#I can also see how this team ruined another players hockey career

[remedy7411]

I have a lot of feelings about how negative commentators are about the stars losing vs how positive they are about the Krak*n losing. A lot of feelings!

[stereax]

Hi anon! Just hopped onto my computer so I can type quickly. Let's do this. Side note - I love these kinds of asks, because it means I get to do my favoritest thing: ramble about hockey.

@sportsthoughts, sorry if this annoys you! @reavenedges-lies, thanks for the ping!

Prospects and the NHL: A Story

Let's play a game. I'll give you a few quotes. You tell me who these are about.

"A dynamic, game-breaking talent. He can create offence on his own and will be a difference-maker in the NHL. He will be a star in the NHL."

"Arguably the best prospect available. … First and foremost is his skating. He maintains a low centre of gravity, great strength in his lower body and his quick footwork gives him exceptional acceleration. … The release on his shot is powerful and accurate."

Which NHL player were these glowing draft-era reports about? Sidney Crosby? Connor Bedard?

Nope. Nail Yakupov.

That Nail Yakupov, the notorious 1OA draft bust from 2012. Some say it was a personality issue. Some say his skill just couldn't translate. Yakupov himself blames a lot of it on coaches not teaching him at the NHL level.

His stats? 350GP, 62G, 74A, 136P, over 6 seasons.

Here's another one.

"I don't see any vulnerability or weakness in his game. He's so big, so strong, with great hockey sense, and he's totally unselfish. I think he'll be an A-plus, franchise player."

"He's got size, speed and skill up the middle, and that's just hard to find in one package."

Who is this? Connor McDavid? Nate MacKinnon?

Nope. Nolan Patrick.

That Nolan Patrick, the 2OA draft "bust" from 2017. Now, NolPat's reason for flaming out is patently obvious: a migraine disorder that ruined his chance at an NHL career before it even really got going. This is why I also really hate calling him a "bust" - he's not a bust in the way Yakupov or Stefan or Daigle were. He just couldn't play any more.

His stats? 222GP, 32G, 45A, 77P, over 4 seasons.

Both of these prospects were arguably "rushed" to the NHL. This "rushing" did not help and certainly might have destroyed Yakupov's, if not Patrick's, careers. This is why nowadays, there is massive wariness of calling up rookies before they're ready. Back in the 1980s, 90s, and so on, the league was young and rookies were coming in young. One can partially attribute this to the very North American-ness of the league back then, or the many expansion teams that drove average player age down, or the relative instability of the minor leagues of hockey. Nowadays, with a fairly constant team number, things are different. You don't want to push a kid to the NHL at 18 and see him leave the league by 25. From a business standpoint, it's a waste of an asset; from a personal standpoint, you could ruin someone's life.

Hockey is a complicated sport. There are a bunch of factors in "NHL readiness" that pundits and others debate about endlessly. I'll cover a few here for you.

European versus North American ice.

North American ice is often referred to as "smaller" than international ice. This is especially true east-west, where NHL rinks are 85% of the size of international ones. This fundamentally changes how a team can play and creates a "smaller" and "faster" game in the NHL. For prospects who played in Europe, this change in rink dimensions takes adjusting. Some can't do it and flame out at the minor league level in the Americas, then go back to Europe and play like stars there. Take Leon Gawanke of the DEL's Adler Mannheim as an example here. Despite being a relatively good offensive defenseman in the minor leagues, he could never "put it together" on North American ice enough to get a call-up to the NHL. He's now the Adler's poster child.

Play without the puck.

This is one of the biggest things coaches emphasize at the sub-NHL level. Anyone can get a puck and score. If you watch CHL/NCAA hockey, you'll see that there is a veritable plethora of kids who can put a puck in a net. It's important to recognize that there are only so many top-line players in the NHL, though. Many times, you draft a player, possibly in the first round, and you expect they'll be a top-six player, but it turns out that they can't do that at the NHL level. Curtis Lazar, for example, put up 76 points in 58 games his final pre-NHL season. When he joined the Senators, the idea was second-line center. Patrice Bergeron was a comparable. Turns out that he could only solidify his role as a fourth-liner because of his ability to play even when the puck wasn't on his stick. One of the most important things a player can do is know how to play without the puck. You have the puck approximately 1/10 of the time, if there are 10 players on the ice. What are you doing the other 90%? Are you putting yourself and your team in a good position to win? Or are you a liability on the ice?

Physicality.

The NHL is a very hit-forward league. To most people, this is not news. However, for prospects, this is an important thing to learn. Most prospects play in leagues that have little to no checking. Their heads are protected with "fishbowl" helmets; they are not taught how to take a hit. On one hand, this is good: we clearly do not want kids suffering concussions, developing CTE, and so on. On the other hand, this is leading to a rash of young players in the NHL who cannot take hits and are very easily injured. There are about thirty good examples of this (half the 2019 draft class) but I'll choose Jamie Drysdale for this one. The glass bones paper skin meme applies to all of them. What good is a player who is constantly on IR? This is also a discussion being held in the PWHL - female hockey players almost never play in checking leagues, now the PWHL is allowing checks, why is everyone hurt. Oftentimes, a little marinating in the AHL can help teach players how to deal with hits before hitting the NHL level.

Level of competition.

This is generally the main thing we talk about when we talk about NHL readiness. Just because a CHL/NCAA player carves through the competition at the junior level does not mean they will do so at the NHL level. Heck, look at Brendan Shinnimin, CHL player of the year in 2012, who put up 134 points in 69 games in the WHL. He only ever played 12 games at the NHL level. (For context, Sidney Crosby won the same award in 2004 by putting up 135 points.) The NHL is a much trickier league. The players are literally the best in the world. Even that 13th forward who sits in the press box most nights is one of the best in the world. A cool spinny move can work against 17- and 18-year olds. It won't work against Jaccob Slavin.

The ELC.

Sometimes a player actually is NHL ready but they're not called up. This can be a highly frustrating process for many. Say, Simon Nemec, who spent last year in the AHL transitioning from European hockey to North American hockey. He could not make the opening night roster this year, despite being better than probably every RHD on the roster not named Dougie Hamilton. Nemec himself expressed frustration, saying he believed he was NHL ready. His big break? When Dougie went down with a season-ending pectoral injury. Only then could he find a spot on the roster. It's not that he wasn't better than Brendan Smith. It's because of his contract. See, when you sign a young enough player to an entry-level contract (ELC), you can slide that contract to extend one or two years if they do not play enough NHL games. This can be incredibly useful when, for example, you're up against the cap and want to extend the amount of time a player is on an ELC to delay the cap hit of a big contract.

So, to summarize: There are a ton of details that go into assessing whether a prospect is NHL ready. Rushing a player to the NHL level can have disastrous effects. This is why you generally see NHL prospects, even super-high-level ones, try to "cook" in the AHL first. Your only real exceptions are your 1OAs, who (almost) always go straight to the NHL. Sometimes, non-1OAs do this too (Fantilli and Carlsson from 2023), but it's very situational - Carlsson, for example, was playing limited games at the beginning of his season. And many of these 1OAs suffer from going directly to the NHL - Slafkovsky is a prime example of this. So it's a big question mark at this point, and one of the reasons why NHL teams are very concerned about "NHL readiness". They don't want to play a player in the NHL until they're prepared, skill- and mentality-wise, to do so.

I hope this helps you, anon, and whoever else needs it!

NHL-wide thought: it's funny how when a team has reached it's expiration date they call for a retool to get younger and refresh the roster to compete. but when they see prospects doing so well before coming in the show, they're like "but does his game translate well to the NHL???" or "is he NHL ready?" What really is the deal about prospects and why is there so much stigma about them despite the need to rebuild at some point?

good question, anon! I would like to know the answer to this too, but sadly I am here exclusively for the shits, giggles and pretty faces so am probably not the best person to ask.

I would suggest asking... perhaps @reavenedges-lies @coffee-at-annies or @idontlikeem all of whom i think know far more about Proper Hockey Stuff!

[whoacanada]

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

____________

____________

Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.��

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

____________

____________

____________

They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

___________

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

__________

Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

________

________

________

There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.�� The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

__________

__________

[falsegoodnight]

this is part two of my december fic rec! this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 18th to the 28th!! it’s also my birthday today which makes it even more special! i can think of no better way to spend today than spreading positivity! :)

you can find part one of this month here

✰ there’s happiness because of you by @hadestyles | NR | 1k - (so soft, tender, and beautiful!! rori’s writing amazes me always! and this was written for my birthday because they’re an angel <3)

Thursday mornings have always been their favourite.

✰ and it gets colder and colder by @hadestyles | E | 2K - (another rori fic!! once again, beautiful prose! made me feel emotional!)

Harry wants to take care of Louis. Things take a turn.

✰ make my wish come true by @soldouthaz | M | 3k - (drabble from this series) (so cute, lovely, soft, amazing!!! made my heart so happy! this is also dedicated to me which :’) sarah angel chant)

The taste of Christmas cookies fresh out of the oven and peppermint hot chocolate is still heavy on his tongue. Harry’s sweater provides some warmth and it still smells of him from before he left for his internship two weeks ago, but it’s nowhere near the feeling of his arms wrapped around him. Louis shivers despite the blankets.

✰ spirit meets the bones by @hadestyles​ | E | 3k - (i had to edit to add this because rori wrote another beautiful little fic for me :’) beautiful prose, beautiful emotions, so so so beautiful, gosh. pure poetry!)

The action shouldn’t fill his eyes with tears but it does. These small gestures mean the world to him. A steady reminder that Harry does notice all the tiny, seemingly insignificant details that make Louis him.

✰ 29 Blows by @quelquesetoiles | E | 4k - (super hot but also so cute!! love the concept of the birthday tradition in this one!!!)

For over a decade now, Harry has had his little tradition. It wouldn't be a Louis Tomlinson birthday without his best friend finding new, ingenious ways to make his life more difficult.

It's cute, it's funny, it's theirs, until Harry takes it a step too far on Louis' 29th birthday.

✰ calm me down (before i sleep) by @erodiansunflower | E | 7k - (a pwp and super hot, but also super cute??)

Prompt 24: Harry is a sex shop owner that has a crush on Louis, the shy customer who flirts with him while buying cute buttplugs, lace panties, and collars. One day, Louis asked Harry to help him put on a corset (they end up fucking in the dressing room). Things escalate quickly from there, so they start seeing each other seriously while trying other sex stuff.

✰ You’re Never Alone With a Moon This Bright by @helloamhere | T | 8k - (part one of this series) (WOW this was incredible and i am ENTRANCED! this author is an all-time favorite and idk why it took me so long to get to this series but i’m here now!! and loving it!!)

Louis was a monster. But sometimes, even monsters get a Christmas.

✰ Be a Good Girl For Me by @sincetheywere16and18 | E | 9k - (really hot and cute!!!)

Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”

✰ it’s hard to fight naked by @loustarlight | E | 11k - (LOVED this so much!!! a big fan of enemies/flatmates to lovers especially when there’s a walk-in involved!!)

Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.

✰ Sweet Scary Creatures by @specklelouis | M | 13k - (jurassic park au!! so cute and fun!!! loved louis’ character growth in this in particular!)

They stare into each other's eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harry’s hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.

✰ hereafter (ad infinitum) by @larryent | M | 13k - (this was absolutely beautiful!! the writing was incredible, the contrast between the old timeline and new one impeccable, and the letters!!! love them!! and vampire harry is always a win!)

"A legacy is every life you’ve touched. And you’ve touched mine twice."

On the coast of San Francisco in 2024 is when Harry falls in love all over again.

✰ Believe Me When I Say You Have It All by @helloamhere | T | 20k - (part two of this series) (loved this even more than it’s predecessor. not to be dramatic, but i’d die for the louis and harry in this series. this whole world has my heart)

Harry had never faced anything in this forest that had actually succeeded in scaring him. Louis was no exception.

✰ Yours to Lose by @loulicate-recs | M | 26k - (so cute and soft and sweet!!! louis and harry were both angels and IAN <3 little cutie!!! so proud of you hanis!)

Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

✰ But It’s Useless by @thinlinez | E | 26k - (this put such a big smile on my face!! so cute and lovely!! louis was a relatable and adorable menace and harry was a smitten idiot but they both got there in the end!!)

Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.

✰ Stuck On You by Writewhatiwant | E | 34k - (so so sweet! loved the aspect of stickers in this fic and how louis found joy in them!! really loved how both louis and harry (especially harry) grew throughout this story and how they found peace at the end!)

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

✰ smoke between your teeth by @soldouthaz | E | 37k - (i think everyone knows how much i adore sarah and her fics but this one just might be a new favorite! loved all the psych stuff, the pining, the rom-com worthy confession <3 brilliant!)

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

✰ Your Life Worth Walking on a Bright Morning by @helloamhere | T | 38k - (part three of this series) (it just keeps getting better and better <3 so comforting and consistent and beautiful!)

For all its complexity, Louis sometimes reminded himself, life could always be simplified into a series of forks in the road. Even overwhelmingly big things were survivable when you broke them down to their choice. One path or the other, left or right.

✰ On The Edge by @zanniscaramouche | E | 47k - (so crazy good!! zanni is always amazing me!! loved the ice skating, the hockey, the misunderstandings, the multi-faced and beautiful characters and relationships - all so perfect!)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

✰ made for lovin’ you by @cuddlerlouis | E | 53k - (loved this so much!! touch depri/accidental bonds are my favorite and this was no exception!!! the characterizations, the tension, the misunderstandings, the tenderness, the fluff!!! so good!)

A quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

✰ social cues by @outropeace | E | 56k - (so fucking good!! the slow burn in this was impeccable!!! pair it with friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, misunderstandings... amazing <3)

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

✰ dripping like spider milk by @raspberryoatss | E | 64k - (pip amazing me with her talent? a common occurrence. this was so wonderfully written and so well done!! loved the characterizations, the dynamic, the angst, the miscommunication, the pining, the HUMOR!!! it was all so amazing!!)

