Denver, Colorado – October 29th, A picturesque fall evening in the Mile High City. For some, an ordinary Wednesday night. For me, it was hockey night at Ball Arena.
For the first time this season, I arrived there, shuffling off the train with a crowd of fans, all streaming toward the front entrance in support of the city’s team. I stood out in the sea of navy and burgundy, wearing the bright red colors of the New Jersey Devils.
This might surprise some people, given my track record of writing about the home team, the Colorado Avalanche. I watch almost every game, have attended plenty, and even own a Cale Makar jersey. Not to mention my postgame reports here in The Pinnacle. So why was the Avalanche writer wearing a Nico Hischier jersey and a Devils cap?
It all goes back to 2019. I was twelve years old, spending another afternoon playing Xbox like most kids my age. That’s when I stumbled across NHL 19, which happened to be free with an Xbox Live Gold subscription that month. At the time, I knew next to nothing about hockey — it didn’t have the same presence as the NFL or MLB, which dominated my sports world growing up. But what caught my eye wasn’t the gameplay. It was the cover.
Nashville Predators defenseman P.K. Subban was front and center, hitting his signature celebration pose. Subban was one of the few Black stars in a sport largely represented by white athletes. Seeing someone who looked like me on the cover of an NHL game felt different — it felt important. So I downloaded it, and that one choice changed the course of my fandom.
When I booted up the game, I was asked to pick a team. I knew only a handful of them, the Flyers, the Islanders, the Rangers. When looking through all of the options, one team instantly stood out: the New Jersey Devils. They were the only team representing my home state. That decision sealed it. From then on, I was hooked.
From that day forward, hockey became a huge part of my life. I followed the Devils religiously, watched every game, and even played for a few years, traveling across the Northeast for high school matches. I wore Devils merch everywhere I went — hats, shirts, jerseys, even keychains. It wasn’t just a team anymore; it was part of who I was.
Then came March of 2025, my move to Colorado. I began keeping up with the Avalanche, captivated by their explosive talent and electric brand of Hockey. They became my local team, a new chapter in my life’s story. So as I scanned my ticket and took my seat that October night at Ball Arena, it felt like two parts of my identity were colliding on the ice before me. My roots are in New Jersey, and my present is in Colorado.
Hockey, at that moment, wasn’t just a game. It was a bridge, connecting places, people, and memories across the years of my life. Sitting there in my red and black, surrounded by a sea of blue and burgundy, I realized something simple. You can move anywhere, wear any colors, and still carry the same love for the game.