#here's hoping my bad brain lets off a little bit more in 2024 and I can make some more art | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlebitsmile · 11 months ago

Text

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter III

Welcome back! This took me a bit longer than usual, but it's still Sunday, so I'm glad you decided to join me (: Hope you all had a nice first week of 2024 - only 55 more days until we see our munchkins driving in circles again - hope this makes the wait a bit shorter.

As always, have fun (:

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R III ɞ────

Music booms from the headphones in my ear, my feet float over the treadmill, drops of sweat run down the sides of my face. Next to me, all I can hear is Max's heavy breathing and the occasional quiet "f*ck" as another intensive interval approaches. My calves gave up the ghost ten minutes ago and have been cramping ever since, but my pride won't let me stop.

I actually wanted to squeeze in an extra training session this morning before Max woke up and wanted to hang out and do some off-season stuff, but unfortunately, he was already at the coffee machine when I decided to roll out of bed. He then followed me into the fitness room of his apartment without any comment.

He has been kind enough to let me stay with him, Kelly, and Penelope for a few years now so that I can avoid living with our parents and even worse, letting them decide what happens next with my accommodation situation. As the eldest son, he has probably had his experiences and learned his lessons, always being the one to take the blows, and although he always pretends to give me a hard time, I'm sure that deep down he doesn't want me to go through the same hell he did. The fact that I can never come close to his golden boy in our father's eyes anyway is a different story.

I breathe heavily but try to concentrate on the view. Monaco's harbor landscape is one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. A little too much lifestyle of the rich and famous for my liking, but Max loved it here right from the start, when we first visited a few years ago. Maybe because he can live right next to the racetrack, waking up every morning and sipping his breakfast coffee with his brain already imagining those cars on the streets right in front of him.

"You're quiet," he presses out between his lips at some point. I don't look at him but concentrate on a small yacht that is about to leave the outer jetties. He gets a kick out of seeing me suffer, I’m sure of it. If I don’t let myself get distracted by the pain in my legs, I can do a few more minutes on this torture device.

"I'm dying," I reply, trying not to fall down at the same time. My diaphragm starts to painfully remind me that I'm not my 26-year-old racing brother, who has been doing this for years and years, never losing sight of his goals, exceeding his limits.

He reduces the speed on his treadmill and starts to jog slowly before continuing: "When are you flying to England? For simulator runs and so on?"

I'm still running at the same pace as before. I try to show February 15 with my hands, holding all of my ten fingers up, then five and the peace sign as a two, but I'm not sure if he immediately understands what I mean.

In the time between the end of the season and the first pre-season tests, the world stands still in my head. I enjoy visiting friends for once and not feeling bad when I see photos in our group chats of everyone getting together and me missing. Max, on the other hand, never leaves his zone - his racing set up in his study glows for hours every day. When he's not training, eating, or sleeping, he lives and breathes motorsport, whether it’s on or off track. Maybe that's why he's such an exceptional talent. Or maybe he is just stupid, for not living his life during his prime time and will fall into a pit of self-despair when he’s 40.

"Excited?" he interrupts my thoughts. I can’t remember what we were talking about, and he notices. “For the UK, I mean? Rain and cloudy weather?”

I nod. My lungs are burning, and I don't know who exactly I'm trying to prove something to. I keep running, my thighs are starting to burn like hell. A few of my fingertips go numb, and my head starts to feel dizzy. There are a few black dots here and there, but it isn’t the first time something like this happens and it won’t be the last.

"What number are you going to start with?" Max asks. I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to give too much away about whether I'll keep my number from Formula 2 or change it. Mostly because I haven’t thought about it and I would love to have a number with a deeper meaning.

"You could take 69."

When he says this, I almost stumble on the treadmill. I hold on left and right and hop onto the side edges as the mechanical noise belt continues to run beneath me. Although everything inside me hurts like hell after the last hour and a half of running, I must laugh out loud. Max grins sheepishly at me. Sometimes I am not sure who of us is the older sibling.

"I think that would be more your thing, don't you?" Out of breath, I put my hands on my hips and lean my upper body against the treadmill display. I try to calm my heartbeat, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"I've already got the 1; that's enough for me..."