When he sees the alpha, his brown hair curling around the top of his neck and his broad back that’s filled out over the past couple of years, Louis freezes for a moment. The alpha turns around, Louis’ surprised expression mirrored on his own for a fraction of a second before he schools it into a big, yet shy grin and a wave of his huge hand. With his nostrils flared, Louis knows that he can smell him, too.

They never hired alphas, except for—

“Harry.”

✰ a taste of freedom and sweetened passion by @tomlinvelvetfics | M | 74k - (okay technically haven’t finished reading this one yet but i want to get this up early and i already know this is amazing because it’s LATE and she’s incredible!!! and, i mean, anne of green gables?? abo?? best birthday gift ever!! will be spending the day reading this in bliss <3)

“Are you mad?” he explodes, throwing his hands up, groaning. “I was so, so close to reaching my goal, and your stupid, stalking ass had to creep up on me, hm?”

Harry is trying to keep his laughter in, walking closer to him, eyes soft. He doesn’t like the way those eyes make him feel, an odd, dangerous mix of nervous and flustered, so he bends down to pick up the books, raising an eyebrow when Harry growls in protest.

“I wanted to pick them up for you,” the alpha pouts, and Louis glares at him, getting into position and lowering the pile of yellowed pages over the top of his head.

“I’m a functional human being, thank you very much,” he grits out as he begins to walk and mentally count the amount of steps he takes. One, two, three, for heaven’s sake Harry fuck off!, four, five. He doesn’t let himself be distracted as the alpha walks along with him despite the slow pace, green eyes focused on him in a way that would, in any other cases, compelled him to throw a book in the alpha’s face.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t do it and certainly doesn’t want to think about the reason, whatever it might be.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[camilliar]

I've just reread ~get the wine pairings~ which is one of the best zimbits fics I've ever read and I was wondering if you're currently working/planning any new omgcp fics? I really love your writing 🙈

Ahhhhhhh wow thank you, there are so many Zimbits fics to choose from, and you chose the one I wrote while my OMGCP AO3 account was still a sock I never planned to link to because it was too many kinks pasted together. I’m very flattered. I’m still weirdly pleased with that fic!

To answer you question -- which I’m also very flattered anyone would ask? -- I've got two OMGCP fics that’ll be going up in the next, like, month:

You may have seen me insanely blogging about this AU where everyone’s getting MFAs at Samwell. In theory, ideally, I guess this would be like a loose collaborative series me and @tomatowrites both write in? (If she wants to/has time to?) I’ve very near done with the first fic in this series, like, one to five paragraphs away from being done and passing it on to a beta. It’s a PBJ sex fic set over Labor Day weekend; Bitty thinks he’s getting into one thing (group sex) but he’s actually getting into something else. It doesn’t get that much into the MFA part of things but I hope it does an okay job introducing the general themes around the Parse + Bitty stories in the AU? Lots of ???? because I’m just so excited about this entire thing. Please send me + Tomato asks about MFA stuff, I’m obsessed with and I want everyone else to be, also.

I’m also doing @omgcpheartbreakfest, and that fic is due on August 5 and should be posting ... a week later? Ish? Because it’s a blind fest I ought not divulge too much about it, but it’s an idea I’ve wanted to write out for a while, so I’m looking forward to finishing this over the next week or two.

and then OH GOD this list continues:

After those two I’ll probably switch gears to finish up this infamous South Park fic. Further afield, I did start an Ollie/Wicks fic that could be conceptually interesting but a) what is the audience? and b) do I really want to expend energy on digging into the tone and keeping the tone on point? More problematic is that these characters do not have personalities or even biographical information to transform into a story, so it’s tough to know what their relationship would even be like? I guess what I’m saying is I’m not sure if I want to follow through on this. Earlier today, actually, I took a look at it convinced I was going to scrap it -- but I also felt like there was something there that made me almost wistful for whatever conviction I had for this story when I started it. We’ll see where that goes.

Two big fics I have wanted to write in this fandom for a long, long time, like nearly as long as I’ve been in the fandom:

An AU where Jack’s OD is fatal, and a few years into the future his mother has established a foundation in his memory, to which she’s recruited Parse to sit on the board, which requires that he help fund the foundation. The foundation creates a scholarship for a hockey player at Samwell, and Parse is asked to advise the selection process, which results in Bitty being offered the inaugural award. The problem, however, is that Bitty is terrified of checking and if he doesn’t make it on this team, there’s a chance SMH might ultimately reject the gift -- and if this pilot program fails, Jack’s mom is gonna, like, have a breakdown. So Parse decides to intervene to make sure Bitty doesn’t get cut? Long story short, endgame Bitty/Parse, with the basic tension coming from what everyone’s lost if Jack isn’t in their lives: the team dynamic is totally different! Bitty thinks Jack is a selfish monster who ruined the lives of everyone around him, but Parse maintains that Bitty didn’t know him. The Bob/Alicia relationship is almost irreparably frayed and Parse finds himself in the middle of it because they both refuse to let him go! In a lot of ways it’s a story about Jack, although Jack is very dead for all of it. If done properly I would love to get into some of the tough politics around, like, money in US higher ed and some politics around wealth generally.

I have mentioned a few times that I want to write a “normal” not-edgelord Zimbits fic, and that would be an AU where Jack gets a PhD in history instead of going into the NHL -- so it’s basically canon-divergent from the start of Y2, where Jack decides that, for his own mental health, he can’t do professional hockey. The fic is set over the summer of 2017, at which point Jack is preparing to take his exams, write a dissertation prospectus, and start teaching in the fall. He’s at an impasse with his advisor, however, who doesn’t want him to write a social history of hockey because that’s a second book project, not a dissertation. While that’s happening, Bitty’s just graduated college and moved back in with his parents while Jack tries to find them an apartment in Boston -- which he’s having some trouble doing since Bitty doesn’t have a job lined up and Jack’s income is like, a graduate stipend. The conflicts in this story come from circumstances external to the Jack/Bitty relationship, and center around Jack’s doubts about his ability and desire to follow through on his stated goals, especially considering he’s deeply uncompromising. I’ve seen so many arguments that Jack would be so great at grad school or being a professional academic and it’s like, yes, in some ways, he would be; I can see him doing good archival research, or moving through the degree requirements in a PhD program, because he’s goal-oriented and willing to put the work in. But! He’s fucking awkward and so much of this field is just ... networking? Collaborating? Taking advice? Listening? Taking social cues? He had this idea about what kind of dissertation he was going to do, and why is he being told no? Can Jack take “no”? Can he adapt? A random woman has been showing up to his beer league games -- maybe this degree wasn’t the right path after all?

Then, all the way down at the bottom here, it’s like, I have sooo many incomplete Greerverse and lady Jack fics, many of them in the 500-3k range, but some of them in the 15k range, which is like, wow, that’s a lot of unfinished fic! The most profitable of these would be Jack and Bitty taking a 15-year anniversary vacation traveling around Europe for six weeks, which Jack unceremoniously kicks off by announcing a desire to transition--and then saying nothing about it for the duration of the trip while Bitty tries to work out how he feels about this, never mind what Jack even wants.

Aaaand last and probably also least, I’ve got like 15k each of an a/b/o fic I tried to write for Tomato and another 15k of a fic where a career- ending injury leads Jack to reassess his entire relationship with his body and therefore he winds up getting a little drag-curious, and it was fun writing about like, Jack moping around the house on crutches feeling sorry for himself, but also the fic has an OC who’s a big part of the story and I just didn’t feel that guy or care to write about him so I quit! Maybe I should scrap those things, along with the rest of this mpreg fic.

So that’s where I’m at ficwise right now! Who knows a) when the things further down this list would see the light of days, and b) which other crazy ideas will crop up that I have to write in the interim?

Thank you so much for asking! I love chatting about my fic, please ask any time.

[paleononnie]

"Dallasstarstea" is a lying delusional cunt. Shows how dense people must be that they are actually asking her for facts and... worse, ADVICE on shit. She needs a MUZZLE.

Yeah. I'm not impressed by her. I mean if you're from Canada, odds are you either know a NHL player (a former coworker had a relatively short career in the NHL as a goalie with the North Stars, another former coworker is cousins with a former Star), related to one (my mom's cousin played with the Habs), dated someone in the business (worked for the local WHL team which has sent on more than a few to the NHL) or know someone who does (another guy I dated was good friends with a NHL player from our city's family, my cousin's son in law was on teams growing up with local guys who went on to play in the NHL).

That being said, that doesn't give me any particular insider knowledge or insight beyond paying attention. Do you hear something through the grapevine maybe a little more than the average fan? Sure but I don't claim to be something more.

As for "dredge water" and her daisy chain of supposed insiders, nothing they've shared is some how sooper sekrit. It's when they start claiming insider knowledge is when shit falls apart. When called to provide proof, another one of them chimes in that they've seen the evidence and can confirm which of course is no proof at all. The rare times they do provide "proof" it's up for mere seconds before it's pulled right back down, likely because they know it wouldn't pass the smell test or that they're opening themselves up to a defamation lawsuit if it's fake and if not, none of them strike me as being savvy enough to know how to hide their tracks like say whoever grabbed Leipsic and his idiot brother's shitacular discussions. (Aside: granted in that case, I suspect someone in their group finally realized that the discussion was out of hand and a bridge too far not that they were actually hacked but that's what I mean when I say observation and paying attention is the bigger resource.)

I've been in fandom (hockey and otherwise) a long time because I'm Old™ and I've seen it all before. Nothing she shares is particularly insightful and a lot of it is just juvenile and hilariously wrong. I've mentioned before how she supposedly *knows* that Bennguin fanfic had ruined Jamie and Tyler's friendship not that Jamie started dating Katie, Tyler developed his own circle of friends in Dallas, they no longer lived in the same condo building, a dozen more plausible reasons for why they might not have been hanging out outside of work as much as when Tyler first got to Dallas.

(Now is it possible that the front office was concerned that the bromance angle might turn off conservative fans in Texas? Maybe, if we go by their history of underwhelming Hockey is for Everyone nights. But considering Stars PR tease it every once and awhile still if not as heavily as when Tyler first got there makes me believe that it's not as big of an issue as some people would have you believe.)

I think she's an idiot and while I think Jamie would have likely become his normal social media recluse that he's been since even before Bunch Moxgate with any break up under normal circumstances even for a NHL player, the absolute shit show she created which sent booger eating morons to DM Katie about what happened was beyond the pale.

I also have my suspicions as to why things were done the way they were and none of it says anything good. Adults don't behave that way. The whole "revelation" was sneaky and manipulative and I could see how the "play" was meant to tease out more "inside" information.

. . .

If you were batshite crazy.

Anyhow, people who follow her I don't necessarily begrudge but people like her have always been on the internet since dinosaurs roamed the Earth (metaphorically speaking). She's not particularly unique.

[linskywords]

Why Hockey RPF?

Hey friends! This is a question I've been thinking about for a while, and I finally put together a list of my answers. Caveat that this is me attempting to analyze my own psychology and so may be very incomplete and/or wrong. :)

First, the general "why slash?" bits. These apply across fandoms (though I think some are extra strong in hockey, as I'll get to below).

One. Going against the script. I cannot stress enough how important this is to me in a romance. You know that thing where a man and a woman are in the same room together in a movie, so you know they're the love interests and they will kiss at the end? I hate that. It makes me feel like their love is probably fake. If they feel like they're supposed to be attracted to each other, and then they are attracted to each other, it probably isn't real attraction at all. Says my brain, anyway. If they feel like this person is not at all someone they could EVER be attracted to, and they're attracted anyway...it is instantly, like, fifty thousand times hotter to me. Works way better with gender for me than with other stuff that's traditionally been used in romance, like social class.

Two. Freedom from typical romantic gender roles. This has been said a lot, but: gender roles in romance SUCK. (They suck in most places. But romance really has a lot of them.) It's hard to grow up in a Western culture and not have an extremely conflicted relationship with them: you've been trained to find certain behaviors romantic, but you've also learned enough about feminism to question whether all of them are healthy or smart, and it's hard to write a satisfying romance when you're caught in the tangle of being drawn to the thing but also wondering if maybe you shouldn't be. It's so much easier for me to indulge my idtastic desires when I don't even have to think about whether I should be having the woman be the one taken care of, or if that makes her weak, so I should swap their roles, but then if she takes care of the guy does that mean she's doing all the work in the relationship and he's a giant man-baby...you see how that would bog you down. If both characters are men -- or women, or nonbinary -- it's easier to give them whatever roles I want without having to think about whether I'm furthering my own oppression.

Three. Getting to live in bodies that aren't our own. The previous point about gender roles can apply to femslash, too, and as a bi woman, I can get into that -- but sometimes it's better not to have to think about my own gender in the equation at all. There's so much crap associated with being a woman in our world, especially when it comes to sexuality. It can be liberating to write sex scenes when no bodies like mine are part of it even a little and you just don't have to negotiate the crap at all. This isn't an absolute for me -- I do write and enjoy femslash -- but I write way more slash than femslash, and I think this is part of it.

Four. Humanizing men. This is a big thing in a society (such as mine) where the best men are supposedly the ones who most embody a toxic masculinity where they don't experience normal human vulnerability or feelings. We're supposed to admire these men, and fall in love with them, and raise children with them (some of us), and it's so easy to resent and fear them instead. It is both satisfying and healing to portray men who are full of need and hurt and longing and love. Like, you know, humans are.

Five. Giving our desires power. In my culture, and in many others, men are the ones whose desires have power. A man wants a woman who doesn't want him back? He just needs to pursue her harder; she'll come around in the end, and if she doesn't, she's a heartless bitch. A woman wants a man who doesn't want her back? She's pathetic. Her desire makes her ridiculous. If you're a women who desires men, or who desires anyone at all, it's so humiliating to see your own desires minimalized and stripped of power like that. So if we want to write about our desires -- our desires for men, in particular -- it can be very satisfying to give those desires to another man. Those desires have POWER, then. They're legitimized. They have agency. We can revel in them without doubting our own right to have them.

