Owen Nei is not supposed to be here.

Owen Nei is not supposed to be on the ice or the baseball field. 

Owen Nei is not supposed to be crashing the net, leading the backcheck, shagging fly balls, or fielding grounders.  

From the ultrasound technician that first alerted Owen's parents to his medical condition known as aqueductal stenosis, to the doctors that can't sign off on him playing full-contact Bantam hockey, Owen has no shortage of people that he's proved wrong.

In addition to aqueductal stenosis that led to the diagnosis of hydrocephalus, Owen was also diagnosed with Goldenhar syndrome, which according to the Gillette Children's Hospital, can be described as "a rare congenital condition characterized by incomplete development of the ear, nose, lip, and jaw."

During his mother's pregnancy, doctors weren't sure if he was brought to term that he would survive, and if he did, the Nei family would face a myriad of challenges.  

The greatest indictment of those doubts and doubters was on full display Thursday night, as Charles M. Schulz filled with hundreds of supporters for St. Paul hockey's "spirit animal."

Before a standing-room-only crowd, many of whom wielding red signs bearing the nickname "O-DAWG" in blue letters, Owen Nei scored a goal and helped his Caps to a shutout win over the Baldwin Blackhawks, completing his final game at the arena he grew up in, and the place that he and the St. Paul hockey community affectionately refer to as "The Chuck."

After the game, the Blackhawks met Owen at center ice, sharing hugs and hand-slaps. The Capitals saluted the supporters who came out in droves, and Owen and his family graciously accepted St. Paul Mayor Melvin Carter's proclamation that the day is named "Owen Nei Day."

But back to "The Chuck."

Owen has probably spent more time at "The Chuck" than his Highland Park home. His father, Chris, has coached several teams in the St. Paul Capitals youth association. Older brother Jack teamed with 2020 Minnesota Mr. Hockey finalist Matthew Gleason to win back-to-back Peewee A state championships.

Owen knows the building's nooks and crannies, exploring the two-rink facility with his band of buddies that he's cultivated in his time with the Capitals program. 

"Probably the tunnel, or as we call it, the 'Tunnel of Death,'" Owen grins when asked where his favorite spot in the building is located. "It's kinda scary when it's dark, and you can't see anything."

Owen met his best friend in that tunnel. 

"One time, I punched my brother's teammate's brother, and we've been best friends (ever since)," Owen says candidly. 

YHH was not alone in its quest to capture last night's festivities. Camera crews from KARE 11 and KSTP followed Owen from hallway to hallway. He sat down for interviews with no less than four media outlets, with spotlights and microphones galore. 

He did so with grace and candor, a sense of humor and humility. He complimented a reporter's Nikes before heading down to the Cretin-Derham Hall boys hockey locker room, which housed his peewee teammates for the evening. 

Just outside that room, with the bass thumping and his teammates' nonstop banter and laughter heard clearly in the recording, Owen let YHH know a few things. 

He said he'd like Minnesota Wild General Manager Bill Guerin to lock up Kirill Kaprizov to a long-term contract.

He said his beloved Cretin-Derham Hall Raiders were going all the way this year, but they needed to buckle it down before the section playoffs.

He said that growing up with role models like his brother Jack and Matt Gleason was a gift.  

He said that his father being behind the bench with him is the best thing ever. 

He said that sharing the night with his teammates meant everything to him.

And when he was asked if he was ready to leave the media attention behind for the night, he answered swiftly and sincerely, armed with his trademark smile. 

"Yeah, I just wanna play."