“You won’t have it forever, though," I interrupt him before he falls into another monologue of self-congratulation. I wiggle my eyebrows and grin mischievously at him. Then I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before hitting me on the shoulder with his fist.

"The only one I'm afraid of is you,” he admits openly. I look at him in disbelief. Where has this recognition suddenly come from? I almost choke on the sip of water I’m taking. “But you're in the wrong car anyway, so at least I don't have much to fear this season.”

"I don't need your false assumptions, Max. We've never lied to each other." I look into the distance, back to the harbor. I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't the person I am.

"I'm not lying, I promise. I'm more afraid that this team will take you down with them."

"Aston Martin won't drag me into the abyss. They're giving me a fair chance."

"You would have had a fair chance with me and Red Bull."

"Fair, Max? Really? As number two? How well did that turn out with the last team partners? Lewis and Nico? Lewis and Valtteri? You and pretty much everyone who came after Sebastian? The only off-track friends who were in the same team and still get on well are Carlos and Lando. I don't want that for us." Now I turn to him. A furrow forms between his eyebrows, and he looks down at the ground. He knows I am right, and I think that causes him greater pain than what I just said about us not being able to be proper teammates.

"If you don't perform at Aston Martin, if you even get the chance to show what you are capable of in that sh*tbox of a car, then no other team will take you. There is only one chance to be part of this grid, and I just can’t believe you would rather not drive at all than have me as your team partner?" He is frustrated, I can feel it in his voice. So I try to soften my voice and understand him from his point of view.

"Max, I love you; I really do. You're the coolest brother in the world, and I'm not saying that because I get to live in your cool penthouse in the middle of Monaco.” There is a chuckle, and I know he wants to reassure me that he loves to have me here with him. But before he can speak another word, I continue. “But I've been compared to you my whole life and I will continue to be. This hasn’t been easy, for any of us. But for a change, I can decide for myself whether to confront it or if I just leave my phone off and not read the news, because no one in my own team will compare me to you." The conversation has taken on a serious tone, but I know he understands what I mean.

"I get it. I still would have liked you to be the wing woman. Pretty sure we’d be great. With you keeping all those madmen away from me." He winks. Then he looks straight ahead towards the panoramic window. It's quiet between us for a while.

I think back to his first victory with Red Bull. How he threw himself into the arms of his team afterward, so proud and so full of emotion, as if someone was finally accepting him for who he is, no ifs, ands, or buts. He doesn't talk much about his relationship with Christian Horner, but I'm 90% sure that Christian is in many ways the father figure for Max that our father could never be for him. How he has grown with this team and gone from a really misunderstood driver to a three-time world champion. He wouldn't leave Red Bull until they cut him out from inside with a digger and chainsaw and shipped him to the other side of the world. He lives, breathes, and burns for this sport and for the people in his immediate surroundings, a quality that I greatly admire in him and that not everyone is able to appreciate.

"If you could be someone else or do something else, what would it be?" The question catches him off guard. He is confused for a moment, then looks thoughtful and shakes his head.

"I don't think I want to be – can be - anywhere else. This is where I belong."

I believe him. But suddenly I'm not so sure if my answer would be the same.

As the plane lands in London, I grab my backpack, put on my cap, and hide my face a little better. I'm almost certain that some paparazzi is waiting for me in the arrivals hall because I seem to be the only one from the F1 paddock not traveling by a private jet. I wonder why.

I quickly get through security and baggage claim, so it feels like no more than 30 minutes before I step through the airport doors and out into rainy UK weather. To my right, an elderly gentleman with a sign saying "Emma V." walks towards me and takes my luggage. I thank him, get in the car, and then we make our way to the Aston Martin headquarters. I fall asleep unplanned and only wake up when we arrive.

I am overwhelmed by the polished floors, the glass structures of the building, how everything looks as if this is not the headquarters of a Formula 1 team but of Iron Man and the Avengers.

Mike Krack, the team principal, comes to meet me, shakes my hand, and welcomes me to the hallowed halls. I'm then given a tour, starting with the departments I'm least interested in, such as budget and logistics. I know these people are as important as anyone else, but I am a driver, so the technical departments will be my home base.

"But you're certainly not here to look at the view. You want to go to the simulators, right?" Mike states correctly at some point. I nod vigorously. "Then that's our next destination."