So that's slash in general. Wow, there was a lot in there about cutting through the tangle of internalized patriarchy, wasn't there? Funny, that.

Hockey, though. Why hockey, amidst the many possible slash fandoms? Why did I start reading hockey RPF without ever having seen a game and fall for it so hard?

Six. The heteronormativity. And to take it a step further: the pressure in general to present yourself to the world as a certain type of person. I've written before about how a huge part of the appeal of the hockey world to me is the immense pressure it puts on its players -- which plays into the thing above about going against scripts, because the heteronormative script is extra in effect when it comes to professional sports, but it's not just that. These guys are under such a spotlight, and in exchange for their privilege and wealth they not only have to keep performing at an elite level that's hard to maintain, but they also have to force themselves into such a narrow, publicly acceptable mold. I'm not an athlete, so I can't relate to that specific set of pressures, but that makes them even more satisfying to write about. I can write about my feelings about the pressures that are on me -- the unwritten societal expectation to be important, successful, happy in easily recognized ways -- without having to think about those specific pressures, because I can substitute these ones instead.

Seven. Validation. I wrote above about giving our desires to men so that the desires have more power. In this case, it's giving the desires to successful, competent, famous people so that the desires have validity -- because the people who hold them have validity. Hockey players have the kind of prestigious, easily-recognized-at-cocktail-parties-and-high-school-reunions type of success that so many of us feel on one level or another than we should have, and they have it so unquestionably. When someone like that experiences a type of neediness I might feel -- the desperate longing for another person to notice them, the extreme obsession that comes with a crush, the miserable sureness that the person they want won't want them back -- that feeling is automatically valid, because THEY are valid. As someone who has felt a lot of longing in my life, I really enjoy exploring it in characters who have an automatic get-out-of-worthlessness free card.

So those are the navel-gazing ones, where hockey does the same kind of thing your average slash fandom does, but sometimes to a greater degree. Then there are the amazing storytelling benefits of the setting:

Eight. Team. Oh, team. Friends to lovers is my jam. I love writing characters who've spent so much time with someone, they don't even realize when their feelings for the other person cross the line from friendship to something else. This must be what friendship is, because it's what I feel for X person, who is my friend! And then the joy, of course, of having to see that person every day once you realize it isn't just friendship, and you're being tortured by knowing they'll never want you back (or so you think). Add in the thing where you and this person are fighting for something together every other day, where your successes bolster each other's, where your chemistry can mean the success of the team, and if you have a falling out (say, over someone's inappropriate crush) it could ruin your careers and the team's success...I mean, how do you resist a setup like that?

Nine. The flexibility of the setting. One of the wonderful things about hockey is that there's so much of it. If you want to set a story during a homestand, you can. If you want a road trip, you can find one. The season is seven months long, plus playoffs, and during those months you can set a story anytime and know that your characters will be seeing each other every day, creating lots of opportunities for interactions and relationship progress. And the hockey games themselves can feature -- but they don't have to. They can be just as important or unimportant as you need them to be for story purposes. Need your character to be down about something? Throw in a loss. Anxious about something? Mention a point drought. Sharing a happy moment with their person? Give them a win. If you're strictly following game schedules -- which I try to for the most part -- you might not be able to put those things exactly where you want them, but you can usually find a way to make your timeline match up with actual events. Unlike so many canons where there are specific, exciting adventures that have to be accounted for or worked around, hockey is years and years of fertile ground for whatever you want to put there.

(Corollary to the last one: this is a big part of why I find it so much easier and more fun to write fic than original fiction. When you write a novel, you usually need to create an actual plot, where external events impact each other and build to a conclusion. You can include a romance, but it has to be woven into these other events, and that gets complicated. Need a bonding moment? You'd better hope you designed your external plot to give them one. On the other hand, when you write fic, especially hockey fic, the hockey season can just march on merrily in the background, impacting your story only as much as you want it to, and you can pick and choose the parts of it that most strongly shape your romance. SO much easier to build and maintain a line of romantic tension that way.)

So those are my reasons. Put them all together, and they go a long way toward explaining why I write so much hockey -- and not just stories that borrow hockey players as characters, but stories set in the actual hockey world, with maybe an AU element, but hockey definitely present. There's just so much that the setting does for me and for my ability to write the stories that matter to me.

How about all of you?

[cnjrupasmle]

Warm Hugs

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Rating: T

I took a break from ficlets to work on a story for BB, but I failed to meet the deadline anyway. Oh well! :D

This was inspired by that post about how hockey players buddy up when there's a fight to prevent each other from joining in.

----

Sam and Rhodes hit the ice in a tangle of limbs and pads. Steve groaned. Not again. Clint slid into an embrace with Romanoff and Bucky skidded to a stop as he linked arms with T'Challa. Steve could already see the muscular man in the red jersey skating toward him as the referees tried to get to their fighting teammates. Damn.

The Stars were playing the Robots and there wasn't a more bitter rivalry in all the league. Steve had never met Stark before he shook hands with his fellow center before the game, but he knew enough about him to know that he didn't care about anyone but himself. Stark was renouned for his reckless Playboy lifestyle. Every article he saw made Steve hate the guy a little more. He gave hockey pros a bad name. For a moment, Steve considered jumping into the fray just to avoid contact with Tony Stark. No, he decided, he'd rather not sit in the penalty box while his team needed him.

Stark barely slowed down enough to keep from bowling Steve over as he skated in to hook an arm around Steve's waist. He shot Steve a cheeky grin as they watched the refs try to separate their teammates. "Hey, Cap," Stark called over the din. "You got a spare hockey stick up your ass, or what?"

Steve didn't deign Stark's jibe with any sort of result. Then, Stark leaned in closer to whisper into Steve's ear, "Would you like one?"

Seeing red, Steve pushed Stark away and threw his stick down. The refs came barrelling over, yelling at Steve to back off or face time in the penalty box as Stark just grinned wolfishly as he slid away. Steve wasn't excatly "out." Hell, only a handful of people knew about Steve's sexual preference and only one of those was a teammate. The chances of Stark actually knowing were slim, he knew, but the fear of being outed fueled Steve's anger nonetheless. It could ruin his career. Stark could ruin everything with just a flippant comment. Another firm hand on his shoulder finally had Steve reluctantly skating away toward his bench to get yelled at by Coach.

--

The Robots scraped out a very narrow victory in the final minutes, so for once Steve agreed to join his teammates downtown for a few drinks. It shouldn't be a big deal. The Stars were playing on the road and they were down a starting wingman, not to mention that they would play the Robots at home in a few weeks, but the loss to a rival still left a nasty sting. He hoped that a little alcohol might numb the pain enough to help him get some sleep before they headed off to their next game against the Red Devils.

What Steve wasn't expecting, however, was for Clint and Sam to beeline for the pub two streets down and head immediately toward the back where half the Robots team was already waiting. Rhodes immediately jumped up to offer Sam a hug and Clint slid into the booth and started chatting with Parker and Odinson. Steve took a quick survey and let out a sigh of relief: the Robots' captain was nowhere to be seen.

"Two pitchers of Budlight for the commoners and one pitcher of IPA for those of us with more refined tastes," Stark announced as he pushed through the crowd carrying an armload of beer. He must have noticed Clint and Sam right off the bat. He nodded to them and swivelled his head around until he locked gazes with Steve. Immediately Stark's smile turned predatory. "So nice of you to join us, Rogers. I was honestly hoping you wouldn't."

"I can't say that I would have come if I had known that you would be here," Steve admitted coolly.

"And that would be why we didn't tell you," Clint interrupted. "C'mon, y'all," he pleaded. "Nathaniel and I have been best friends since peewee hockey and Sam and Rhodey there played together in college. Can't we all play nice when we're off the ice? Or do we need to stop inviting you two out with us?"

"I am playing nice!"

Steve turned to Stark, bewildered. Either there was an echo in the building, or Stark seemed to think that he wasn't the instigator. Stark looked just as shocked as Steve did to hear his own thoughts come out of Steve's mouth.

"There you go!" Clint beamed and slapped them each on the back as he slunk back to the booth. "Common ground! Now discuss!"

The two captains stood there for a moment, shuffling they're feet. Steve looked back to the booth, observing all their teammates laughing and carrying on. Maybe he could try.

"Can I get you a drink?" Stark asked. "I just bought everyone else the last round, but..." he trailed off as he gestured to where two empty pitchers sat and Odinson nursed the third.

"Ah, I'd appreciate it," Steve said as he bit back the smart remark that came to mind first. "As long as I can buy your next drink." There. No no one could say he didn't try.

"Sure thing." Stark smiled seemed a little less guarded as he spoke. "Let's go up to the bar and see what tickles your fancy, yeah?"

----

By the time they reached the bar, they were making small talk. By the time they had ordered their second drinks, they were deep in conversation. By the time Clint pushed his way through the crowd to tell them they were leaving, Steve and Tony were laughing.

By the time they finally said goodnight and Steve was heading back to the hotel far later than he had intended, they had exchanged numbers.

---

Steve let the warmth of the beer and Tony's attention buzz through him on his cold walk back. He felt like the addition of Tony's number made his phone heavier and it tugged on him insistently from his jeans pocket with every step he took. He wanted to let himself believe that it all meant something: the number, the drinks...the innuendo on the ice...

But it couldn't.

Best case scenario, they might be able to be friends. Chances were that Tony "didn't swing that way." In the hypermasculine world of professional sports, you could either be straight or you could pretend to be. There were no other options. Nothing more than a friendship between two players would ever be possible. Not if they wanted to continue their careers, that is.

By the time he got to his room, the warmth inside Steve had been replaced by nausea and regret. He quickly got ready for bed and tried to settle it. They would be wheels up in less than 4 hours, so he tried to will his anxiety away and force himself to sleep.

Then, his phone beeped.

Steve was temporarily blinded by the light of the screen before he was able to make out the words.

<<What's your favorite color?>>

Steve barked out a laugh. In the last few hours they had already developed an inside joke. He felt the anxiety demon's claws release just a little and the next message came though.

<< I had a lot of fun getting to know you. Keep in touch. Goodnight, Steve >>

Steve punched out a reply.

<< Me, too. Goodnight, Tony. I'll talk to you in the morning >>

---

Steve made good on his promise. Then, just that easily, they couldn't stop talking. Soon, it was second nature for Steve to pick up his phone to talk to Tony every morning, night, and break he got during the day. Over the course of the next few weeks, it started to feel like they had been friends forever. It also did nothing to prevent Steve's feelings from growing with each passing day.

----

As fast as a blink, it was time for them to square up once again, but this time the Stars were playing at home.

They were so busy leading up to the game that Steve and Tony barely got to talk, let alone find time to meet up. So, the first time that Steve got to see Tony's face was when they squared up at center ice. He could have sworn that he even saw Tony wink right before the ref dropped the puck.

Just like all their previous clashes, it was a tight, emotion-fueled game. Still, Steve wasn't expecting the body check. He hit the ice and slid, barely coming to a stop before he was back on his feet and pulling off his helmet to face off with his attacker: Tony.

With a single shove, Tony was flat on the ice and looked as furious as Steve felt. Tony had his helmet off in a second as he leapt up and threw his weight into Steve. For a moment they grappled. It was obvious, however, that Steve was stronger and he was able to pull away just enough to cock his fist back.

The world seemed to slow down around them. In his peripheral vision, Steve could see their teammates paired up. Tony's eyes flared with anger, but he didn't move to defend himself.

Steve couldn't do it. He couldn't just let it go, either. All his frustration had to be channeled somewhere. He grabbed Tony by the shoulder pad and curled his other hand around the back of his head.

Steve crashed their mouths together.

For a brief moment, Tony's body froze. Steve pulled away, but he didn't get very far. Tony's mouth chased his, licking and nipping at Steve's bottom lip before sealing their mouths together fully for another kiss.

Hands pulled at Steve's jersey, and most of them weren't Tony's. The refs dragged them off each other and penalized both of them for fighting... And biting. The latter had Steve grinning just a little bit. Sure, there had been a tiny bit of biting involved. Tony seemed equally dazed, smiling softly to himself and running his fingers over his lips.

The two men didn't meet again until Clint and Romanoff started scrapping. This time Steve opened his arms as Tony gently coasted into him.

"So," Tony drawled, "dinner after this? Maybe without these knuckleheads? What do you think, Cap? Wanna show me your city?"

"Yeah," Steve agreed softly, "I think I'd like that."

[fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan]

The Dream- Henrik Zetterberg

Request: #47 and #48 with Henrik Zetterberg? “why are you whispering ” & “you make me want things I can’t have”

I smiled as I heard the noise coming from my neighbor’s backyard, it was late August and he was back in town for work after a summer away. I was about to go inside when I hear my name being called. “Kelly! How are you?” Seeing Henrik walking towards me I smiled, we had been neighbors for years now, when I had originally moved into the house once I got settled with my job.

“I’m good, glad that it’s Friday.”

“Rough day at work?” Working at the local hospital in the emergency department as a nurse was usually rewarding but sometimes I just had a rough day.

“You don’t know the half of it, I spent the entire morning running around the ER because we were short staffed on nurses again. I’m guessing you are having a welcome back party for the team.”

“Yeah, it’s good to be back in town. I missed you over the summer.”

“The street is definitely quieter when you are gone. Have fun at your party.” I looked after his house during the summer and when he was on road trips during the season.

“Do you want to come over? I have plenty of food and I know I have some of your favorite beer in the fridge.”

“I shouldn’t, you should be bonding with your team for the season.”

“The families are getting ready to head home and the younger guys will probably be leaving soon to go out to somewhere more exciting and without my disapproving glare. I could use the company, this house gets quiet with only me in there.”

“Let me change out of my scrubs and then I’ll be over.”

“Cool, just come to the backyard. The gate is open.” Nodding I go inside to remove my scrubs and pull on a light dress, I wouldn’t be able to wear it much longer as fall and winter would soon be here. Sliding on flip flops I headed to Henrik’s backyard, seeing a few guys playing in the pool. Smiling I found Herik’s with two beer bottles in his hands moving towards me. “Your beer.”

