The smell of the ice, the sound of scraping blades, the stomping of feet, and the cheers from the crowd are a blend as addictive as any opioid out there, and coming down from it can be devastating.

I learned that the hard way about five seconds after Perth Thunder’s last game for the season ended.

I aimlessly wandered the mall with my friend, trying to stuff the void in my heart with ice cream while I felt like a lost lamb searching for her mother. Despite its magical properties to alleviate heartache and General Dumpster Mood Syndrome, the ice cream had no effect on me, except to freeze my insides as effectively as the weather froze my outsides.

I felt the way I always feel when a beloved series I was binging (again) comes to an end, but this time, I couldn’t go back to episode one and rewatch it. Ice cream and self-pity were going to have to do.

We were sitting on a bench in the hallway leading to O’Brien Icehouse when it happened!

The enemy appeared and walked past us!

They had no idea of the danger they were in… uhm… would’ve been in if I were not such a well-behaved, gentle creature—at least on the outside. I allowed them to pass unharmed and unaware of how lucky they were. They were very lucky! Honestly!

God did the world a great service when He packaged me in this innocuous body and then made it grow older and lazy.

No, talking garbage is probably not one of the symptoms of ice hockey withdrawal, but as I’m kindly demonstrating in this rant, the natural tendency could be exacerbated by the lack of that ice, blades, and cheers I mentioned.

Seeing these players pass by, I realised that our team might still be in the arena too and might need all the love they could get—just like me. So, we joined the small group of equally forlorn Thunder family gathered on the steps outside, hoping that a kind smile might bring some warmth to the cold night.

I’m a naturally reserved person—unless you hand me something to write with—smiling and waving is about as demonstrative as I usually get. It was therefore startling to find out that I instantly turn into a pretty loud extrovert for a few seconds whenever Perth Thunder scored a goal. Don’t get me started on the beast that rears its head when someone does something nasty to one of our guys bravely fighting the war out there on the ice.

My motherly instincts kick into overdrive… it’s not pretty.

Well, nobody was scoring any goals or making foul moves outside the ice arena, so, from the comfort of my cage, I docilely watched the team members make an appearance. Though lowkey, the few minutes spent seeing them unite with their loved ones and talking to some of us did me (and others in a similar state) a lot of good.

Hopefully, it cheered the team up too.

I was thrilled when Alex Roach came over to talk to us and when my friend dragged my shy butt into a chat with Jordy Kyros. I also got to meet a lovely woman (whose name I didn’t even think to ask at the time), and Aidan Pasznicki, who was suffering from the same ailment as me. I enjoyed hearing their thoughts, and it was encouraging to see everybody smile through their pain.

During the NHL season, one thing that rubbed me the wrong way big time was seeing the hateful way in which the “supporters” treated their teams. I stopped reading fan comments on posts, as they’d clearly forgotten that they were dealing with human beings and not just pawns on an icy chessboard. Perhaps the kind of warm interaction the Perth Thunder team members have with their supporters would be helpful over there to remind them.

Which brings me to another reason why I love the Perth Thunder fan-family.

The first time I attended a game where the Thunder did not win, I was genuinely scared of the crowd’s reaction, as I didn’t know what to expect and still had the toxic NHL supporters fresh in my mind. I told my friend that I was going down to the glass at the edge of the balcony to bang it and cheer for the Thunder guys, even if I had to do it alone and end up looking like an idiot.

I truly expected the same kind of rotten treatment I’d seen in the NHL and nearly cried with joy (yeah, I’m unashamedly dramatic and emotional) when the response to the team was no different than the previous games where they’d won.

That was the moment when I realised without a doubt that this is a community where I could possibly feel at home.

While I wait for the summer league to truly take off and search for a team or two I could get behind—perhaps volunteer to lend a hand where needed, if they’ll have me—I’m happy to reflect on the highlights (and the lows) of the past season, which brought so much joy into my life.

Though coming down from the high of watching games and interacting with fans and players hit me unexpectedly hard, I’m looking forward to going through it again next year! Yeah, I’m a glutton for punishment. I’m saving up to go to the finals again and am stocking up on tissues for the aftermath—those first dark weeks of no ice hockey.

A sincere thank you to Perth Thunder (players, fans, and everyone who worked hard behind the scenes to make it happen) for bringing some magic into our lives!

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