I love sports, but it’s been a long time since I truly cared about the outcome of a sporting event. I might watch a disc golf tournament, football game, or soccer highlights and hope that one team wins over the other, but afterwards it doesn’t cross my mind again.
Last week will haunt me for quite a while.
The story actually starts last year. Around this time in 2024, I attended a round-robin game of the ACHA (high-level collegiate club hockey) national tournament. Hockey isn’t a sport I follow, but my cousin, Jason, was in the tournament on the Air Force Academy team.
Quick backstory on Jason: He started playing hockey when he was 6. Turns out he’s really, really good at it, so he went to a boarding school for high school, the type that feeds into division I and the NHL. He was accepted to the Air Force Academy and played DI hockey there for a bit before he was cut to the club team, which was still very competitive and a big commitment.
Flash forward to last year, when Air Force needed to win the third round robin game to advance. It was a thrilling overtime game against the University of Missouri, and Air Force just barely lost. Jason played incredibly well, scoring several goals.
Since then, Air Force gained even more players cut from their DI team. Led by Jason–now a senior–they won their division and returned to the national championships here in St. Louis. We attended their second game with a few friends. It was closer than expected, but they pulled off the victory. They ended up winning their group and entered the Final Four.
All other 3 teams in the Final Four were stacked with guys from Michigan who were born with skates on their feet. In the first game, Oakland faced off against Air Force, and as good as the Air Force team is, after a few minutes I was legitimately worried.
To take a quick step back, let me reinforce that I have an appreciation for sports, but I very rarely get carried away in the moment. If I attend a game, I’m just watching (and I’ll clap if there’s a good play). That’s it.
But with my cousin and his team on the ice, I was absolutely riveted. Clapping, cheering, on either the edge of my seat or my feet. I could tell how much they cared, and I truly wanted them to play well and win. And I’m surrounded by parents of every player on the team who care even more.
So when the final buzzer sounded and Air Force won, we went wild. The boys came out of the locker room and we cheered them like they had won the World Cup. They were so proud, and we were proud of them. Somehow we also all ended up at the same restaurant in St. Charles.
But there was one final game. Of course I was there, cheering for Air Force against Hope College, which had a huge cheering section (full credit to them for making the trip from Michigan). There team was a force of nature, but Air Force was pesky, somehow holding them to an 0-0 draw after the first period.
Then something clicked, and Air Force scored. Hope got one back, but then within a few minutes we scored two more goals, with Jason getting the second one from distance. End of period: 3-1, Air Force.
We were buzzing at the break. This was really happening. After nearly 18 years on the ice, Jason’s final game was on track to be a national championship win. What a way to end that story.
Hope College got a goal a few minutes into the third, but Air Force was controlling the ice. They had some good chances but couldn’t convert.
Then, within the span of around 3 minutes, Hope scored 3 goals. I felt like I blinked and the score was 3-5.
I wish I could say that there was still a miracle in the air, but with only a few minutes left, Air Force had no choice but to pull their goalie, and Hope scored again.
I really wanted this for Jason. I know all of the young men out there–on both teams–have their own story, and half of them (the Hope half) are probably still riding high after the win. But Jason is family, so his story matters the most to me, and I’m crushed that it ended this way. Especially after coming so close.
We watched the Air Force team respectfully watch Hope celebrate through the medal ceremony. Then, one by one, they left the ice. I thought Jason was leaving first, but no–he skated over to the locker room entrance, turned around, and hugged every player, coach, and assistant as they left. Jason was the very last to leave.
In the 2 days that have passed since the game, I’ve thought a lot about the game. The goals, the defensive plays, the hits, the cheers. I’ve thought about the score–3-1 into 3-6 at the end. I’ve thought about the players as the win slipped away.
But what I’ll remember most is how proud I am of my cousin, Jason, number 25, for standing on the ice for the last time as a college player, giving his love, support, and leadership to every member of his team. It was truly something special to witness.
Nice job for your cousin, still something to be proud of! Couple typos in the post which is unlike your normal writing.
Just finished watching Pixar’s “Win or Lose” on Disney plus tonight (which I do recommend), so to pull a quote that show, “it’s not about being the best, it’s about trying your best.”
I’d love to fix the typos–can you let me know which ones you caught?
‘feat’ instead of ‘feet’: …on either the edge of my seat or my feat.
Thank you!
As the mom of that hockey player, I think Jamey captured the highs and lows beautifully. Of course, I smiled when I read about Jason scoring the 3rd goal and I cried as Jamey describes Jason standing on the ice to give each of his teammates/coaches a hug or a fist bump as they exited the ice down 3 goals. Years ago, Jason would have stormed off the ice mad and frustrated. You don’t realize until it’s over how much sports gave him (and not just the medals and doors open to the Air Force Academy) but as a person. When you witness his growth as a man and leader, you realize how much sports gives us. (in addition to the endless driving, funds, bake sales etc.) Jamey thank you from deep in my heart for putting words to the complex feelings that were whirling in my head as I sat on the plane to come home.
Thank you for sharing that about Jason’s evolution as a person. It’s been neat to see that over the years at family gatherings, but you were there firsthand since day 1 for his hockey journey. I’m fortunate to have witnessed the tail end of it (and hopefully he continues to have fun with it in the “beer leagues”).