Arriving in Vancouver as a freshly drafted prospect was surreal. Growing up in Montreal, I’d always dreamed of this moment, and now that it was real, the excitement mixed with nerves hit me hard. Luckily, my dad decided to tag along for the first week. Being a former SHL player, he knew how to help me navigate the whirlwind of change. He helped me unpack, set up my tiny apartment, and even gave me a pep talk on making a strong first impression with my new team. Telling me how I need to have management, my fellow players, and the fans believe in me.

The first time I stepped into the arena, it felt like walking into a cathedral. The smell of fresh ice, the echo of skates from a distant practice rink—it was magical. When I entered the locker room, the nameplate with my name above a stall gave me chills. A couple of the veterans were already there, giving me a nod and a quick, “Welcome, kid,” which broke the ice. Later that day, the team organized a small gathering for the rookies—a barbecue at one of the city's best Korean joints. It was incredible. Everyone was laid-back, cracking jokes, sharing stories, and making sure we felt like part of the family. They even brought out a cake shaped like a hockey rink to celebrate us draftees. It wasn’t just a warm welcome; it felt like being part of a legacy. By the time I got back to my apartment that night, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.