“Thanks.” Smiling I took a sip before sitting down in the chair next to Herik at the table set up with food.

As I was getting my plate together he leaned in close to me, his mouth close to my ear. “You look beautiful tonight, but then again you always do.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because I don’t need the young guys on the team to make fun of my flirting skills, they haven’t been used in a while.” I froze when he said flirting, for years I thought I was just imagining him flirting with me. “That’s right, I have been trying to show you I was interested in you since a month after you moved in. I decided over the summer that this year I was going to be more direct in my efforts.”

“I’d say they are working. I thought I was imagining everything these last few years, glad to know I am not going insane.” Henrik was about to respond when one of the guys in the pool spoke up.

“Yo! Cap! We are heading out, we’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” He nods and waves his goodbye before we both watch them leave through the gate I had come in not 20 minutes before. “Remember to practice safe sex!” One of them yells, causing them all to laugh, me to blush, and Henrik to flip them off. Once the noise they were making was gone I laughed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry my teammates said that, hockey players for the most part stop maturing at age 16. Half the time we are together it is just everyone chirping each other.” I didn’t know what to say so I just nodded and took another sip of my beer. “Please tell me the guys didn’t just ruin everything?”

“No, this is just kind of a lot to process.”

“Let’s just go and sit in one of the lounge chairs, it will be more comfortable.” I followed Henrik over to the lounge chairs he had next to the pool, gasping as he pulled me into him as he went to sit down on one of the lounge chairs. After I was settled with my head resting in the middle of his chest we both were silent. It was the comfortable silence that gives you that warm feeling and doesn’t make things awkward. I think I started to fall asleep but Henrik’s voice started me awake even though it was barely a whisper. “You make me want things I can’t have.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I see what some of the guys on my team have with a girl and kids to come home to. But as captain I have so many extra responsibilities that this is no time for any of that. I want to spend more time with you but I also don’t want to have to leave for large stretches of time and leave you here by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Who says you can’t have that? While I’m not saying let’s go and have a kid right now, I know you have obligations for the team and I would never be upset about that. I want you to get to know you as more than the hot neighbor I’ve had a crush on for years.”

“But I spend so much time away from Detroit, how can you want to get into a relationship with someone like that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be leaving here because you feel like it, you would be doing it for the job you love. And you would be coming home to me everytime. If your teammates can balance a hockey career and a family I am sure you could too. Everyone’s life is a balance, it’s just a fact of life.”

“You are perfect and I am going to spend every day you let me showing you just how much you mean to me.” I felt his hand gently turn my face to his, pressing his lips to mine. In a few years time we would be telling our kids about our first kiss and how everyone has that person that they would do anything for. We just took a little longer than some to admit who it was.

[st-louis]

JEWISH PLAYERS IN THE NHL: 1/? JASON ZUCKER

(photo by Andy King, NHLI)

so this is going to be an ongoing series about Jewish players in the NHL because there are like... under seven of them. I’m starting with Jason Zucker because he’s one of my favorites. :> He’s talented, a little bit of a weirdo, and just seems like an all-around nice person.

He plays left wing for the Minnesota Wild. According to his official team bio, was born in Southern California but grew up in Las Vegas.  He’s Jewish but he doesn’t consider himself religious, he wasn’t bar mitzvah’d because he didn’t want to miss hockey (his mom does make kugel tho, so that’s legit secular Jew cred.)

His mom, Natalie, was a competitive figure skater, and his dad, Scott, is a general contractor who built both ice and roller rinks, and he got his start skating there at age 2 1/2. He’d practice for hours, played competitive roller hockey, and was known for his speed (playing defense originally because he could get from one end of the rink to another so quickly). He didn’t switch to ice hockey until he was eight or nine. At the time his skating was terrible; the toe pick in ice skates threw him off, and he didn’t improve until he got a skating coach.

He described his work ethic:

For me, I was on the side yard of my parents house. I had a little piece of roller hockey sport court where I wouldn’t ruin my sticks, and I would shoot pucks for hours and hours and hours a day. I remember we had a little wall on the side and I would do jump squats onto the wall and I would run sprints around the backyard. It was a terrible setup for working out but I would find myself out there all the time, because it was fun.

Still good enough to end up on UNDTP tho. In 2009 and 2010 Zucker helped the US win the World Junior Under-18, and the 2010 World Junior Championships. He committed to the University of Denver before being drafted by the Wild in 2010, and played two seasons there (45G, 46A in 78 games). He turned pro at the end of the 2011-12 season.

Right before the draft, his best friend, Nick Schaefer, died in a car accident. He has a tattoo -- “game time” on his chest in his memory.  On the draft:

I was thrilled, but I couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened to Nick. The fragility of life and the importance of even the smallest moments really hit me. Like everybody else, I sometimes stop and think back to those instances when, in a second, I had a choice to do one thing or the other. And ever since that summer night in 2010, Nick, in some way, has been with me every time.

He still writes Nick’s initials on every single one of his sticks, along with “Mom,” “Dad,” and “STS,” for shoot to score.

His first seasons weren’t super great and he bounced around between the AHL and the NHL during the first few years. He scored his first NHL goal against Detroit in 2013, but his season was cut short by a torn quadriceps. In 2014-15 things definitely improved with 21 goals in 51 games and a 16.9% shooting percentage.

Zucker had some interesting thoughts on the billeting system and leaving home so young. While he felt it was 100% worth it and he’d do it over again, he wouldn’t let his kids do it if they didn’t really want to--as a result of the unusual way he was raised he doesn’t have any friends outside of hockey, and that was “probably tough for [his] parents to see.”

Another great thing about him is his charity work: he and his wife, Carly, started a campaign to raise funds for a family suite at the University of Minnesota Masonic Children’s Hospital, and raised more than $1,000,000 in nine months. But he’s been involved with the hospital since 2015, and the campaign was inspired by one of the children he met and befriended there. Tucker had been diagnosed with bone cancer but still had time to give Jason some advice:

He said, “Jason, I’ve been watching you a lot this year. I need to give you some advice, O.K?”

I kind of laughed him off.

“No, I’m serious, Jason. First, you need to backcheck harder. It will make things easier on the other end. And secondly, shoot more!”

After Tucker passed away, Zucker got his autograph tattooed on his wrist, along with that advice: shoot more.

Also, because I love dumb hockey player tattoos, he also has “USA” on his back (I know) and on his left arm, in Hebrew, “in pursuit of perfection.” I, uh, have to quote this article in a large part because of this story involving Charlie Coyle:

“Everyone always wants to strive to be the best,” Zucker said. “I’m no different. I want to be better than everybody in that locker room and they all want to be better than me. That’s just the way it goes. That’s the way our business runs. I’m always striving to be perfect and I may never reach there. Nobody ever will. But I’m always striving to get to that.”

The other meaning? Zucker says he has “a little OCD [obsessive-compulsive disorder].”

“A little?” teammate Charlie Coyle, who lives with Zucker in Minneapolis, says with a chuckle. “Go in his room. He’s a big guy with watches and he’s got this whole case of probably 50 watches perfectly lined up, every one just perfect. Go in his closet and all his shirts are hung up, almost color coded. They’re all perfect. Same with his shoes, not one out of place.

“Just everything. Like everything. We go grocery shopping, and you open the cabinets, and everything is all perfect, labels facing out and spaced apart so evenly. I’m telling you, everything. I’m a neat person, so it’s fine, but it’s a little over the top.

“Heck, just watch him take off his equipment. He takes his laces and folds them perfectly down so it just sits there.”

Of course, there are few things Coyle enjoys more than messing with Zucker … by messing up his perfect stuff.

Listen, I know.

He married Carly Aplin in 2016, and they have two children together.

Anyway! He had an excellent season in 2017-2018. This July, he signed a five-year, $27.5 million contract after career highs: goals (33), assists (31) and points (64), mostly on the first line, and after being nominated for the King Clancy. In short:

Jason Zucker made significant strides in his game this season, both offensively and defensively. He was among the team’s top performers throughout the year, and although he was streaky at times, he contributed in some way on most nights. Without Zucker, the team may have actually missed the playoffs, as his improved offense carried the team for a few stretches of the campaign (one 7-game point streak and two 6-game point streaks).

Hockey Wilderness agrees.

JUST A GOOD TEAM GUY!!!! Here he is talking about his team when specifically being interviewed about his own awesome performance:

Asked after the game if he felt compelled to lift the team after a week of saying the leaders needed to, Zucker said, “Absolutely I did. I wasn’t happy with how I played the first two games. I thought I had some good spurts. It just wasn’t good enough. I know the way that I can play and (this) was much more like it. (Staal, Mikko Koivu, Zach Parise, I think everybody would’ve said the same thing about the first two games. We all wanted to step up and play well.

“That’s what true leadership is. Just guys going out and showing it on the ice. (Ryan Suter) was phenomenal. (Matt Dumba) played really well. (Jared Spurgeon) was battling. On a night he said he didn’t feel great with the puck, I thought (Spurgeon) was one of our best defensemen. You can’t say enough about a lot of the guys in this room.”

via The Athletic

some videos:

very encouraging but extremely, unfortunately boring when mic’d up what are you doing how does this even happen scores in literally 10 seconds of play first hat trick!!!! trying to explain cribbage to charlie coyle lmao a highlight reel lmao fighting

SOURCES

Official Bio Rooted in Roller Hockey Who the Folk?! Wild Agree to Five Year, 27.5 Million Contract Player’s Tribune Words Will Last Lifetime For Wild’s Jason Zucker Perfection is Always the Goal Jason Zucker took giant leaps forward Jason Zucker puts his leadership on display

[lhugbereth]

Ah hi i was that anon that send u the iceskaterau and omg thank u!(u might have noticed, but i usually send prompts ending with 3 pervyemojis(ﾟωﾟ)srry if i spam u sometimes and thank you for answering every one!)（╹◡╹）and i got a lot more ideas! They invite eachother to watch their contests. Some people foundout about them, they made it to the headlines: love on ice. Gladio getting jealous of Prompto skating partner.Gladio teaching Prompto hockey but he somehow made it look elegant while doing it

Pervyemoji Anon, I love all of your sweet ideas! Thank you for starting this whole hockey/skater AU idea

Cheesy Cheese under the cut!! v v v

- Gladio isn’t really sure what he should call Prompto. He thinks they’re “seeing each other,” which to him means they sleep over at each other’s places a lot, have a lot of really, really good sex, and watch each other’s games/competitions when they can. Yet he also knows there’s more to it than that. There’s the texting, late at night and early in the morning. The smiles and the meaningful glances, the lightness he feels in his chest when they kiss. Not to mention going out for coffee, movies-and-chill nights (which actually sometimes involve just chilling together), and all the little things in between that make him wonder how he ended up falling so hard, so fast.

- He’s hesitant to use the word “love.” That word only ever gets people in trouble.

- But when he walks into the rink one day to see Prompto already on the ice, his hands around the waist of a beautiful young woman as they skate together in perfect unison, Gladio doesn’t know how else to explain the sudden and overwhelming pang of jealousy. It’s all he can do to keep from rushing into the rink and pulling them apart.

- Instead, he settles for skating out toward them with his hands in his pocket and his mouth set in a frown. “Hey,” he says flatly, looking from the girl to Prompto and back again.

- The pair skate to a stop. Prompto flashes him an oblivious smile. “Gladdy! You were late this morning, so Luna and I got started without you.”

- Luna?

- The young woman smiles as she holds out her hand to him. “Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. You must be the special friend Prom keeps telling me stories about.” From the way she’s smiling at him, lips curved at the corners in amusement, it’s clear that Prompto’s been telling her a lot more than just stories.

- “I’m Gladio, yeah. Did I miss something here?”

- “Oh, Luna’s in town to watch the competition this week. Her brother’s back in the men’s solo cup this season since he got banned from...pair skate….” Prompto flushes, glancing quickly at Luna as if worried he’s said too much. But she’s still busy appraising Gladio and doesn’t seem too bothered by it. “We were doing some warm ups while we waited for you.”

- Gladio grunts. He’s still caught up in the shock of having walked in on them, of having seen Prom’s hands on someone else, and even though he knows it’s stupid, he can’t shake the feeling of jealousy.

- Luckily for him, Luna seems to read his tight frown. She excuses herself, skating to the other end of the rink to practice jumps while giving the two men some privacy. Prompto quickly takes over, his eyes and smile bright as he draws up Gladio’s hands in his and begins to pull him across the ice. “Luna’s probably the best skater in Tenebrae,” he explains while they move together, starting with their footwork routine. “She and her brother won gold in the pair skate Gran Prix last year, but…. Ravus got in trouble.”

- From what Gladio knows of Tenebraens (which comes from his games against their hockey team, the Oracles), that surprises him. Despite a little elitism, they’re usually known for their exceptionally good sportsmanship. “What’d he do?”

- Prompto flushes again, but his smirk speaks volumes. “He fucked one of the judges during the finals.”

- Gladio snorts. As they skate together, hand in hand and with Prompto’s smile on him, his mood gradually improves. They do some drills, some speed runs, and Gladio shows off just how much better he’s gotten at graceful stops. Prompto smiles and praises him, catches up behind him and wraps his arms around his solid waist in the same manner he'd been holding Luna when he arrived. "I'd love to really skate with you one day," he says against his neck.

- Gladio feels it again, that lightness in his chest, and despite Prompto being a good head shorter, he leans back against his frame. "If you've got the patience to teach me."

- Lips against the rough-shaven line of his jaw finally bring out his smile. "Only if you've got the time to learn."

- Gladio thinks that yeah, he's got all the time in the world for Prom.

- A sudden flash of light and the rapid click of a camera shutter startle them both out of the moment. They turn in time to see two figures, one tall and lean, the other short and portly, making a run for the exit. Luna is already shouting after them, her skates flying off at the edge of the rink as she starts to give chase.

- "Gladio, who was -- ?!"

