and we’d been after the relevant staff to stop filtering things quite so stringently. Maybe Dallas and Devin had tried to contact me that way, but the message never got through.
Well, either way, I had their contact information now.
And I would definitely be sure Dallas got an autograph for her birthday.
The morning after the game, I took out the letter and fired up my laptop.
Dear Mr. McKenzie,
I found your note inside the hat last night and wanted to reach out regarding your daughter’s birthday gift. I would be happy to arrange to meet her. The team is going on the road tomorrow and won’t be back until the 20th, but after that, I’m sure we could schedule something. Let me know.
Thank you for the hat.
Jase Kelly
I read over the email a couple of times, then sent it and got up to make a cup of coffee. My mind stayed with the email, though. Even after eight seasons, it was still surreal to have fans at all, let alone fans who would put any real effort into meeting me or getting my signature on something. I was a midwestern farm boy who had turned out to be good at chasing a puck around on the ice, and ever since I’d been drafted into the league, my world had been completely different from anything I’d imagined while growing up.
Even after those league paychecks had started coming in (and clearing!), I still hadn’t given up the two-bedroom condo I’d had since moving to the city. I mean, I liked the place anyway, but I just couldn’t stomach the idea of throwing down the kind of cash my teammates did for huge houses in exclusive neighborhoods. Though I was better than I’d been in my early years, I was still convinced this was all going to be taken away at any moment. The money, the jersey, the contract—someone was going to realize I was just me, and then I’d be out on my ass and probably on my way back to Missouri. At least I owned my car and condo free and clear.
My email pinged, and I almost dropped my coffee. When I checked the screen, sure enough, I had an email from Devin McKenzie.
Mr. Kelly,
Thank you so much for the reply! Having her meet you would be great. I don’t really know how these things work, like where or at what kind of event she could meet you. The problem is that she has difficulty with bright lights, strong smells, and loud noise, not to mention crowds. That’s why she can’t go to games—those things trigger severe migraines. She has tried coming to team events as well, but those have never worked for the same reasons. So if I’m not pushing my luck by asking, is there any event coming up that will be more low-key?
Thank you again,
Devin
Ah, so the lights and sounds were the problem? Plus crowds? In fact, now that I thought about it, I wasn’t even surprised. Games were loud as hell, and the stadiums always had flashing lights, strobes, flickering ads—if they were painful for me when I was dumb enough to show up hungover to a game, they had to be torture for someone prone to migraines. And smells, I could see that—even from the ice, I could usually smell the hot dogs, popcorn, and pizza.
Devin,
That sounds miserable for her. I think we can come up with something.
I paused, reading and rereading Devin’s email and my own half-written response. I glanced at the note they’d stapled inside the hat.
And then I had an idea.
My teammates were always organizing things for fans, especially young fans. Hockey players in general had an enormous soft spot for kids, and most of the guys were involved in at least one or two organizations that helped kids or provided fun activities for those battling serious illnesses. During the off season, Kuznetsov always had kids from one of the cancer treatment centers come shoot goals with him. The charity that Jameson and Collier ran arranged visits to the local children’s hospital a few times a year. I went to those events whenever I could. Didn’t matter how big or small an event was—if it was for kids and/or charity, I was there.
For a long time, I’d wanted to organize something myself, but I’d always been overwhelmed by the logistics and the pressure of making sure nothing went awry. Just thinking about it now made my heart start racing and my palms start sweating. Two