Option 1 Written

There's a lot to unpack here considering Celly's career has hardly even gotten off the ground. So they stare at these kids, bewildered by the knowledge that's being imparted to them. And this kid- this kid!- who's just executed the cleanest top-shelf snipe of all time from what might as well be the blue line when it comes to pond hockey, is clearly Something to them in the future.
And so when the kid stops in front of them, wide eyed and struggling to avoid snowing them on the stop, Celly just laughs. "Don't focus too hard on hockey," they say, voice carrying over the ice. "Try some other sports. Take care of yourself. Don't make any decisions too early. You'll know when it's time."
The kid nods fiercely, nearly dropping his stick in his efforts to make it clear that he's listening. Celly smiles, reaches out to gently thump him on the top of his helmet, and then they're whisked away.

(They're gifted another brief vision, of themselves in the far future, out on a pond of their own and laughing as they teach a different little boy to skate, another figure calling out to them from the edge of the ice.) 
(And another, of themself again, even further in the future, coaching him as he stands in front of the net in goalie pads for the first time.)

(And then they wake up.)