- He doesn't hear the rest. Putting all his years of endurance and stamina training to the test, Gladio hops the side of the rink and goes barreling after the cameramen. His skates are going to be ruined, he can hear the metal scraping on the concrete floor as each foot comes down, but in the end it's all for nothing. He and Luna lose sight of the men in the parking lot out back.

- Prompto comes racing out a moment later. Gladio is sitting on the ground, swearing darkly as he tugs his skates off his feet, and Luna looks like she's going to cry. "Who the fuck were they?"

- "I'm so sorry, Prompto," Luna says softly. She reaches for him, catches sight of Gladio’s feral glare, and shrinks back. "Ever since the thing with Ravus… They've been following us. I didn’t imagine they'd be here in Insomnia, too, but…."

- Paparazzi. Gladio knows all about them. About how they once hounded his father after another player had been snubbed for the Hall of Fame in favor of Clarus. There had been heated tension among the NHL community for months. The dirty journalists had thrived on it.

- And how they had gotten a shot of him and Prompto on the ice. It was only a matter of time before that bomb dropped and their...relationship made public. What would happen then? Clarus had barely managed to hold onto his career in the midst of the rumors, even with Regis Caelum at his side. Gladio’s name might save him, but Prompto…?

- "What are we gonna do, Gladdy? What if that picture gets out?" Chewing his lip, Prompto looks frantically between him and Luna. His eyes are round, red, scared. He's holding back tears. He thinks that maybe they can deny it, claim the photo was shopped, but Gladio is well aware that there’s no quelling the rumors once they start. They really have only one option at this point - to beat the paparazzi at their own game. But they've got to act fast.

- And as soon as they're done, Gladio swears he’s going to find those assholes and rip them limb from limb.

- The photo does indeed get printed on the front page of the next morning’s sports tabloids. "Amicitia and Argentum heating things up on the ice!" reads the headline, but by then it's already old news. Between the three of them (mostly Luna), every social media site on the web had blown up overnight. A single selfie, much clearer than any paparazzi shot, showed Gladio’s smile pressed to Prompto’s ear and their hands curled together in a heart at the bottom of the frame. The hashtag #boyfriendsonice (also Luna’s idea) was trending in a matter of hours. Prompto (who had already come out publicly) wrote a touching message to his fans, thanking them for their support as he explored this new, wonderful relationship with his hunky hockey player.  

- Gladio, who was less active online, got his teammates to help spread the word. The homepage for the Insomnia Kings hosted the selfie, too, with the caption, “Love is love, no matter what team you skate for!” (This one earned Gladio a call in the middle of the night from Clarus, of course, but that was still preferable over the alternatives).

- In the end, the show of support was overwhelming. They were still getting heartfelt letters and gifts from fans days later, and tickets to Gladio’s game that weekend ended up selling out. He had to pull some strings to get rinkside seats for Luna and Prompto. But amidst all the cheering and the limelight, he was grateful to know they were there. Luna had quickly proven herself a true friend, and Prompto….

- Well, Gladio no longer had any doubts about what he felt for his brave, beautiful boyfriend. And he was certainly done with hiding it. 

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 33 - NSH - Jack for Hart

4-3 Regulation Win

Sometimes this team sucks ass. Sometimes it’s fun. In the career of Jack Eichel the results tend toward the latter. Since his sophomore season we have patiently awaited his arrival as a bona fide superstar in the NHL. We have awaited the evidence to shift from why to why not on face of the franchise. We have arrived at the nexus of the Eichel Sabres. Every goal you can think of Jack Eichel can do: tip-in, tight-angle, slapshot, snapshot, Ovechkin office, blueline, boards, up close, far back, you name it he does it. The Buffalo Sabres success or failure runs through Jack Robert Eichel. You thought his 19th and 20th goals were fun last game, well here comes 21 and 22, baby! Say it with me: Jack Eichel for Hart. Jack Eichel for MVP! We’ll get into how he took over this particular game in a minute. For right now allow me to direct your attention to the team around him. Zach Bogosian asked for a trade. All joking about what Bogo is or isn’t on the ice aside his numbers are brutal and his time with this team has been ruined by injury. Trading him will be difficult if it happens. Rasmus Ristolainen this season is proof winning can make you forget where else you want to be. However the reported request begs another question: What is the plan for this season for the Front Office? I have reason to believe, for several reasons, Jason Botterill and the Front Office of this organization targeted 2020-2021 to be their first season truly gunning for the playoffs. John Vogl replied as much to me in an Athletic subscriber Q&A and others, well informed and not, have suggested as much on social media. Whether it was Botterill’s plan from the moment he walked in the door in 2017 or not we may never know. Now, 2.5 years into the second rebuild we’re… uh… in a playoff spot with not a lot of faith we’ll still be in one come April? The other piece here is that there will be an absurd amount of cap room available in the summer. It’s the ideal opportunity to really make some big moves. Perhaps that’s the reason names like Zemgus Girgensons, Johan Larsson, Jake McCabe and yes maybe even Rasmus Ristolainen are still on the team. He’s just skating an entertaining-enough roster to get to this coming summer with no intention of seriously pushing for a playoff spot. I have feelings on this theory of course but more on that later. We got a real slobber-knocker of a game tonight to talk about.

The Nashville Predators sit in a similar situation to the Sabres. They’re just kinda middling as well: a game below .500 fighting for a playoff spot. Both these teams wanted the two points tonight and both teams came out showing their intent to go get it. There was a goal scored in the first minute of this game just like Tuesday. This time it was for the other team. A weird zone entry for the Preds that you’re justified in thinking might be offsides and suddenly Matt Duchene is dangling the pants off everything that stood in his way. Even Linus Ullmark was no match and got deked out before the goal, 1-0 Nashville. It took about 15 minutes but the clap-back energy that is present in this team when they’re at their best arrived when a weird Ristolainen move up in front of the Predators net gave Jimmy Vesey the last touch on a tap-in equalizer. It can not be understated how fast paced this game was from the very first period. When Colton Sissons hammered home a long distance five-hole tally late in the first frame it seemed the home team was out-running itself, still flying to defensive positions. Then period number two came. The Jack Attack arrived in force. A long pass to Sam Reinhart got to the Captain who sized up his options and moved in on Juuse Saros. He shot it top shelf in a tight situation. It was very frankly arousing. The 1980s style graphics and music made it feel surreal and I wasn’t even in the building. Especially as the night went on the building got louder and louder. It wasn’t even a sellout but somehow it doesn’t need to be: when the team is fun so is the building. Take note, Terry.

There are a lot of guys on the team making this fun little stretch of hockey go. Brandon Montour is at full potential. He was probably the best defenseman on the ice the same night Rasmus Dahlin came back. What do you know: Rasmus Ristolainen now has seven points in eight games. Winning solves a lot of our grievance doesn’t it? Also great: Marcus Johansson. There were several rushes and neat zone entries that ran through the super center. Johansson has quickly become the wildest dreams for a second line center Jason Botterill had when he asked for Patrik Berglund. This game was too fun to bring up stuff like that. The returning Rasmus Dahlin got a puck to Henri Jokiharju at the blueline about 14 minutes into the second period. Joker took the shot and it got a tasty touch from Eichel in the slot to redirect it in. Go-ahead goal 3-2 Sabres. The clap-back was on fire. But Nashville has clap-back in spades as well. One opportunity for the visitors beat Ullmark only for the outstretched stick of the Captain to block it. This game was an F1 duel. Four minutes left in the second period and the Preds were in a sustained cycle of zone time. Ryan Johansen got a sneaky rebound the snuck over Linus Ullmark’s outstretched left pad. It was equal again at 3-3. That was probably the most merited score I’ve seen through forty minutes this season. This game, especially the middle frame was just so incredibly even. It was back and forth by the eye-test and 50/50 in most every statistical category as well. Victor Olofsson said it in postgame: “We have confidence because we’re playing like we were earlier this year… we changed the way we play in games like this… we took momentum.”

The fabulous rookie was the decider in this game. Olofsson is becoming the Swedish Artemi Panarin. YES, I’M COMPARING OLOFSSON TO PANARIN! He took over the lead in goals among rookies with a goal off his own rebound. Sam Reinhart kept the puck in the offensive zone and fired a long pass to Brandon Montour on the left boards. Montour put it net-front to Olofsson who took a shot and missed. The rebound bounced around behind the net and he collected it himself to put up and in behind Saros. It was now 4-3 Buffalo and something special unfolded. While there were select chances for Nashville, the defensive play ticked up like everyone was playing penalty kill. The Preds kept getting tied up in the neutral zone, a tale I remember vividly going the other way in an early December game with Nashville last season. This Buffalo team, much like the other one, has found the way to not only winning close games, but forcing the other team to work hard if they hope to have a chance. As the minutes and seconds in regulation ticked away you could see the visitors get more frantic. The Predators ended up outshooting the Sabres 39-32 but thanks to Linus Ullmark continuing to inspire confidence in front of him and a whole team that has discovered their defensive prowess, the goals category remained in favor of Buffalo. Even when Nashville pulled their goalie it seemed as thought they were just taking a series of slappers in the general direction of the Sabres net. None would go, the Sabres won their third straight for the first time since the fast times back in October. Buffalo honored the old Aud and the high scoring 1980s with real gunslinging kinda of a game.

So what is this fun for? It appears this team has arisen from a slump like few teams of recent years were able to. Now that is sorta appears they can, will they pursue the much-pined-for playoff berth? Long time readers of the blog will know exactly my feelings on the 2020 scenario I led this postgame with. I want playoffs now and I think this franchise needs playoffs now! I think this team was good enough to do it last season! Yeah, I’m bullish on that. However, the Alex Galchenyuk rumor, from the mouth of Darren Dreger mind you, disrupts the 2020 theory just a little bit. Galchenyuk, a reclamation project for sure, is an attempt at adding legitimate top six talent. If you get 50% of what Galch was two seasons ago, hell if you get his normal point production, you have a complete top six. Not only that but you have a top six more or less proven to be what this Coach would want to play on night-to-night basis. Love it or hate it Ralph Krueger has always come back to that same top line. Does this team plus a Galchenyuk move not look like a team trying to make the playoffs this season? Once more, how many of us twitter GMs have prognosticated that this team is one top six player away from being something great? Not great like not losing most games, great like could make the playoffs and have a fighting chance once they get there. Games as exciting as tonight are ultimately nothing but memories if they don’t contribute to a point total that can get you a spot in the dance. What does the Front Office think of this season? They can make a decisive statement with a trade, will they?

Believe it or not this was the Sabres first win against the Preds at home since 2008. It was only the second home win against the Predators in Sabres history. That’s an interesting stat. The stats that mattered tonight though are leads. The Sabres defended their last one for eleven and a half minutes against the Predators. That’s hot. More leads: Jack Eichel passed Alex Ovechkin to reach second in the league in goal scoring with his two goals while Victor Olofsson passed Cale Makar for the rookie lead in goal and points. Unreal. As crazy as this is right now the December schedule has no mercy for us. Now the Sabres fly off on a three-game road trip of the Islanders, the Leafs, and the Flyers. That’s not a cake walk. We have a strong MVP candidate on our hands and a very decent Calder Trophy candidate as well; but all our fawning has to mean something or you minus well just call this a rerun. Let’s end on a fun note though, this game merited it: When the Sabres played their last game at the Aud in April 1996 none of Jack Eichel, Rasmus Asplund, Casey Mittelstadt, Henri Jokiharju and Rasmus Dahlin were born yet. It’s a new age in Buffalo. It’s a New Look Sabres!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. Yes, I know there are also reports Botterill has put a trade on the backburner since the winning resumed. Let’s just hope that’s not the case and move on. Enjoy nice things while you have them: the Sabres are three points up on a playoff spot.

[everywon-woo]

SOMETIMES PLANES CRASH - chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for reading this fic and for the lovely reactions to the last chapter! it really means a lot and it motivates me to keep writing. I decided to divide this fic into 3 chapters, so there will be one more chapter after this. I have so many ideas for sequels and sidefics, but those might take a while bc I’m a horribly slow writer. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Masterpost

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

When Jack woke up the next morning and stretched his arms to reach for Bitty and pull him close to his – still very naked – body, he was met with warm but empty sheets. Normally, this wouldn’t concern him – Bitty loved to cook breakfast on the rare occasion that they didn’t have to go anywhere in the morning – but considering the events of the evening before, Jack couldn’t help but worry, so he quickly threw on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before making his way out of the bedroom.

Apparently his worry hadn’t been unjustified, as Bitty was not cooking, but standing in front of his laptop, one hand covering his mouth. Jack could see him shaking on his legs from where he was standing.

Jack’s first instinct was to slam the laptop shut and drag Bitty back to bed to stay there for the rest of the day, but his plan fell apart as soon as he switched his attention from his boyfriend to the laptop screen. There, on the screen, was a copy of the picture Bitty posted on Instagram the day before – which was not the concerning part, they had expected this, and Jack couldn’t deny it was a nice picture – and an article of which Jack could only read the headline.

“Bits? What is this?” Jack asked. Bitty gasped and slammed the laptop shut. He wiped at his eyes quickly before he turned around and tried to do his best to smile believably.

“Gosh, honey, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Oh Bits,” Jack sighed and he took a few steps to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. “You have to deal with this because of me, so I’m not going to let you deal with it alone. We’re a team, remember?”

This seemed to be enough for Bitty to let his tears flow, dampening Jack’s t-shirt.

“I’m- I’m sorry, honey,” he sniffled, “it’s just, the stuff these articles say…”

He was now sobbing loudly into Jack’s chest, and Jack pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Let me read them?” he asked when Bitty calmed down a bit.

Bitty nodded and untangled himself from Jack.

They settled down on the couch, pressed close together with the laptop on Jack’s lap.

 ‘College friend of Jack Zimmermann seeks fame?’

 “Last night, in the aftermath of one of the greatest games of hockey every played by Jack Zimmermann, a video surfaced of the NHL star and another man – most likely one of his college line mates, Eric Bittle – being intimate after the game. Zimmermann is undeniably recognizable in the clip, but the identity of the other man would have remained a mystery if it wasn’t for a picture posted on the Instagram account of the abovementioned Eric Bittle, merely minutes after the original video was leaked.

