Page 106 of Zero Pucks Given
Game Four: 4 - 1
Making matters worse was the fact that games three and four were played at the Frost Bank Center in San Antonio. Which not only meant that I had to witness the losses in person, but that the opposing team got to celebrate the sweep on our ice.
It was a disappointing end to an otherwise fairytale season. I took solace in the fact that Grayson played well in all the losses. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault: the Dallas Stars were just a better team.
Which, selfishly, meant I wouldn’t get blamed for it.
After shaking hands with their opponents, the Surge players skated around the ice and waved to the crowd. Even though the clinching game was a blowout, most of the Surge fans had stayed until the very end, eager to savor just a few more precious minutes of San Antonio hockey before the season ended. I prepared myself for their frustration, knowing they might boo the home team for the ugly performance in this series.
Yet despite the disappointing loss, the fans showered the players with applause and praise. It was heartwarming to see.
“I’m proud of these boys,” Grayson told the media after the game. “Proud of how far they got, and proud of how much fight they showed every step of the way, in spite of all the injuries we’ve dealt with this past month.”
“Grayson!” one reporter shouted. “Are you disappointed with the result tonight?”
“Every loss is disappointing,” he admitted. “I wish we had won. But let me make one thing very clear: the league had better watch out for us next season. Because the San Antonio Surge are just getting started.”
I waited for Grayson outside the arena by the team parking lot. The players trickled out one by one, wearing various expressions of disappointment and resignation. I tried to imagine how they felt. When one of my videos did poorly, it was easy to shake off because I usually had another video being posted the next day. But these guys? Their season was over. A few guys would retire. Others might play for a different team next season. But those that would stay on the Surge had to let this loss marinate formonthsbefore getting a chance to redeem themselves.
I didn’t know how they did it.
Finally, Grayson came striding through the door. He looked tired, but gave me a weak smile.
“You waited for me?”
I laced my arm around him and snorted. “I wasn’t going to let you go home alone.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Huh.”
“What?” he asked.
“Kissing a loser feels the exact same as kissing a winner.”
The joke was on the edge of playful, and I hoped it wouldn’t sting. Fortunately, Grayson closed his eyes and chuckled.
“Too soon?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I appreciate that you can make me laugh after we got our asses handed to us. Let’s go home. I can’t wait to crawl into bed and close my eyes.”
“Amen.”
But on the way to his car, we passed a chain-link fence where dozens of fans were waiting, waving Surge towels and cheering in our direction. As soon as we came into view, they started screaming Grayson’s name.
“Let’s make a detour,” he said, heading in that direction.
The fans erupted in approval when Grayson reached the fence. They shoved pens and markers in his direction, begging him for autographs. Grayson put on a smile and said a few words to each fan as he signed whatever he was handed: scraps of paper, jerseys, even one older woman’s cleavage—which drew a huge laugh from the crowd.
“Don’t worry honey,” she told me. “I’m happily married. Not trying to make a move on your man.”
“You’d better not!” I joked.
“There’s plenty of me to go around,” Grayson joked.
One fan thrust a notepad and pen in my direction. “I’ll make sure he signs it next,” I said, taking it from her.
“That’s for you!” the fan insisted. “I want Josie Harper’s autograph!”
“Me too!” another woman yelled, fighting through the crowd so she could shove a makeup case across the fence. “I bought this afterwatching your channel! Sign it for me!”
I exchanged a look with Grayson, then began signing the objects.
