Page 123 of Puck Fest
I stand near the back in a suit I bought specifically for this event, watching Noah work the room like he was born to do it.
He’s in his element. Shaking hands, telling stories about the kids the foundation serves, explaining the new programs they’re launching. Director of Strategic Partnerships and Community Engagement—that’s his official title now. Basically, he connects organizations that want to give back with communities that need support.
It’s perfect for him. It takes all the skills he had as a PR director and uses them for something that actually matters instead of managing damage control for millionaire athletes.
Sam Hartley’s on stage giving a speech about the foundation’s growth, thanking donors, and introducing board members. Noah’s name gets called and he heads up to say a few words.
I watch him take the microphone. A rush of pride fills me.He’s confident and composed, so different from the man who sat across from me at that coffee shop seven months ago, broken and unsure.
We’ve both changed since then.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” Noah says. “When I first came to Play It Forward, I was looking for a job. What I found was a purpose. This foundation changes lives…not through PR spin or carefully crafted messaging, but through real action. Real support. Real community.”
He talks about the programs. The kids. The impact. He’s so good at this. Always has been.
But now he believes what he’s saying. And people can tell.
When he finishes, the applause is genuine. He steps off stage and immediately gets pulled into conversations with donors who want to write checks.
I hang back and let him work. This is his night. I’m just here to support.
“Masterson.”
I turn. Sam Hartley appears next to me with a champagne flute in his hand.
“Hey, Sam. This is a hell of an event.”
“Thanks. Noah put most of it together. The guy’s a machine when he’s motivated. But you already know that.” He glances at the stage.
“You know how much he loves it. He turned down three job offers to stay.”
Sam’s eyebrows lift. “Really?”
“Yep. Better pay, bigger titles. But he wanted to keep working with your organization. He said this work matters more.”
“Well, we’re really lucky to have him.” Sam takes a sip of his drink. “How’s the season going?”
“Good. Really good. We’re five and oh to start. Best record in the division.”
“So the redemption arc is complete?”
I almost laugh. “Something like that.”
It’s true though. Last season ended in disaster. We missed the playoffs by three games.
But this season’s different. We’re clicking, playing like a team that remembers what winning feels like.
And I’m playing the best hockey of my career.
Turns out being happy off the ice helps on it. Who knew?
“You two doing okay?” Sam asks. “With everything?”
“Yeah. We’re good.”
“Good. Because that coffee shop video could have gone either way.”
Theothervideo. Right.