The picture shows Zimmermann and Bittle in an incriminating position at the public skating rink in Providence. Bittle captioned the picture: “Jack Zimmermann sure knows how to have a first date”. Zimmermann seems unaware of the fact that his picture was being taken, and this raises a lot of questions. Did Zimmermann consent to this picture being posted? Did Bittle post it solely in search of fame?

If the latter was the case, he has definitely succeeded. The picture is being massively shared on social media: ‘The first gay NHL player’ is a story that doesn’t only concern the hockey world, and Bittle has managed to put himself right in the center of the attention, which wouldn’t have been the case if only the original video had been leaked.

Some are even doubting Zimmermann’s consent to the whole situation. They argue that a star like Zimmermann would know better than to be intimate with another man in the Falconer’s facility – as being discovered could potentially ruin his young career – and he might have not been consenting to the actions seen in the leaked video either, on top of the lack of confirmation of any consent to the posting of the Instagram picture.

Although it seems very likely that Zimmermann is a victim in this unfortunate situation, we can only speculate, as there has yet to be an official statement by either Zimmermann or Bittle, which we expect to come very soon.”

 By the time Jack finished reading the article, Bitty was quietly sobbing again.

“Bits,” Bitty looked up to Jack with swollen eyes, “can you text me the pictures that girl took?”

“Uh… of course, honey.”

Bittle didn’t seem to understand where this way going, but sent Jack the photos anyway.

George had set up a verified twitter account for Jack last summer, and despite the popular belief, Jack did know how to use twitter, he just couldn’t be bothered to. Despite his complete absence from social media, he still had a few hundred thousand followers.

Jack decided that the time had come to put those to use, and he typed out a tweet while being stared at by a wide-eyed Bitty. He attached the picture of them kissing the previous night and sent out the tweet for the whole world.

 Jack Zimmermann @OfficialJackZimmermann

My boyfriend (whom I love very much) posted last night’s picture with my full consent. Here’s another one pic.twitter.com/AEj5i6sD90

 He knew he was probably making George’s job even harder, but he didn’t care. Jack could handle bad articles being written about himself. He was used to it, after all.

What he couldn’t handle was shit being said about Bitty, who wouldn’t have been in this situation if it wasn’t for Jack in the first place, and he would do everything in his power to prevent anyone from ever writing a bad word about Bitty again.

Meanwhile, a Bitty was still staring at Jack teary-eyed.

“Well, I did not expect that,” he declared.

“What? Bits, you didn’t think I’d just let them get away with saying stuff like this about you, did you?” Jack asked.

“No, but…” he paused for a moment, “Jack. You just called me your boyfriend and posted a picture of us kissing on your verified twitter account,” he stressed the word ‘verified’ to indicate that they were going to have a talk about that later, “which you apparently know how to use.”

“Yeah,” Jack smiled. Even though this whole situation was pretty much his fault, at that moment, he was pretty proud of himself.

“Jack,” Bitty emphasised, “you know how to use twitter.”

Of course Bitty would choose his unexpected knowledge of social media as the most important part of Jack’s public declaration of love.

“And you have a verified twitter account,” he continued.

Jack nodded, all the anger leaving his body at the sight of Bitty’s growing smile.

Bitty looked up at him in awe. “Gosh, my boyfriend is a celebrity.”

Jack laughed and intended to give him a quick peck on the lips, but apparently Bitty did not agree with that, as he wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him down on the sofa with him. Jack did not complain.

 The press conference the next day went surprisingly well. Jack was accompanied by not only Georgia, but also Marty and Thirdy, who had apparently begged George to let them join as soon as they heard about the press conference. The rest of the world probably thought about it as two players with A’s assisting the third one, but Jack knew they were there as his friends rather than his fellow alternate captains, which made him feel slightly better about the fact that Bitty was back at Samwell. No matter how much he needed him, Jack had insisted that Bitty’s education was more important than this stupid press conference.

If Jack called Ransom and Holster to keep an eye on Bitty and fight anyone who even looked at him the wrong way, Bitty didn’t need to know.

Despite Bitty’s absence, Jack managed to stay relatively calm during the press conference. He stated that he was bisexual – which would most likely be ignored by every major sports network – and made sure it was very clear that his relationship with Eric Bittle and any previous relationships – this part was mostly for Kent’s sake – were private and off-limit for the press.

He guaranteed that his sexuality had never affected his play and would never affect his play in the future, which made Marty and Thirdy laugh and Marty exclaimed: “I sure hope it hasn’t affected your play! Imagine if you had even more potential than you’re showing right now! The Falcs could just fire all of us and put only you on the ice, and you’d still win!”

Laughter went through the whole room, but when George leaned towards her microphone, everyone went silent, expecting her to say something serious.

“I think I need to remind you Jack is only a rookie, Marty. Maybe you should start looking for a job in case he hasn’t reached his full potential yet,” she joked.

Jack couldn’t have wished for a better team. Ever since he realized he was not straight, a press conference about his sexuality had been his worst nightmare. But here he was, surrounded by his friends, who had managed to make it seem like this was not a big deal.

Jack didn’t think he could be any more grateful, but when they walked of the stage, out of the press’ sight, after all of them answered a few more questions, he was immediately enveloped in a bone-crushing hug by Shitty.

“Shits, what are you doing here?”

“Lards told me you made Bitty go back to Samwell,” Shitty explained, “and I figured you might need some support.”

He then let Jack go, luckily, because a man needs to breathe every once in a while to stay alive.

“I see that my support is not needed, though,” he added, nodding towards Marty and Thirdy.

“Yeah,” Jack smiled, “they’re nice guys. They wear pants most of the time, though, so it’s not the same.”

“Brah, you just have to call and I’ll be at your door, without pants, within less than 2 hours, I promise,” this got Shitty a weird look from the people within hearing distance, “that’s what BFFs are for.”

“Haha, yeah. Thanks. When do you have to go back to Boston?” Jack asked.

“I don’t have to be back until tomorrow afternoon. But, as much as I’d love to have a good old BFF sleepover at your fancy apartment, we already have other plans.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “We?”

“Yes, Jack. We,” Shitty nodded. “We are going to have lunch at your apartment – oh don’t act like you have no food, I bet Bitty leaves you more food than you can eat – and I happen to know that you don’t have to be back in Providence until tomorrow afternoon, so-”

“Wait, what?” Jack interrupted. “Shits, I have a game tomorrow. Morning skate isn’t optional.”

“Indeed, it isn’t optional,” Georgia’s voice sounded from behind Jack, and Jack wanted to start apologizing for ruining Shitty’s plans. “Morning skate is not an option for you, Jack. I don’t want to see you on the ice tomorrow morning. Go see your boy.”

Shitty’s face broke into a huge grin, and Jack couldn’t remember a time he had ever been so happy to not be allowed on the ice.

“So,” Shitty continued, “you don’t have to be back until tomorrow afternoon and I don’t have to be in Boston until tomorrow afternoon, which means we are going to visit or favourite significant others at our only true home, the most beautiful frat house on the Samwell campus, also known as the Haus.”

As he was already dragging Jack to the parking lot, Jack had to express his gratitude by shouting “Thanks!” at Marty, Thirdy, and George, who had joined the two men in a conversation that appeared to be funny, judging from their giggling.

The three of them turned around and waved at Jack enthusiastically, despite the fact that he was being dragged away by the man that had loudly promised Jack naked sleepovers less than 5 minutes ago.

“Bye Jack, have fun!” Georgia said, and Jack didn’t know if he should feel uncomfortable about the slight smirk that implied she was very aware of how much Jack was looking forward to being in Bitty’s bed for another night.

“Wait, Jack! Say hi to Bitty for me!” Marty shouted.

“Yeah, and thank him for that pie he made us!” Thirdy added.

Jack had the feeling his teammates liked Bitty more than they liked him, despite not knowing Bitty at all. He didn’t blame them. In the past few years he had learned that Bitty’s pies were a very reliable way to make people like him.

 “Jack,” Shitty started while they ate lunch – lunch that had indeed been left behind by Bitty – at Jack’s apartment, “you know we’re all really proud of you, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said, “even though I don’t fully understand why. It’s not like coming out was some kind of brave move, I didn’t have a choice.”

Shitty put down his fork, meaning that it was time for a “Jack Zimmermann, you are a fucking beaut and I’m gonna keep lecturing you until you believe it”-speech.

“Dude, I was actually talking about progress and your life in general, but I want you to know that I wholeheartedly disagree with you there. Okay, that video leaking was not your fault, but the way you decided to handle it was entirely your choice. You could’ve denied it. I’ve seen the articles, you could’ve blamed it all on Bitty and the whole hockey world would’ve believed you.”

“I could never-”

“I know,” Shitty interrupted him, “but for that alone you should get more credit that you give yourself. Believe me, everyone is surprised – no offense – at how well you’re both handling this situation. Lardo was so worried about Bits when she heard the news, I’ve never seen her like that. But apparently her worries were kind of unnecessary. That boy sure is amazing. I’m sure Lards would be giving you the “If you hurt him, I’ll break your legs”-talk right now if she didn’t think you were already hiding a ring in one of your drawers.”  

“Well,” Jack looked down at his food and blushed, “not in one of my drawers.”

Shitty choked on his own spit, managed to push over a glass of water and almost fell out of his chair.

“BRAH.”

“I mean, uh…” Jack stuttered, “I might have bought a ring after Bittle left yesterday?”

Shitty’s jaw was on the floor.

“But, I, uh… I- I’m not gonna propose or anything, I know it’s too soon and Bittle’s still in college-”

Before he knew it, Jack was on the floor with a slightly too enthusiastic Shitty on top of him. His chair was somewhere in the mix too, as Shitty had just tackled him in a hug without bothering to think about the uncomfortable position they would end up in.

“Brah,” Shitty repeated, softly and fondly this time, and Jack could feel him smile against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed happily, and he returned his best friend’s hug.

 When they arrived at the house, Shitty couldn’t stop smiling at Bitty. Luckily, he kept his mouth shut, and when Bitty asked what was going on, Jack pretended he had no idea what caused Shitty’s mood.

“He’s probably just really missed your pies,” he said, hoping the mention of pies would make Bitty drop the subject. He wasn’t mistaken.

Chapter 3 

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: The fallout from suspensions, key injuries, Hughes signs and more (Mar 11)

Ramblings: The fallout from suspensions, key injuries, Hughes signs and more (Mar 11)

***

Now available for pre-sale – the 13th annual Interactive Playoff Draft List. Pre-order it here. It will be released the Friday before the season ends. If you bought the Ultimate Fantasy Pack in the summer, this will be included in that purchase. It is not included in the Keeper Fantasy Pack.

*

When Troy Terry picked up three points on Friday he became the first Anaheim rookie to do it in back-to-back games. He was shut out on Sunday but now is the time to go all in on the youngster, who has transitioned to the pro game very quickly and I think will have a productive campaign next season. Even Sam Steel is one to look at as well.

As an aside, I was looking at Steel’s Frozen Pool page and then I went to search on Google for his DobberProspects’ page when I remembered – Frozen Pool now automatically links the two. So I went to Info/Analysis on Steel and sure enough, there was the link. Research made easier. Steel has 34 points in 41 AHL games while Terry has 41 in 41. The Ducks are in transition now, whether they admit it or not.

*

Invasion of the Finns: never before has the NHL seen four Finns tally 30 goals in the same season. The last time three did it was 2005-06 with Teemu Selanne, Olli Jokinen and Jere Lehtinen. Right now Sebastian Aho and Mikko Rantanen are there, with Patrik Laine and Aleksander Barkov knocking on the door with 29. The next international tournament (be it the World Cup or the Olympics) will be interesting, with this country really making strikes over the last decade.

*

Quinn Hughes has signed with Vancouver! If what I understand is correct, he can’t play 10 games or he will become eligible for Seattle expansion. However, I would put money on him playing nine games and burning the first year of his three-year entry deal. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made an impact quickly. The Canucks are desperate for a puck-moving defenseman. I posted my Top 200 Fantasy Prospect Forwards rankings Sunday and will have the Top 50 Fantasy Prospect Defensemen up for Tuesday. Hughes is No.2 on that list (there’s a sneak peek for you).

Now over to you, Dante Fabbro.

*

Vladimir Tarasenko missed Saturday’s game with a UBI and now word has come out that he will be “re-evaluated” in 10 days. That pretty much says to me that he’s gone for at least three weeks and this could be something even more serious. Line combinations on Saturday, his first game out, looked like this:

#1

28.8%

O'REILLY,RYAN – SCHENN,BRAYDEN – SCHWARTZ,JADEN

#2

21.2%

BOZAK,TYLER – MAROON,PAT – THOMAS,ROBERT

#3

20.7%

SANFORD,ZACH – STEEN,ALEXANDER – SUNDQVIST,OSKAR

#4

10.6%

BARBASHEV,IVAN – BLAIS,SAMMY – MACEACHERN,MACKENZIE

  As for Jake Allen, he came off a shutout on March 7 and was put right back in there the very next game. I thought he played great Saturday, despite the OT loss – the Sharks dominated in the third and Allen was the reason it even went to overtime. Back-to-back Quality Stars for Allen and four out of his last five. The Blues really want to settle in on a goalie heading into the postseason, so Jordan Binnington (Winnington) will get the next start I’m sure – but he’ll be on a short leash. We’re closing in on the final 10 games and I feel like that will be the cutoff and one goalie will start eight of those 10.

*

Jakub Voracek has been suspended for two games for this hit:

{youtube}dub9ZwaR0gU{/youtube}

I’ve never seen a player get suspended for straightening up his back like that before and I have mixed thoughts on it. Yes, he saw him coming, but could that be explained away as trying to prevent getting pushed from behind? Did his elbow swing back and catch him? Could he have gotten out of the way? Just such a gray area. I guess if it was intentional and brutal it would have been five or more. Josh Bailey returned to the game.

