Epilogue
Tyson Lane
It’s after our last game, where we lost with zero points of our own.
Everyone’s left, but I linger, taking a few extra minutes to drain the last drops of a protein shake that tastes like dirt.
That’s when my phone buzzes with a call from an unknown number.
I almost don’t answer it because it’s probably spam or someone trying to get my bank account number by saying it’s frozen or something equally as lame.
But I’m a little bored and decide to see if I’m right. “Hello?”
“Tyson.” The voice is clipped, like he’s in a rush.
I sit up a little straighter, the tone instantly putting me on edge. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“This is John Prescott, your agent’s associate. I’m calling on his behalf.”
“Ah, okay?” It comes out more like a question. I set my shaker cup on the locker-room bench. The silence stretches long enough for my stomach to start twisting. “What can I help you with?”
“You’ve been called up to the NHL.”
I blink. The room spins a bit, and the air whooshing through the vents is suddenly so loud. “Are you serious?” I manage, after several long beats.
“Your coach wants you in Minnesota this week. Flights are being arranged now. You’ll practice with the team on Monday.”
My heart slams against my ribs. I stand, pacing, trying to remember how to use my legs. With one hand gripping my head, I mutter, “I mean—how?”
“There was an injury to a defenseman who’s out indefinitely. They are headed to the playoffs and need a guy. Coach Pladson said he worked with you in the Juniors and has been following your progress. He thinks you’re ready.”
Pladson. Oh man.
I haven’t seen him in years, but he always rode me hard in the best way and believed in me even when I was still so green. “Are you sure this is for real?” I look around the locker room, half-expecting Axl or one of the other guys to be hiding in a corner, playing a joke on me.
“It’s real,” Prescott says, finally slowing his words enough that I hear a smirk. “Congrats, Ty. You’re in the NHL.”
I should probably say thank you, but my jaw hangs open and I stand unmoving. It takes a full minute for it all to sink in. Then I whoop as loud as I can and throw my fist in the air.
I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.
I immediately think about calling my parents. They made so many sacrifices for me. I want to tell the team. I thought I was going to be cut with all the team transitions happening. Never, in a million years, did I think I’d be the one to get this call.
I want to sprint back to the rink. To the weight room. To the freaking airport. I want to yell and cry and laugh all at once. I’ve never felt so many emotions colliding inside me.
Instead, I just sit on the edge of the bench, elbows on my knees, heart pounding.
This is it.
This is the moment.
All the early mornings.
The ice burns.
The weekends away from home.
The injuries.
The benchings.
They paid off.
Just like I always believed they would.
I’m going to the NHL.
And I’ve never been more terrified.
Find out what happened to Tyson next. His story is coming in June of 2026.