“Oh, it’s pretty mild outside, just around 100 degrees or so. It was worse last week.” 

My mouth dropped open, and I could do nothing but stare at our Uber driver. It seemed unreal, and as I walked outside and felt the heat hit me like a blast from an oven, surrounded by palm trees, glittering glass, and metal buildings towering into the sky, I couldn’t help but run for cover, holing myself up in the nearest building, which, to nobody’s surprise, was a casino. Well, when in Vegas…, I thought, eyeing the nearest slot machine jokingly. After all, 90% of gamblers quit before winning big or something like that.

 

“Absolutely not.” Following my gaze, my mom and I both burst out laughing together. “We already lost $200 because of the airline.”

 

I thought about that, the memory bringing back the stress I felt three days ago. Earlier this year, in April, I received an invitation to attend the main camp of the Tri-City Storm, a team playing in the United States Hockey League (USHL), the best non-professional junior league in North America. A day before the camp was scheduled to start, as my mother and I boarded the plane to Las Vegas, we received some unwelcome news.

 

“Unfortunately, we are going to have to deplane everyone from this aircraft. Your pilots are illegal, and we are working on finding you new pilots. Thank you for your cooperation and sorry for the inconvenience.” I still think I misheard that statement, and if I heard correctly, I still have no idea – and I’m not sure I want to know – what the flight attendant meant by “your pilots are illegal.” I panicked. Such an amazing opportunity, and I was going to miss it because a plane didn’t take off on time. 

 

Sitting in the airport for the next two hours was nothing short of torturous, but we finally got a pilot, and the weather cleared up enough for us to take off. When we landed in Vegas six long hours later, at around 11 pm, I breathed a sigh of relief. Far too soon, as I would quickly realize that the airline had left my sticks back in New York. Luckily, the rink had a pro shop selling sticks, so with a brand new $200 stick and six hours of sleep, I prepared to play against some of the top 16-21-year-olds in the country. 

 

The camp itself was a fantastic experience. I scored a goal and had an assist and impressed the Tri-City staff enough to earn myself a place in the top prospects game. While there, I also ran into a teammate from Groton, Alejandro ‘26, who also received an invite to the camp. Given that this was just two weeks after final exam week, we had a lot to talk about, but not a lot of it was about school. 

 

After the top prospects game in the evening, my mom and I had a day to do whatever we wanted in Vegas, as our flight was a red-eye the night after. So, early (read 11 am) the following day, we set out onto the strip, which brings me back to that scene of myself staring at a slot machine in the Bellagio. 

 

The rest of the day passed by in a haze. Deep dish pizza on the street. Shopping at Caesars Palace and enjoying the miniature Eiffel Tower replica. Seeing the fountains at the Bellagio. But by the time it was over, and we were seated on our flight home (thankfully, no more airline or airplane issues), I was exhausted. 

 

Though I played well, I ended up not making Tri-City’s team. And yet, it was one of the best experiences of my life. I got to compete against some very good players, explore the Vegas Strip, and meet up with one of my friends from Groton. But most importantly, I learned an important lesson from this trip.

 

When things go wrong that are out of your control, don’t get mad and stress about it. Be calm and focus on what you can do to make the best out of the situation, and everything else will take care of itself.