Former Aces players are everywhere. Peters, Jett, McAvoy, Bishy, Brody, Vasko, Monty, Davis, hell, even the ones who swore they’d never set foot in Vegas again are here, laughing with the rookies, trading stories that absolutely do not belong in any official archive.
Mariana’s at our table, whispering something to Amanda from the med team while Dr. Peugeot sips on what looks very much like a large brandy.
Over at the kids’ table, things are surprisingly calm. Chloe, six and already too pretty for my sanity, sits next to Cory, Brody, and Mariana’s seven-year-old, and a load of other kids.
They’re covered in jelly and half-smeared ice cream. The other kids have followed suit, and my in-laws, Susan and Bill, the brave grandparents supervising them, are doing their best to pretend like everything is totally under control.
Susan’s smiling like she’s in her element. Bill is staring at a spoon like he wants it to turn into a remote control so he can disappear.
The nostalgia’s thick now. People are hugging more than usual and laughing a little louder. Even the media team looks sentimental, and we’re usually allergic to that kind of thing. It feels like the last game of a Stanley Cup final but without the stress rash.
Suddenly, the lights start dimming.
Conversations trail off. Glasses are set down. Heads turn.
A single spotlight hits the stage, bathing it in gold.
The familiar rumble of the Aces’ intro music starts low, curling around the room like smoke before a storm.
It’s the sound that normally signals war on ice. But tonight, it’s reverent. Soft. Almost like it knows it’s saying goodbye.
There’s a murmur, whispers of “remember when” and “God, he was terrifying.” I catch one of the trainers dabbing at his eyes.Players, big, grown men, are pretending not to get emotional. It's sweet. Kind of pathetic. I love it.
And then—
The MC steps into the spotlight.
Tom O’Connor.
Of course, it’s Tom. Silver fox, five-time Emmy winner, and the only man alive who can wear a pocket square without looking like he borrowed it from a magician.
He’s got that magnetic grin already loaded and aimed at the crowd, the kind of energy that turns any gathering into a real damn event.
“Good evening, Las Vegas,” Tom's voice booms smooth as velvet and twice as showy. “It’s a rare thing, what we’re all a part of tonight. Twenty-two years. Twenty-two damn seasons.”
He pauses and lets the room swell with appreciation. “We’re here not just to say farewell, but to say thank you. To a man who built this franchise from grit and stubbornness and a complete disregard for blood pressure medication.”
Laughter bubbles up. Blake smirks next to Dad, who’s trying not to smile but absolutely failing.
Tom paces slightly, holding the mic like he was born with it in hand. “Coach McCullum —he’s been more than a coach. He’s been a leader, a mentor, a lunatic with a clipboard, and sometimes…a father figure. For some of us, literally.”
Riley makes a dramatic fake swipe at her eyes next to me. I jab her with my elbow.
Tom looks over to the VIP table. “McCullum’s passion, his insane work ethic, and the fact that he could terrify an entire locker room with one eyebrow raise is the stuff of legend. He didn’t just build a team. He built a culture. A legacy. And tonight, we celebrate that.”
Applause swells. Tom holds up a hand, motioning toward the stage’s edge.
“And now, to present a special tribute, please welcome the Aces’ chairman, Randall Vaught.”
Randall steps forward like the universe just adjusted its spine. He’s tall and trim in an expensive suit, and the expression of a man who probably drinks his coffee black and files lawsuits for fun.
He grips the mic like it personally owes him money.
“Thank you, Tom.” His voice cuts cleanly through the room. “Tonight is about honoring a man who’s been the backbone of this organization for over two decades. A man who led this team to glory and kept them there. McCullum, would you join me on stage, please?”
There’s a pause. My dad hesitates, just for a second. Then he stands. No swagger. Just takes quiet, heavy steps to the stage.
Randall continues, “On behalf of the entire organization, we present you with this—”
