w 1 t n e s s

thirty-five

Life grew wheels in March of 2021. Before I knew it, the regular season was over. Playoffs held a different feeling this year. With my finals over early in April, I was free to attend the games. The first round was against Winnipeg. I was grateful the game was at home.

I joined my girls an hour before game time. For the first time, I was experiencing playoff jitters. The energy at Chaunette's house was electric. We each wore custom denim jackets, unique to each of us. Mine bore Tyler's last name, emblazoned over the large number one. The elbows had black and red stripes, just like the jerseys. On my left arm, right above the stripes, was the American flag. For Alex, it was the Latvian flag. On the other arm, the Blackhawks logo hovered proudly. Various black and red stars adorned the fabric. The front of mine had a captain's 'C,' as well as the words 'The Holy One' underneath it.

For Lyndsey and Tayler, underneath their collars read 'Future Mrs.' I loved the ideas of these jackets, and it seemed like playoff tradition. It was fun to study the inside jokes on the other women's jackets. We all looked nearly identical, with our outfits and hair. I assumed that was the idea. Even little Andy Shaw and Zoé Lehner were outfitted with little jean jackets and bouncy curls. The boys were wearing their dad's jerseys instead. The kids left the house early to watch warmups while the rest of us pregamed and enjoyed each other's company.

We were unstoppable as a group. I knew that the Winnipeg women would be here as well. It was a competition in its own. While our boys were battling it out on the ice, we were supporting them as wildly as possible. I felt the growing stress.

This was only the first game. There would be three more after this. That was, unless we tied the series. Then the games might go on and on until game seven. The daunting road ahead made my head spin. This was only the first round.

I settled back into my seat in the United Center. The Madhouse was wild today. The fans hadn't been shy about showing up. Our group was surrounded by people of all ages decked out in red. I let out a heavy breath as the national anthems began. Tayler squeezed my hand. When the singing had concluded, she leaned over.

"Ready for playoff hockey?" I managed a weak smile. I felt too sick to respond.

Oh, please let Tyler do well. Let them win this round and move on.

&&&

I should learn not to worry about Tyler. After the first game with an easy score of three to zero, the team went on to win the series four to one. The second game had been hectic, and they'd lost in double overtime. The loss only made them come back stronger. Especially when we played the Blues. The longtime rivalry generated a hatred that left me even more concerned for Tyler.

We hadn't talked much over the phone during the series. If the games continued, I had a feeling that trend would persist. I didn't mind. He needed to focus. He needed to win. And I wanted him to prevail just as much as he did.

Once again, the first game of the series was at home. I was exhausted from traveling back and forth, but this game was worth my sleep-deprived state. Like the first four games, Tayler squeezed my hand during the anthem. My heart thumped in my chest. It was go time.

I sucked in a breath as the puck went down. Tyler scooped the puck away, quickly gaining possession off of his win. I watched him sail down the ice, sending an early shot on net. It didn't go in. I groaned as the opposing team took the puck back down the ice.

The forward didn't get far before Adam hit him into the boards. I let out a collective whoop with the rest of the arena. It was a solid hit, enough to shake the puck loose and send it up to Pat. Before Patrick's stick had touched the puck, Tyler was already flying into the neutral zone. He positioned himself into a perfect place to receive the pass. With Alex up the left, Tyler redirected the puck to him. The three worked like clockwork, passing circles around the Blues.