And no matter what I was expecting, it wasn’t that. As I step into a room with a screen as big as the panoramic view back at Max’s apartment, I immediately want to leap into the seat in front of it. I wait for a nod of approval from Mike before I hop into it and feel the leather beneath my hands and notice the smell of something new. I shriek. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. And before someone can stop me, I’m already turning the machine on and getting ready to drive my first laps in the simulator.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter II] [Chapter IV] ɞ────

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #slow burn #f1 imagine #haters to lovers

50 notes · View notes

willtasker · 1 month ago

Text

NYCC 2024: A (Redacted) Review

I had planned out NYCC months ago, back when they announced Hayley Atwell in the spring. Everything else in 2024 had the volume turned down after that announcement. And with time, they also announced some of the cast of Starship Troopers and then Rachael Leigh Cook.

I'm happy to say that everyone was wonderful, glowing even. Some maybe a little more than others but over all, this was by far the best year I had at a convention in terms of people just being... nice.

So foremost is that I overbooked myself. Five cast members from Starship Troopers was at the same table and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that slip by. I had to go Thursday, as Dina Meyer ((see above)) was only there for one day only. She was an absolute sweetheart, despite trying to duck out to make her plane on time. I almost walked away before they called me back because I forgot to take this photo with her. "Give me some sass" is what I heard in my ear over the deafening crowd and ... well, its not my worst photo but certainly not my favorite either. But she has these huge, chonky glasses I wish she'd kept on for the photos.

Michael Ironside was incredible. I've been a fan of his for decades and despite having a voice like a gravel quarry and that constant sneer painted over his face, he was very funny and very warm. He noticeably perked up when I mentioned his performance in "Crime & Punishment In Suburbia" and how Roger Ebert said it was the best work of his career. He nodded in approval, "I'm glad someone saw that. The director is a a good friend of mine."

Casper Van Dien was ... actually exactly what I suspected. He was standing in front of his table, talking to everyone, pitching the new SST Extermination game. He's high energy, happy to see you, quick with a joke.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a lot of time with either Seth Gilliam or Denise Richards. Seth was on his way out but seemed to be overly kind with everyone there? Does that make sense? Denise was rushing to get out because she had some sort of socialite appointment elsewhere in NYC but she was trying so hard to be accommodating and patient with people. I think she was aware of what her legacy is with men of a certain age. I purposely didn't take too long at her table - it was 7 pm and everyone was tired - and I think she appreciated the fact I didn't make a bad pass at her or stop the line for 5 minutes to show her art I had done in the hopes she'd follow my Instagram (witnessed both of these things happen in real time).

Now on to the main event:

I didn't know what to expect from Hayley. I'd never met anyone who had interacted with her, so I was a little pensive at first. I had brought two photos for her to sign - the one above I had blown up to an egregious size - but it was the other one that rang her bell.

The person running the cashbox passed my photos down and said "Hayley we have some very nice photos from this gentle..."

"This is from Howard's End!" Her eyes popped, a mix of genuine surprise and appreciation behind them.

We talked a little bit about her Margaret Schlegel versus the 1992 movie. She asked me a couple of small questions before we really hit it off on something I wouldn't expect: I told her how I found a lot of American television too "active" and how much comfort I found in rewatching not only Howard's End but just UK television in general. She sized me up quietly before agreeing, telling me she watches the same handful of shows over and over to unwind, as a comfort.

She signed the Howard's End photo first (not pictured here, I've determined it is a little too personal), then the above photo before going back to the first photo with "May I add a quote to this?"

I was left with words in my mouth for a second. I managed to say "Please!" once my brain rebooted and she said "I loved this character so much. And this quote." After we said our goodbyes - she's so effusive, high energy - I quietly found a corner of the convention hall to see she'd written "Only Connect" under her name and I sighed like an old dog sleeping on a cold kitchen floor.

I later had a photo op with her. I look pretty stiff and not my best but I've taken worse photos. She was extremely gentle with everyone in line, I think getting a sense that most everyone was having the same "Holy shit, thats Hayley Atwell" realization.

Finally, and certainly not the least of all...

