My earliest memories of music are tied to my dad. Whether my dad’s singing in his pick-up work band or showing me records he stores in our basement, my relationship with music would be significantly different without him.

 When I was just starting to play hockey as a kid, I remember driving to early morning weekend practices and cross-ice scrimmages at Pingree. On those drives, my dad would play all sorts of music, trying to figure out what my younger self enjoyed. My dad playing these songs for me is my first memory of music, and although I didn’t really get into music until much later in my life, the songs he played still bring me back to those moments today.

 “Night Visions” by Imagine Dragons will always bring me back to those days. Although the band has earned a reputation for their newer, repetitive tracks, their earlier work feels more authentic. Before they went mainstream with songs like “Radioactive” amassing billions of streams, Imagine Dragons produced some surprisingly good music. Personal nostalgia aside, “Night Visions” has some truly original tracks. Tracks like “Selene” scream early 2010s alternative or indie, with catchy melodies, a driven beat throughout the song and excellent vocal work by Dan Reynolds — which has made it one of my favorite songs to revisit this year.

 Each hockey season, I feel weighed down by nerves before games with no reliable way to calm them down. This season, I’ve had trouble dealing with expectations: It’s been tough for me to grasp being a senior and feeling like I have to be perfect on the ice.

 Recently, however, I’ve been thinking bigger-picture and reflecting on why I play hockey in the first place. I’ve never been a music-before-games type of athlete. Whenever I would try to pump myself up and listen to my own music, I’d put on some rap or some hype music to try to get myself excited, but mentally, it made no difference.

“I thought of my dad and the constant sacrifices he made for me to play hockey throughout my childhood.”

 After a frustrating personal performance in our first of two games in one day, I decided to take a step back. I forgot who we were playing next, how sore I felt and how nervous I was to make more mistakes like the previous game. I put my AirPods in and listened to “Night Visions,” and it worked.

 I thought of my dad and the constant sacrifices he made for me to play hockey throughout my childhood. It reminded me of 6 a.m. mornings as a seven-year-old: my dad making breakfast, packing my hockey bag and driving me thirty minutes from Marblehead to Pingree, just to watch me goofily skate around and whack a puck here and there. I remembered how he’d always pull into the Dunkin’ off the Lynnway after practice and get me a hot chocolate, whipped cream on top and a little bit of milk, no matter how I played that day.

 Outside of hockey, my dad and I still communicate through music. In the car, we take turns playing songs. I don’t like every song he plays; he doesn’t always like mine, but I always cherish how excited he is to share them with me.