I could have sworn I felt a pair of eyes on me, watching me. I averted my eyes from the rafters down to the eyes, meeting the gaze of Number Four.

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