Rachael Leigh Cook came out an hour late, wearing a cream colored sweater and necklace. Laugh as you must, gentle reader, but I'm absolutely going to my therapist this week to ask why a stranger like herself is so completely nice to everyone (but especially: why is she nice to me). She's the type who touches people on the hand or arm as they talk - she hugged the couple in front of me when they mentioned their engagement - and she has this natural ... I honestly don't know what to call it - grace? vibe? spirit? ... that makes the cold hearth of my soul blaze like a Christmas fireplace. I don't mean to suggest theres any sort of connection, simply that she gives off a vibe of generosity and familiarity that I've only ever felt with old girlfriends.

I thanked her for her performance in Stateside, which made her eyebrows go up like a Tex Avery cartoon, and complimented her on getting her character's diagnosis so wonderfully right. She listened to me, stopped writing, listened some more, would write some more. I'd hate to think I somehow overwhelmed her - I am often told I don't "play my cards" despite my being afraid I'm overplaying them - but she was sincere and gentle, her voice this almost ASMR tone. We took a selfie (THAT photo looks awful, I need to learn to not only pose in photos but not to cock my head away from the other person) and later a photo op (Which looks better! But like the one with Hayley, I look rigid compared to her practiced grace) where she invited me into her hooked arm with a "Hey you, wow, sharp dresser!" and straightened the front of my shirt with a pinch.

And finally! Mystery solved?

This is an update for @justrachaelleighcook - this photo was taken at Cannes! She'd not seen Anna in some time and the press (or whoever was behind the camera) asked for a photo together! "I've never seen this photo but I remember taking it because Bookies was running out of competition". So that dates this photo as 2002? (She'd also not heard Anna had been unwell of late and regarded what little I said with a bit of a furrowed brow.)

Needless to say I wish I had more time to talk to her but I'm forever aware theres a line of people behind me hoping for some time as well.

It was an exhausting two days at NYCC. I probably spent 15 hours there and of that, more than 13 hours was standing in lines. Overall, it was one of the - if not THE - smoothest and more effortless visits to a convention I've ever had. If any of them come back around, I'd love to meet them again. <3

9 notes · View notes

avareiahgt · 4 months ago

Text

My littles!! I've been trying to scratch some seconds per day to write a bit. I got this but zero time to edit it so I hope it won't be so bad.

I'll be back soon!

GT JULY PROMPTS 2024

DAY 6: GRIT

-A little help here would be appreciated- Yaiza's voice filled my ears snapping me out from my reading.

-I guess your parents punished you all alone because you deserved it. You're lucky they've let me be your companion while they're out- I said. She'd pulled a prank to an older guy in school that had been chasing one of her friends to be her girlfriend even when the girl had already declined twice. Guy's head and half body would be wearing blue paint for some days since it wasn't the kind that could be washed off easily.

Of course, principal Ivy caught her and gave her parents a call. So here we were, her parents took her to the old plot of land they owned near the limits of Older's side of the city and ordered her to clean all the mess nature had made for some months unattended.

To be honest, it was barbaric work to be done for just one teenager, but she endured it. She had been working for some hours and just cleaned an eighth part of the dust, branches, rocks and wild herbs.

-You know, you would spend like ten minutes doing it with me- she tried.

-Correction, doing it for you- i said while going back to my half read book. I could spend a few more hours reading out on nature. Also, seeing her hardworking was a little reward for all the trouble that she always put on me covering her mistakes, forgetfulness and failed pranks...

-We will make a deal, Connor- she started. That was dangerous, she always knew how to attach my attention.

-Please, don't - I already knew I was going to say 'yes'.

-You grow Newman height, clean this mess with two sweeps of those big hands and I spend my weekly pay on buying you all the books you want.

While my brain was jumping of joy, my face was fighting trying not to show her I already fell on her trap.

-I guess I could stretch myself a bit...

I sat up from the wooden bench and stepped closer to her. I waved my hand at her and she looked at me with confusion.

-Please, step back, I don't wanna overwhelm you- she nodded, smiling- . And, please, stop staring at me like that. I feel awfully weird.

-Sorry, it's just so unrealistic.

I got it, still I felt embarrassed when someone stared at me without a wink. Far worse when they became so tiny in front of my eyes. Well, not that they shrunk or something, more like the opposite. But that was my sensation.