Voracek played with Sean Couturier and Oskar Lindblom last game. Claude Giroux had been playing with JVR and Nolan Patrick. The line shuffling now will likely take Nolan Patrick off the Claude Giroux line and perhaps reunite Giroux with Couturier and Travis Konecny. But that’s purely a guess.

*

The news is crazy these last few days in terms of key guys missing time. Jack Eichel has also been suspended for two games for this hit to the head:

{youtube}vaTljDqCA-E{/youtube}

The initial Zadorov hit, while his shoulder missed the head – I think he planted his helmet on Eichel’s on purpose and he should have been suspended. Eichel’s suspension is cut and dried (unlike Voracek’s).

*

Samuel Montembeault, a goalie I have been a fan of for quite some time, now boasts a 2-0-1 record for the Panthers after starting two straight for them on the weekend. The team is playing well in front of him and he hasn’t been truly tested yet. But right now he is Florida’s best option in the pipeline and since this is a young team on the rise (yeah, I’ve said this for two years now but it’s gonna happen), this could end up being the perfect storm. Montembeault isn’t great, but he’s the team’s best at what could be the right time. The Cory Crawford, the Chris Osgood, or the Jordan Winnington.

Trading away Gustav Nyquist didn’t help Michael Rasmussen any. The rookie is still seeing nine minutes per game. They could be ruining him. I don’t like prospects who get stuck at nine minutes per game for an entire season. Rarely works out for them.

*

Jacob Trouba, a subject of the Top 10 list later Monday, saw 6:42 of PP time for the Jets on Sunday and came up empty. With Josh Morrissey and Dustin Byfuglien out, this is his time to show us a glimpse of what he can do.

While Trouba saw 6:42 on the power play alone, Jack Roslovic saw 6:45 of ice time, period. Roslovic, who is also a subject of the Top 10, had an assist in the contest.

*

After 19 consecutive games with a point, the mighty Bruins were stopped by the Penguins 4-2. Brad Marchand was minus-3.

Danton Heinen, who subbed in for David Pastrnak on the Marchand line, picked up two assists. He has 14 points in his last 16 games. He had 14 points in 39 games before that. Pastrnak is still out for another week.

With two points Sunday, Jake Guentzel has 53 in his last 51 games.

Jared McCann also had two points Sunday and he has eight in his last seven games. I remember poolies jumped on him really quickly when he surprisingly made the Canucks as a 19-year-old in 2015. He was rushed. The Stratford native (as am I) is now in his fourth NHL season, though he was mostly in the minors for one of them, so I consider this his third. He’s clicking with Sidney Crosby and Jake Guentzel. We’ve learned from Conor Sheary (and going further back – Colby Armstrong) that there is no guarantee with this plum placement when an entire summer disrupts the chemistry, I do have more confidence in McCann’s upside and pedigree than I had with Sheary. And ten times out of ten I would roll the dice on just the ‘chance’ that it continues on into next season.

*

The 3M line was at it big time for the Flames Sunday. Mikael Backlund, Matt Tkachuk and Michal Frolik combined for 11 points. For Frolik, the biggest beneficiary of this arrangement, he tallied four assists after having gone six games without a point.

After starting off with a bang, tallying 13 points in 11 games, Brandon Pirri has just three in his last 16 including a goal on Sunday against the Flames.

*

Goals in back-to-back games for Carl Grundstrom in his NHL debut for Los Angeles. The Kings picked up Grundstrom from the Leafs in the Jake Muzzin trade. He also dished out three Hits, though it seemed like more. He’s already drawing comparisons stylistically to Dustin Brown, and I suspect he can put up similar numbers at his peak (55-plus points, 250-plus hits). He didn’t look out of place and I think there is a spot waiting for him on the big club in the fall.

Read Grundstrom’s fantasy scouting profile and PNHLe graph here.

*

It’s as if signing the big contract has helped Jakob Silfverberg turn the corner. He now has points in five straight games, seven in that span. And that’s on a team that is really just not scoring. We know this song and dance already, though. Every year, without fail, in either the first or the second half he produces like a 70-point player but in the other half of that season he produces like a 20-point player. If only we could get an advanced heads up on which half will be which. With the GM coaching the team right now, I feel pretty comfortable with Silf continuing for the duration. Bob Murray needs to make his latest big signing look like a good one, and you can see it in Jakob’s minutes – both at ES and on the PP.

*

Frozen Tools update: A new stat has been added, as well as two new reports. The stat is PPPts/60 which, obviously, is a player’s power-play points rate if broken up into 60 minutes of PP time (to match the regular pts/60 stat). It gives us a great look at how effective players have been on the power play and in my case at least it helps me evaluate how a young offensive player is trending/developing.

Also, goalie home/away splits are in now. Just go to the Report Generator, select goalies, and one of the buttons is cleverly entitled “Goalie Home/Away”.

DobberProspects update: Each scouting profile not only has our upside and certainty ranking at the top, scouting observations in the middle and the Elite Prospects career stats at the bottom…but now it has Mason Black’s fun pNHLe chart at the bottom. It takes a player’s stats in a given league at a given age and averages it out against history, spitting out his NHL potential upside. This didn’t get up and perfected until middle of last week (though I had posted it in last Monday’s Ramblings).

*

See you next Monday.

    from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-the-fallout-from-suspensions-key-injuries-hughes-signs-and-more-mar-11/

[flauntpage]

DGB Grab Bag: Loser Mobiles at Cup Parades, Drunk Ovi, and Emotions are Good

Three Stars of Oh, Who Are We Kidding, Let's All Enjoy Drunk Alexander Ovechkin

The third star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – The keg stand is solid, but it's the way he eggs on the crowd chanting his name that really makes the moment.

The second star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – Good news, Habs fans, we have our first ever sighting of a Weber getting close to a Stanley Cup championship.

The first star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – This is my favorite moment, partly for the unbridled joy and comradery and impressive form, but mainly because until this moment I'd forgotten about the back tattoos.

Honorable mentions: Slightly-less-drunk Alexander Ovechkin, Drunk Alexander Ovechkin's dog, very-far-away Alexander Ovechkin, T.J. Oshie's shirt-trading, and Jakub Vrana's tattoo experience.

The NHL Capitals Actually Got Something right

Do you remember a time back before Alexander Ovechkin was permanently drunk, wandering the streets of D.C. with the Stanley Cup and singing "We Are The Champions" on a permanent loop? Neither do I, but I looked it up and it was a week ago.

Let's think back to that time, back before the Capitals were champions. What will you remember about Ovechkin's playoff run? Chances are, you'll remember him scoring some of the Caps' biggest goals. That's how it works with superstars. But you might also remember something a little bit odd—namely, the things he did when he was off the ice and on the bench.

Watching Ovechkin watch the Capitals play for the Stanley Cup turned out to be one of the highlights of the Final. When things went well, he look overjoyed. When they didn't, he looked crushed. When we weren't sure how something would end up, he looked like he wanted to puke. In short, he looked like you or me watching our favorite team, except with the dial cranked up to 11. It was the best.

And how did it end? With the Capitals winning. Yes, despite everything we've been led to believe over the years, a team was somehow able to overcome the insurmountable obstacle of one of its key players looking like he actually cared.

Ovechkin didn't try to play the stoic. He occasionally said something beyond the usual claims of it being just another game. He didn't keep his head down and mumble about getting pucks in deep, just in case he accidentally said anything that might turn into A Thing. He didn't bother to pretend that this stuff didn't matter, because we all knew how much it did.

And it wasn't just Ovechkin. The Caps had Evgeny Kuznetsov doing his little bird dance celebration. They had Devante Smith-Pelly looking like he might explode with joy after every big play. They even had Nicklas Backstrom showing honest-to-god frustration, allegedly.

And they still won. The hockey gods did not smite them.

Let's take the hint. Enough with this nonsense about hockey players all having to look like bored zombies, whether times are good or bad or in between. That's one way to act. It's not the only way. Enough of pretending that it's somehow bad form to show any emotion in one of the most emotional sports on the planet.

It's been like this for a long time in the NHL, but the idea has really taken hold in recent years thanks to a combined six titles by the Penguins and Blackhawks, teams that are fast and fun and captained by two of the most boring people on Earth. And that's fine! Maybe Sidney Crosby and Jonathan Toews are just like that. Some people are. I'm one of them. Maybe you are too. The Capitals have one in Braden Holtby. Some of us don't like emotional displays or facial expressions or interacting with the outside world.

But some people do. And apparently, those people can win Stanley Cups. So let's stop acting like it's some sort of crisis every time a hockey player cracks a smile or hangs his head on the bench or celebrates a big play. Enough with the body language police forensics squad showing up, and enough with trying to divine a man's character based on whether he had the right type of scowl after the game.

It's hockey. Sometimes it's fun. Sometimes it's miserable. Players who react like actual human beings are apparently not barred by cosmic law from ever getting their hands on the Stanley Cup, so let's stop acting like it's a problem.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Since we all had so much fun watching the current Capitals captain this week, let's use this week's space to remember their first one. This week's obscure player is Doug "Diesel" Mohns.

Mohns was a speedy winger who won two Memorial Cups with the Barrie Flyers in the early 50s. He signed with the Bruins and debuted in 1953, then spent 11 seasons in Boston, many of them playing defense. He was traded to Chicago in 1964 for Ab McDonald and Reggie Fleming, and would eventually take McDonald's place on Stan Mikita's wing as part of the "Scooter Line" and had a career-high 25 goals during the 1966-67 season.

Mohns lasted almost seven years in Chicago before being dealt to the North Stars, and was later claimed by the Atlanta Flames in the inter-league draft. In 1974, the Flames sold him to the expansion Capitals, where he'd play his final season at the age of 40. He was named captain and patrolled the blueline for that miserable team, while racking up an impressive -54 rating. Somewhat amazingly, that wasn't the worst mark of his career; he'd somehow gone -62 for the 1961-62 Bruins, the worst mark ever recorded at the time. But apart from those two season, he was a plus-player over the rest of his 1,391-game career, and he'd retire after that one season in Washington with 248 goals and 710 points.

He may be best remembered for being one of the first NHL players to wear a helmet. Head protection was apparently very important to him; according to the Hockey Hall of Fame, he was also one of the first NHL players to wear a toupee.

Mohns passed away in 2014 at the age of 80. His official web site is still up and running, and you can visit it here.

Be It Resolved

The Capitals had their Stanley Cup parade on Tuesday, and it was good. Evgeny Kuznetsov swore. Ovechkin shut down Mumford and Sons and then swore. TJ Oshie chugged a beer through his jersey. All good.

But it could have been better.

They all could. A Cup parade is the ultimate chance for hockey fans to experience the joy of victory—to share the experience with hundreds of thousands of fellow fans, and with the players and coaches who made it possible. It's the ultimate hockey lovefest.

But that's only half of what being a hockey fan is all about. Sure, it's fun to feel happy when your team wins it all, or at least that's how it's been explained to me. But there's the other side of the coin that hockey fans love just as much: Watching your opponents cry. Seeing some other team's players or fans or media sulk their way through the aftermath of your victory is almost as much fun as the actual win. Maybe more.

So let's make it part of the Stanley Cup parade.

Be it resolved: From now on, every team that wins the Cup gets to invite one person from outside the organization to their parade. And that person has to attend.

Specifically, they have to attend in a little car that will trail about a half-block behind the parade. Let's call it the loser-mobile. People are allowed to taunt and throw spoiled fruit at it. And then we make the person sit in the front row during the speeches.

Look, I can tell you have questions. Would the person who was chosen want to come to the parade? No, of course not. Would we be able to force them? Yes, we could find a way. Would doing that be, in the strictest legal sense, kidnapping? Maybe, but if I've learned anything in the last few years it's that laws can be applied selectively.

Is this whole idea just mean? Yes. Yes it is. It's super-mean. So let's do it.

How much fun would it be to argue over who each year's winner should pick to ride in the loser-mobile? Imagine the possibilities for this year's Capitals. Sure, you're probably thinking Sidney Crosby as the obvious choice, but I'm not sure that works; he could just spend the whole time flashing his three Cup rings at the fans. But there are plenty of other candidates. Maybe George McPhee? Whichever media guy wrote the hottest "Ovechkin will never win it all" take? Pierre Turgeon, with Dale Hunter driving right behind him the whole way? Filip Forsberg, and make him wear a Martin Erat jersey? Personally, I'd go with Henrik Lundqvist just to be a jerk, but you make your own call.

More importantly, book some time off this afternoon to think about who you'd choose for your own favorite team. It could be a rival who always had your number, a referee who screwed you over, a cheapskate owner who ruined your childhood (Personally, I vote for the Leafs to dig up Harold Ballard.) Or maybe just some especially annoying idiot from Twitter who talked a little too much trash. Anything you want.

This is the worst idea I've ever had and I'm convinced we need to make it happen. Get the stun guns and duct tape and meet me by the parade route.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Washington's win was an exciting moment for this section, since no franchise has provided more YouTube joy than the Capitals and their bizarre infatuation with producing terrible music videos. Over the years, we've enjoyed breaking down musical creations like "Capital Feeling", "Out on Top", "Double Trouble" and "More Than a Team". Alexander Ovechkin even had a hand in the monstrosity that was "Shaybu Shaybu". If you like cheesy music videos and playoff disappointment, the Capitals were the team for you.

The second half of that equation doesn't really apply anymore. But we've still got the music. So until we get a full remaster of that "We are the Champions" single that Ovie and the boys have been working on, let's look back to 1990, as the Capitals celebrate their first ever championship. Well, division title. Look, until last week, you took what you could get in Washington.

It's April 27, 1990, and the Caps have just beaten the Rangers in overtime to win their second-round series in five games. It's the first time in franchise history that they've made it out of the second round, and they're officially Patrick Division champions. I think this calls for a song.

Well, first it calls for our two announcers to awkwardly introduce the clip. That's Mike Fornes doing the talking, and the legendary Smokin' Al Koken staring at you until you start to feel uncomfortable.

It's a little strange that apart from his hair going gray, Koken looks exactly the same as he does today, right?

