Page 111 of The Callahan Effect

The horn exploded through the arena.

For one suspended heartbeat the entire building seemed to stop breathing.

Then everything erupted.

Gloves sailed into the air. Sticks bounced across the ice as players abandoned every ounce of composure we'd maintained throughout the game. Ryan reached me first, wrapping both arms around me before spinning me completely off my skates, and a heartbeat later the rest of the team crashed into us from every direction until we became one laughing, shouting pile of green jerseys sprawled across center ice.

"We did it!" Luca yelled somewhere beneath the celebration.

Ryan laughed so hard he could barely answer.

"We actually fucking did it!"

The championship trophy waited near the blue line, but for those first precious moments none of us cared about silverware or photographs.

We celebrated each other.

Every early-morning practice.

Every bus trip.

Every conditioning session.

Every injury.

Every sacrifice.

Everything that had led us here.

When I finally looked toward the stands, I found Jack with my parents, Emma, and Corey. They'd been there through different parts of the journey that had brought me to Evergreen and eventually to this championship game and having all of them together for the moment we'd spent an entire season chasing made winning feel even better than I'd imagined.

One by one we were congratulated by Mariners, most admitting they’d been well and truly outplayed.

The trophy presentation passed in a blur of flashing cameras, television interviews, and teammates determined to make certain nobody escaped without being drenched in water, sports drink, or whatever happened to be within reach. Ryan accepted the championship trophy from a tournament official and raised it above his head to another deafening roar from the Evergreen supporters before lowering it and passing it along the line. During my year playing beside him, I'd learned that Ryan never treated leadership as something that placed him above the rest of us, and even in the biggest moment of our season, he wanted every player who'd helped earn the championship to have his turn holding it.

When the trophy reached me, I wrapped both hands around the polished silver handles and lifted it above my head. I'd imagined this moment countless times during years of practices, games, conditioning sessions, and sacrifices, but I'd never imagined the route I'd take to reach it. I'd transferred across the country to a program where nothing had been promised, found teammates who became friends, suffered an injury that took almost three months of my season, fought my way back onto the ice, and somehow finished the year standing beneath the championship banners with the trophy in my hands.

I lowered it eventually and passed it to the teammate waiting beside me, knowing the photograph of me holding it would probably follow me for years but already certain it wouldn't be the image I remembered most clearly. The season had given me far more than the championship I'd come to Evergreen hoping to win, and as the celebrations continued around me, I knew there wasn't another place I would rather have spent the past year or another group of men I would rather have shared it with.

The celebrations continued long after the final horn, with television crews, photographers, tournament officials, and Evergreen players crowding the ice for interviews and photographs. Eventually we were directed toward the tunnel and back to the locker room, where the celebration erupted all over again before Coach finally reminded us that our families were waiting.

By the time I’d showered, changed, and emerged into the concourse, Mom was already hurrying toward me with Dad close behind her. She wrapped both arms around me before I had the chance to say anything, and Dad followed with an embrace strong enough to remind me exactly where I'd inherited my size. Emma waited approximately three seconds before throwing herself at me, and Corey joined the congratulations with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested he'd personally contributed to all four goals.

Jack hung back long enough to let my family have their moment before I reached for him and pulled him against me. He'd watched every minute of the game from the stands, endured the final ten minutes with my parents, Emma, and Corey, and somehow understood without being told that I needed him beside me now that the noise and pressure of the championship were finally beginning to ease.

Corey waited until Jack and I had shared a kiss and separated before clapping me hard on the shoulder. "For the record, transferring to Evergreen turned out to be an acceptable life decision."

I laughed at the deliberate understatement. "Acceptable?"

He shrugged. "You won a national championship, found the man you love, and somehow survived living without me. I suppose you've done all right."

"Generous of you."

"I thought so."

I held Jack's hand firmly in mine as we made our way through the crowded concourse with my parents, Emma, and Corey. Coach was still tied up with the team, tournament officials, assistant coaches, and the seemingly endless stream of people wanting to congratulate him on another national championship, but Jack had already arranged for us to catch up with him once his responsibilities were finished. Corey continued insisting that my success could be traced directly back to years of having him as my best friend, becoming increasingly creative about his supposed contribution until even Dad was laughing at him.

By the time we reached the main exit, Corey had apparently decided that taking credit wasn't enough and he deserved some form of compensation as well. "I believe you're buying dinner tonight. Winning a national championship has to be worth at least one decent meal for the people who traveled all this way to watch you."