This piece is about more than the last game before the Milan Olympics between the Boston Fleet and the New York Sirens. In the context of hockey and PWHL history, this wasn’t an especially memorable game, except for Alina Müller’s first shootout goal. For the author, this was the most memorable hockey game of my life.

This story starts on February 10, 2002 in the same place it ends: the Tsongas Center in Lowell, MA. That evening, my parents took my brother and I to our first professional hockey game, an AHL match between the Worcester Ice Cats and the Lowell Lock Monsters. This was as insignificant as any hockey game ever played, with the Lock Monsters being demolished 5-1 in their home barn during the height of the Jeff Heerema era. Despite the lopsided and miserable outcome, I asked my brother while we were in line at a Walk Up Brew on Wednesday, January 28, 2026 at the Fleet game about our first hockey game, and he recited that same script back to me twenty-four years later.

As we returned to our seats with drinks in hand, the Fleet stepped out onto the ice for their warmups, giving me a once-in-a-lifetime moment. I was blessed by the birth of my daughter back in November, and after two months, my wife and I were finally ready to bring her to a hockey game. Even though I freelance here at Black Stitch Hockey, covering every college and pro game I can get my eyes on, my wife has spent exponentially more time at hockey rinks than I have, but I’ll talk how that’s important later. Once my daughter was settled in, I brought her to the glass to perceive hockey for the first time. I knew she wouldn’t remember it, but I wanted her to have the pictures.

In that brief ten minutes at the glass, I got two moments that will stay with me forever: The first was a brief moment when Aerin Frankel was less than two feet from us, giving my daughter, Aerin, the brief chance to visually track the Olympian whose existence in this sports market led to her name. The second, another brief moment as Jamie Lee Rattray skated by at the end of warmups.

The ceremonial puck drop featuring members of the 1998 Nagano Olympics team was splendid. I was too young to appreciate their success at that time, but their legacy led me to watch the US women play at every Olympic games since, and with far more emotional investment than the men’s team.

As the game began, Aerin was simply existing, as small babies do in loud and bright environments, and the Fleet’s first goal could not have been scored by anyone but Abby Newhook. During my hockey journey, my brother-in-law, Mathew Gover, formerly of MCLA of NCAA III, spent time playing at Tabor Academy. I never knew how close they really were, but Mat always had great things to say about Abby, as did the member of that Tabor’s girls team that he brought to my wedding. My daughter won’t remember that goal, just like I don’t remember the goal by the Lock Monsters on that evening in 2002, but she’ll hear about it from her Uncle for the rest of her life that the first goal she saw live was scored by an acquaintance.

The Fleet lost control of the game in the second period, surrendering two late goals to Kristen O’Neil and Kristýna Kaltounková, but that was fine. My wife’s best friend and her girlfriend, two former rugby players, joined us at that point in the game. As someone who has championed women’s hockey and been an ally of the LGBTQ+ community for a longtime, seeing the future of the game and the space it exists in culminating was surreal.

The third period was a lesson in what the 2025-26 Fleet are about as Liz Schepers and Rattray pulled the team from a goal behind to a goal ahead in the opening six minutes. They couldn’t finish the game in regulation as Kaltounková forced the game to overtime, but a stoic performance and a pair of elite goals from Müller propelled the Fleet to a shootout victory.

Leaving the Tsongas Center once again, I couldn’t help but appreciate what this night and these moments meant to me. If the PWHL hadn’t decided to come to Lowell, my daughter and I wouldn’t have seen our first hockey games in the same building. In a life filled with small, inconsequential moments, it’s nice to find small, pleasant things to smile about. I say, as I set up the Aerin Frankel bobblehead in her nursery, a keepsake she’ll always have to remember her first game by.