The t-shirts read like the jerseys at Catholic Youth Organization basketball games, infused with a sense of sportsmanship as a reminder of the greater values at stake both on and off the court.

“Rivals Today, Friends Forever.”

But these are no sixth-graders down at the local parish gym, and the clothing is no hollow Abercrombie-style fashion statement.

Sitting in the stands at Bright Hockey Center, sporting the shirts side by side, are the parents of freshmen Dylan Reese and Grant Lewis, who—if they weren’t on the ice—would likely be equally inseparable in the stands. But right now they’re about as far apart as can be, divided by 87 feet of red line and a battle for ECAC playoff positioning too important to be ignored.

Lewis’ Dartmouth squad has a tenuous hold on a second-place tie—and a first-round bye—while Reese’s Crimson looks to shore up sixth place and a home-ice series.

It’s only the second time the two former teammates have gone toe-to-toe, with their first matchup held earlier in the season in Hanover, N.H. ending in a 2-2 draw. But they’re on course for another first.

“I pinched in, the Harvard [forward] left me,” says Lewis. “I actually hit Dylan, and that was probably the first time we came into contact on the opposite team. It was something small and probably no one noticed, but it was a great feeling.”

Though Reese probably wishes he had been the one to dish out the opening blow, more than a decade of shared experience prevented him from harboring even the shortest of grudges.

Even when he didn’t get the chance to get in a matching lick.

Midway through the 4-0 Harvard victory, Grant broke his thumb and was removed from the contest. He was later taken to a local hospital for evaluation, where Reese, not surprisingly, quickly followed.

“Dylan,” Lewis said, “has always been a big brother to me.”

Ever since they first met, back when they were five-year-old rapscallions living just one block apart, brought together by the friendship between Lewis’ sister and Reese’s brother.

“The first year we moved into our new house,” Reese said, “our families just immediately became best friends.”

Though too young for hockey, the pair became chums, making the short trip to one another’s house a daily adventure.

And as the children bonded, so too did their families, growing so close that the two units would take regular vacations together, sharing a house at the selected destination.

“Our dads talk more than we do on the phone,” Lewis said, “and our moms hang out all the time.”

So when it came time for the pair to don skates and pads for the first time, it was no surprise that they took the step together, playing intramural hockey for four years beginning at the age of seven.

“We started playing hockey—me, Grant and a couple other kids in the neighborhood—and we all kept playing,” Reese said. “There’s Grant and I, and another kid in the national program.”

But when it came time to move onto the next level, it looked like Lewis might be left behind. Though age had been no object during any point in their friendship, the teams for travel hockey were based on year of birth. Reese was born in 1984 and Lewis 1985, but the latter played up to remain alongside his friend.

It was an experience the pair would need to get used to.

Playing together for Upper St. Claire High School, the two skated for the freshman team in seventh grade, junior varsity in eighth and the varsity squad in ninth.

It was an act that opponents grew very tired of very quickly.

“Me and him together,” Lewis said, “combined for 90 percent of our teams points [in seventh grade]. We combined for 21 points in just one game.”

Stunted by the lack of challenging competition, Reese quit before his sophomore season. Lewis played just one more year.

For two years, their paths through the amateur hockey circuit diverged, but their friendship remained unshakable. They weren’t teammates any more on the ice, but running with the same crowd off the ice, little else had changed.

Older and wiser now but still the same good-natured pair who bonded over sandboxes and casual sports, the tandem adjusted its shenanigans to a high-school level.

“Every time the other’s parents would go away,” Lewis said, “the other would stay over and say we were ‘watching the house.’”

While they continued to grow closer off the ice throughout high school, gathering a group of “15 really good friends” around themselves, one final chance remained for the pair to recapture a closeness lost the last time they’d pulled off the same sweater.

Reese, by then a seasoned-veteran of the United States international program, starred for the Pittsburgh Forge of the North American Hockey League, which he had joined one season earlier. Not only would Lewis join him a few weeks into his second season, but they’d be matched up as a blue-line duo as well.

“They paired me with Dylan since he was the best defenseman,” Lewis said. “I slowly worked myself up and we became the best defensive pair.”

With their relationship, it might as well have been a foregone conclusion. How could two best friends not complement one another so well on the ice?

“We’ve almost begun to think the same way,” Lewis said. “We were always on the same page.”

Apparently, it was a page in the league’s record books.

Thriving on the national stage, the two helped lead the Forge to a 43-9-4 record—and a national title.

“Both Dylan and I got pictures of the trophy together, rather than as individuals,” Lewis said. “I don’t know how much of an emotional moment it was, but it meant so much to us, winning the national championship, playing together on the same line.”

Now, facing off for a third time—and with a shot at the NCAA Tournament at stake—it will be equally emotional, but one’s victory will be the other’s bitter defeat, placing these two in very unfamiliar territory.

“As much as we joke about it, about him beating us, I’m looking for revenge, hopefully this weekend,” Lewis said. “But this is the first time the loser will be eliminated. This will end the loser’s season.”

But with all these two have been through together, one thing is certain.

Regardless of which team advances to the ECAC finals with a win tomorrow in Albany, the loser will be in the stands cheering on his friend—just like always.

—Staff writer Timothy J. McGinn can be reached at mcginn@fas.harvard.edu.