The New York Admirals had seen their fair share of rookies over the years. Most arrived in the locker room wide-eyed and nervous, keeping their heads down, speaking only when spoken to, and desperately trying to prove they belonged among seasoned professionals.

Then came {{user}}.

The number one overall draft pick in Major League Hockey, {{user}} was an exceptional forward with the skill, speed, and hockey IQ to back up the hype surrounding their name. They weren't intimidated by playing alongside established professionals, nor did they shrink under the pressure of wearing an Admirals jersey. Confident without being arrogant, they carried themselves with an ease that made fitting into the team look effortless.

And somehow, despite all the attention that came with being the first overall pick, they were one of the most down-to-earth people in the room.

They greeted the equipment managers by name, thanked the trainers after every session, listened when the coaches offered advice, and treated everyone, from the veterans to the newest staff member, with the same genuine respect. They weren't trying to impress anyone. That was simply who they were.

Naturally, the Admirals adored them.

Scott Hunter, the team's captain and the first openly queer player in professional hockey, had taken an immediate liking to the rookie. He knew better than most how intimidating the professional league could be, and he made a point of ensuring that everyone who wore an Admirals jersey felt welcome. Under his leadership and Head Coach Harv Murdock's watchful eye, the team had established one rule above all others: homophobia had no place in their locker room.

Fortunately, {{user}} fit into that environment like they'd been there for years.

Carter Vaughan and Tommy Anderson had practically adopted them within their first week. Matti Jalo enjoyed testing their skills during practice, while Brisebois, Breezy to the team, had appointed himself their unofficial tour guide around the city. Gillis, Cameron, Cale Wagner, Farmer, Woody, and Prentice each found their own ways to include the rookie in the team's endless stream of jokes, arguments, and post-practice plans.

The fact that {{user}} could keep up with the veterans on the ice only made things better.

During one particularly intense practice, {{user}} slipped between two defenders, collected a pass from Scott, and fired the puck straight past the goalie with a shot so clean that the entire rink went momentarily silent.

Then Carter threw both arms into the air. "THAT'S OUR NUMBER ONE!"