With 90 seconds left in the second period and the Spirit trailing the Galaxy by one, forward Maya Torres buried a rebound past the goaltender's glove side. Before the red light stopped spinning, a pulsing synth riff tore through the arena speakers. Within seconds, 4,200 fans were on their feet, shouting the chorus in unison: "We own the night, we own the ice!"
This is what happens when "Dancing on the Ice" plays. Since the Spirit adopted the track as their goal song last October, it has transformed from an arena playlist selection into something closer to a team identity—complete with hand-lettered signs in Section 114, a viral TikTok trend, and a home record that has the front office paying attention.
From Playlist Pick to Rallying Cry
The song replaced the Spirit's previous goal anthem, a classic rock staple that had played at Riverside Arena since 2017. By last season's end, players and staff agreed the energy had gone stale.
"We wanted something that felt current but could also become ours," says head coach David Park. "The old song got a reaction. This one gets a response."
Park pushed for the change after noticing how younger players gravitated toward up-tempo tracks in the locker room. The front office auditioned roughly 30 songs before arena DJ Marcus Chen made the final call.
"I picked it because the tempo sits at 128 BPM—fast enough to drive energy, but not so frantic that it feels chaotic," Chen says. "Plus the hook is simple enough that fans picked it up by November."
The genre sits somewhere between electronic pop and arena rock, built around a four-on-the-floor beat, a soaring synthesizer melody, and a chant-friendly chorus that repeats three times before the first verse even begins. That structure is intentional. Chen needed a song that worked in the fragmented moments after a goal, when play stops, replays roll, and the crowd's attention fractures across the building.
The Bench Feels It
The Spirit's home record this season stands at 14-4-2, compared to 9-10-1 on the road. Park won't credit a single song for the gap, but he tracks one telling statistic: the team's five-minute shot differential following home goals.
"We're plus-47 in that window," Park says. "On the road, it's plus-12. Something is happening here after we score, and the environment matters."
Center Emily Johnson, now in her third season with the Spirit, describes the song as a "mental reset" during tight games.
"You're winded, you're trying to process the goal, and then that beat drops," Johnson says. "It snaps everything into focus. You look at the fans, they're jumping, they're singing—and you think, okay, we're doing this together. Let's go get another one."
Johnson says the team has started using the phrase "own the ice" in huddles and postgame interviews. The coaching staff noticed it spreading through the locker room around December. By January, it was printed on T-shirts in the team store.
The Fans Made It Theirs
Sarah Smith has held season tickets in Section 114 since 2019. Last month, she and eight friends spent a weekend painting a banner that now hangs from the railing: "WE OWN IT" in block letters, with a pair of crossed hockey sticks.
"We didn't plan anything," Smith says. "It just happened. Someone started singing the chorus after a goal in November, and by the third period we were all doing it. Now it's a thing. If you sit in our section, you learn the words."
The phenomenon has spread beyond the arena. In February, a local high school hockey team posted a TikTok of their locker room celebration set to "Dancing on the Ice." The video has 2.3 million views. The Spirit's social media team now tracks fan covers and remixes, reposting the best ones during intermission on the jumbotron.
"We didn't anticipate this," says Spirit communications director Rachel Okafor. "We thought we'd found a fun goal song. The fans turned it into a community project."
What Comes Next
The Spirit have clinched a playoff spot with six games remaining, and Chen has already begun planning variations on the song for the postseason—slightly longer intros, a stripped-down instrumental version for overtime wins, and a full-arena light sequence synchronized to the chorus.
Park, for his part, has one request.
"Just don't change it mid-playoff run," he says, laughing. "I've seen enough sports curses. This one's working."
On Saturday night, Torres will take the ice for the Spirit's final regular-season home game. If she scores, the synth riff will drop, the lights will flash, and thousands of voices will rise together. The lyrics will be the