Anyway, Fornes and Koken introduce a music piece entitled "What a Feeling" before presumably dashing off to whichever high school prom they're wearing those corsages for.

The music kicks in, and we're immediately crushed by the disappointment of realizing that this video will be set to the actual "What a Feeling" song as performed by Irene Cara, and not some terrible lip sync job by actual Capitals players. Still, it's a solid choice, and I like that it implies that this channel had been planning a division title montage since the song came out in 1983 and was only getting a chance to do it now.

We start off with John Druce's overtime winner from that very night, as shown from a weird angle that doesn't really make it all that clear what happened. But it's worth it, because they stay with the shot forever, and we get one of the longest recorded pilearchies I've ever seen. It just goes on forever, to the point that you start wondering how many players were on the 1990 Capitals. I'm pretty sure I saw Jim Hrycuik slip into the pile at the end there.

We then cut to a shot of cheering Caps fans, which we know is from a different game because the Druce goal was in New York. That's fine, because the fans are great. The highlight is the old lady in a Capitals sweater that's literally a sweater, and that I'm hoping against hope she knit herself. She is not messing around with that "Let's Go Caps" chant. If the Capitals teams of the era had been able to match her intensity they might have won multiple Cups.

We get another John Druce goal, because this Caps' run was pretty much all John Druce goals. That's followed by a quick shot of the Caps' arena, including a scoreboard which literally seems to be four giant rear-projection TVs stuck together.

More cheering fans. Is it weird that I'm picking out individual faces in the crowd and wondering how many of them stuck with the team through the next 28 years and were still around for last week's win? I kind of hope it's all of them.

We get a look at goals by Mike Ridley and Calle Johansson, and then what probably stands as the most important moment in the series: the game four OT winner from captain Rod Langway. That sets off another epic hug pile, followed by Langway being mobbed by the 14 different enforcers that were in the Capitals' lineup that year. He doesn't seem to mind. He's not "forcing my teammates to sing a terrible song at my sports bar" happy, but he's still pretty happy.

And that's it. Fornes is back for a quick goodbye, and our clip is done. The Caps were too, four games later—this would turn out to be their last win of the season, and they were swept by the Bruins in the conference final. They wouldn't see the third round again until their 1998 run to the Final, and then not again until this year.

There is no evidence that any members of the 1990 Capitals celebrated the win by swimming in a fountain.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at nhlgrabbag@gmail.com.

DGB Grab Bag: Loser Mobiles at Cup Parades, Drunk Ovi, and Emotions are Good published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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DGB Grab Bag: Loser Mobiles at Cup Parades, Drunk Ovi, and Emotions are Good

Three Stars of Oh, Who Are We Kidding, Let’s All Enjoy Drunk Alexander Ovechkin

The third star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – The keg stand is solid, but it’s the way he eggs on the crowd chanting his name that really makes the moment.

The second star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – Good news, Habs fans, we have our first ever sighting of a Weber getting close to a Stanley Cup championship.

The first star: Drunk Alexander Ovechkin – This is my favorite moment, partly for the unbridled joy and comradery and impressive form, but mainly because until this moment I’d forgotten about the back tattoos.

Honorable mentions: Slightly-less-drunk Alexander Ovechkin, Drunk Alexander Ovechkin’s dog, very-far-away Alexander Ovechkin, T.J. Oshie’s shirt-trading, and Jakub Vrana’s tattoo experience.

The NHL Capitals Actually Got Something right

Do you remember a time back before Alexander Ovechkin was permanently drunk, wandering the streets of D.C. with the Stanley Cup and singing “We Are The Champions” on a permanent loop? Neither do I, but I looked it up and it was a week ago.

Let’s think back to that time, back before the Capitals were champions. What will you remember about Ovechkin’s playoff run? Chances are, you’ll remember him scoring some of the Caps’ biggest goals. That’s how it works with superstars. But you might also remember something a little bit odd—namely, the things he did when he was off the ice and on the bench.

Watching Ovechkin watch the Capitals play for the Stanley Cup turned out to be one of the highlights of the Final. When things went well, he look overjoyed. When they didn’t, he looked crushed. When we weren’t sure how something would end up, he looked like he wanted to puke. In short, he looked like you or me watching our favorite team, except with the dial cranked up to 11. It was the best.

And how did it end? With the Capitals winning. Yes, despite everything we’ve been led to believe over the years, a team was somehow able to overcome the insurmountable obstacle of one of its key players looking like he actually cared.

Ovechkin didn’t try to play the stoic. He occasionally said something beyond the usual claims of it being just another game. He didn’t keep his head down and mumble about getting pucks in deep, just in case he accidentally said anything that might turn into A Thing. He didn’t bother to pretend that this stuff didn’t matter, because we all knew how much it did.

And it wasn’t just Ovechkin. The Caps had Evgeny Kuznetsov doing his little bird dance celebration. They had Devante Smith-Pelly looking like he might explode with joy after every big play. They even had Nicklas Backstrom showing honest-to-god frustration, allegedly.

And they still won. The hockey gods did not smite them.

Let’s take the hint. Enough with this nonsense about hockey players all having to look like bored zombies, whether times are good or bad or in between. That’s one way to act. It’s not the only way. Enough of pretending that it’s somehow bad form to show any emotion in one of the most emotional sports on the planet.

It’s been like this for a long time in the NHL, but the idea has really taken hold in recent years thanks to a combined six titles by the Penguins and Blackhawks, teams that are fast and fun and captained by two of the most boring people on Earth. And that’s fine! Maybe Sidney Crosby and Jonathan Toews are just like that. Some people are. I’m one of them. Maybe you are too. The Capitals have one in Braden Holtby. Some of us don’t like emotional displays or facial expressions or interacting with the outside world.

But some people do. And apparently, those people can win Stanley Cups. So let’s stop acting like it’s some sort of crisis every time a hockey player cracks a smile or hangs his head on the bench or celebrates a big play. Enough with the body language police forensics squad showing up, and enough with trying to divine a man’s character based on whether he had the right type of scowl after the game.

It’s hockey. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s miserable. Players who react like actual human beings are apparently not barred by cosmic law from ever getting their hands on the Stanley Cup, so let’s stop acting like it’s a problem.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

Since we all had so much fun watching the current Capitals captain this week, let’s use this week’s space to remember their first one. This week’s obscure player is Doug “Diesel” Mohns.

Mohns was a speedy winger who won two Memorial Cups with the Barrie Flyers in the early 50s. He signed with the Bruins and debuted in 1953, then spent 11 seasons in Boston, many of them playing defense. He was traded to Chicago in 1964 for Ab McDonald and Reggie Fleming, and would eventually take McDonald’s place on Stan Mikita’s wing as part of the “Scooter Line” and had a career-high 25 goals during the 1966-67 season.

Mohns lasted almost seven years in Chicago before being dealt to the North Stars, and was later claimed by the Atlanta Flames in the inter-league draft. In 1974, the Flames sold him to the expansion Capitals, where he’d play his final season at the age of 40. He was named captain and patrolled the blueline for that miserable team, while racking up an impressive -54 rating. Somewhat amazingly, that wasn’t the worst mark of his career; he’d somehow gone -62 for the 1961-62 Bruins, the worst mark ever recorded at the time. But apart from those two season, he was a plus-player over the rest of his 1,391-game career, and he’d retire after that one season in Washington with 248 goals and 710 points.

He may be best remembered for being one of the first NHL players to wear a helmet. Head protection was apparently very important to him; according to the Hockey Hall of Fame, he was also one of the first NHL players to wear a toupee.

Mohns passed away in 2014 at the age of 80. His official web site is still up and running, and you can visit it here.

Be It Resolved

The Capitals had their Stanley Cup parade on Tuesday, and it was good. Evgeny Kuznetsov swore. Ovechkin shut down Mumford and Sons and then swore. TJ Oshie chugged a beer through his jersey. All good.

But it could have been better.

They all could. A Cup parade is the ultimate chance for hockey fans to experience the joy of victory—to share the experience with hundreds of thousands of fellow fans, and with the players and coaches who made it possible. It’s the ultimate hockey lovefest.

But that’s only half of what being a hockey fan is all about. Sure, it’s fun to feel happy when your team wins it all, or at least that’s how it’s been explained to me. But there’s the other side of the coin that hockey fans love just as much: Watching your opponents cry. Seeing some other team’s players or fans or media sulk their way through the aftermath of your victory is almost as much fun as the actual win. Maybe more.

So let’s make it part of the Stanley Cup parade.

Be it resolved: From now on, every team that wins the Cup gets to invite one person from outside the organization to their parade. And that person has to attend.

Specifically, they have to attend in a little car that will trail about a half-block behind the parade. Let’s call it the loser-mobile. People are allowed to taunt and throw spoiled fruit at it. And then we make the person sit in the front row during the speeches.

Look, I can tell you have questions. Would the person who was chosen want to come to the parade? No, of course not. Would we be able to force them? Yes, we could find a way. Would doing that be, in the strictest legal sense, kidnapping? Maybe, but if I’ve learned anything in the last few years it’s that laws can be applied selectively.

Is this whole idea just mean? Yes. Yes it is. It’s super-mean. So let’s do it.

How much fun would it be to argue over who each year’s winner should pick to ride in the loser-mobile? Imagine the possibilities for this year’s Capitals. Sure, you’re probably thinking Sidney Crosby as the obvious choice, but I’m not sure that works; he could just spend the whole time flashing his three Cup rings at the fans. But there are plenty of other candidates. Maybe George McPhee? Whichever media guy wrote the hottest “Ovechkin will never win it all” take? Pierre Turgeon, with Dale Hunter driving right behind him the whole way? Filip Forsberg, and make him wear a Martin Erat jersey? Personally, I’d go with Henrik Lundqvist just to be a jerk, but you make your own call.

More importantly, book some time off this afternoon to think about who you’d choose for your own favorite team. It could be a rival who always had your number, a referee who screwed you over, a cheapskate owner who ruined your childhood (Personally, I vote for the Leafs to dig up Harold Ballard.) Or maybe just some especially annoying idiot from Twitter who talked a little too much trash. Anything you want.

This is the worst idea I’ve ever had and I’m convinced we need to make it happen. Get the stun guns and duct tape and meet me by the parade route.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

Washington’s win was an exciting moment for this section, since no franchise has provided more YouTube joy than the Capitals and their bizarre infatuation with producing terrible music videos. Over the years, we’ve enjoyed breaking down musical creations like “Capital Feeling”, “Out on Top”, “Double Trouble” and “More Than a Team”. Alexander Ovechkin even had a hand in the monstrosity that was “Shaybu Shaybu”. If you like cheesy music videos and playoff disappointment, the Capitals were the team for you.

The second half of that equation doesn’t really apply anymore. But we’ve still got the music. So until we get a full remaster of that “We are the Champions” single that Ovie and the boys have been working on, let’s look back to 1990, as the Capitals celebrate their first ever championship. Well, division title. Look, until last week, you took what you could get in Washington.

It’s April 27, 1990, and the Caps have just beaten the Rangers in overtime to win their second-round series in five games. It’s the first time in franchise history that they’ve made it out of the second round, and they’re officially Patrick Division champions. I think this calls for a song.

Well, first it calls for our two announcers to awkwardly introduce the clip. That’s Mike Fornes doing the talking, and the legendary Smokin’ Al Koken staring at you until you start to feel uncomfortable.

It’s a little strange that apart from his hair going gray, Koken looks exactly the same as he does today, right?

Anyway, Fornes and Koken introduce a music piece entitled “What a Feeling” before presumably dashing off to whichever high school prom they’re wearing those corsages for.

The music kicks in, and we’re immediately crushed by the disappointment of realizing that this video will be set to the actual “What a Feeling” song as performed by Irene Cara, and not some terrible lip sync job by actual Capitals players. Still, it’s a solid choice, and I like that it implies that this channel had been planning a division title montage since the song came out in 1983 and was only getting a chance to do it now.

We start off with John Druce’s overtime winner from that very night, as shown from a weird angle that doesn’t really make it all that clear what happened. But it’s worth it, because they stay with the shot forever, and we get one of the longest recorded pilearchies I’ve ever seen. It just goes on forever, to the point that you start wondering how many players were on the 1990 Capitals. I’m pretty sure I saw Jim Hrycuik slip into the pile at the end there.

We then cut to a shot of cheering Caps fans, which we know is from a different game because the Druce goal was in New York. That’s fine, because the fans are great. The highlight is the old lady in a Capitals sweater that’s literally a sweater, and that I’m hoping against hope she knit herself. She is not messing around with that “Let’s Go Caps” chant. If the Capitals teams of the era had been able to match her intensity they might have won multiple Cups.

We get another John Druce goal, because this Caps’ run was pretty much all John Druce goals. That’s followed by a quick shot of the Caps’ arena, including a scoreboard which literally seems to be four giant rear-projection TVs stuck together.

More cheering fans. Is it weird that I’m picking out individual faces in the crowd and wondering how many of them stuck with the team through the next 28 years and were still around for last week’s win? I kind of hope it’s all of them.

We get a look at goals by Mike Ridley and Calle Johansson, and then what probably stands as the most important moment in the series: the game four OT winner from captain Rod Langway. That sets off another epic hug pile, followed by Langway being mobbed by the 14 different enforcers that were in the Capitals’ lineup that year. He doesn’t seem to mind. He’s not “forcing my teammates to sing a terrible song at my sports bar” happy, but he’s still pretty happy.

And that’s it. Fornes is back for a quick goodbye, and our clip is done. The Caps were too, four games later—this would turn out to be their last win of the season, and they were swept by the Bruins in the conference final. They wouldn’t see the third round again until their 1998 run to the Final, and then not again until this year.

There is no evidence that any members of the 1990 Capitals celebrated the win by swimming in a fountain.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you’d like to see included in this column? Email Sean at nhlgrabbag@gmail.com.

DGB Grab Bag: Loser Mobiles at Cup Parades, Drunk Ovi, and Emotions are Good syndicated from https://australiahoverboards.wordpress.com