I grew up a fan of the Chicago Blackhawks, my hometown team, a love I inherited from my dad, who was a huge Blackhawks fan himself. In the 2010-2011 season, he took me to my very first hockey game. It was an Original 6 matchup between the Blackhawks and the Detroit Red Wings. I remember sitting high up in the stands, taking in the energy of the arena, and feeling completely captivated by the game. From my seat, the players and the puck looked tiny, but the action on the ice was so fast and thrilling—it was unlike anything I had ever seen.

Though the Blackhawks lost that night, something clicked inside me. That game ignited a deep love for hockey that I still carry to this day. In the days that followed, my dad tried to get me to watch Blackhawks games on TV, but I wasn’t sold. I complained that the camera was too close and that I couldn’t see the entire ice like I could at the game. But I was hooked, and I kept begging him for more tickets. Eventually I grew to love watching the Hawks on TV. That first game was the start of a lifelong love for the team, and I’ll always be grateful to my dad for sharing that experience with me.