Her eyes played the trick of looking to the grounds, darting between me and the sky for some seconds.

I steaded my breath and waste just one second on chaging sizes. It was almost instantly. It always was. When I looked down again, my hips surpassed the trees, the enormous parcel now half occupied by feet felt so ridiculously small.

And there my sight caught a glimpse of Yaiza's form, so far away from me, so tiny and fragile and weak. And yet, so important and strong and present.

My fears started to get the best of my calm behaviour when I started to feel too much big and clumsy.

I couldn't sit down without crushing all the natural remains that had to be cleaned out from the property, so I lowered my self on a knee looking directly to her.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

I was aware that would happen. So i decided to speak first.

-Let's do it fast, where do you want the wood and rocks?- I slowly gestured to the amount of fall trees and wooden rests.

-Ugh... - her voice was... so soft, not the usual loud anymore- I guess you could just break it into smaller pieces and put them out of the field?

-Please stay away, I could hurt you if some piece slips and falls...- working around people the size of your index finger was always so stressful.

-Don't worry about me, brainy, I'll stay fine by myself- she said, but backpedaled anyways.

Without taking an eye from her, I hold a bunch of wastes with a hand and carefully strengthen my grip on it. Crunchy sounds gave me a shiver before I threw it to the forest on my side, hoping no one was near to hear the sound of that falling.

Yaiza's face fell from amazement, since I was getting done in a second a task that would take her several hours.

-You're telling you could get this done in a minute and instead kept watching me struggling with it for hours?!

I tried to hold back a smile, but it turned out I couldn't.

-It was your punishment, not mine- and if their parents'd know I was a sizeshifter, there'd have been no way to convince them to accompany Yaiza on her task.

-I'm gonna kick your big ass once you get down here.

I dropped on the side another pile of thrash just in time to see her walking towards me to check the new empty space.

-Don't get too near...-I advised her, but she kept going.

-Yaiza, please, don't- a teasing smirk appeared on her face as I pleaded for her safety.

The last fistful of waste got almost pulverized when her proximity got me on my nerves. I tightened my grip so hard some dust and grit covered her from head to toe.

She looked at me with wide eyes and then covered herself with both arms. I shook my hand away, carelessly throwing the rest farther away than I meant to, just trying to protect her from the falling debris.

Yaiza coughed and took her hands to her face, trying to clean up at least her eyes.

-Are you ok?! Why won't you ever listen to me?- my hands flew to surround her. They stopped dead when I accounted the speed and size of them in comparison to Yaiza. Then, just left them like a barrier, never touching her body.

She didn't tremble or doubt me when she found herself surrounded by my humongous hands. Holy... they dwarfed her even when she was usually taller than me. Not that she cared.

-Stop being worried, it was just some dust.

-It could have been a branch or a rock and it would collapse right over you!

-Connor, stop screaming, they're going to listen to you back at the city.

She eyed my hands while I shut up.

-Your hands are a mess- she inched towards my left hand and got some little pieces of rocks and wood, dropping them onto the ground.

-It's just dirtiness. We'll be done here in a second, but I would be so much happier if you were at safety distance.

-Don't you think we've worked here enough? I guess it would take me days to get the job you've done for me. I could use some rest.

My privilege to have a panoramic view of the land told me she was right, around 2/3 of the parcel was already free of garbage. It would cover Yaiza's work worth for more than a week.

-I could use some books- I smiled.

#gt community #gt writing #sizetumblr #size difference #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #gt prompts #gtjuly2024 #State of Nephilim #OC: Connor #OC: Yaiza Martinelli

8 notes · View notes

speech-love-and-caffeine · 1 year ago

Text

About me - UPDATED!

So a little about me, or as much as I feel comfy giving out on Tumblr.

I'm a speech-language pathologist, newly minted as of Spring 2024 (finished CFY). I had been chronicling little bits of my grad school journey on my main blog in-between random silly stuff and Star Trek geekery.

I graduated in May of 2023 from my alma mater (went there for both bachelor's and master's). However, this was after being rejected by them and the other school I applied to my first cycle. I regrouped, rebuilt myself, reapplied, and got in off a waiting list. (I say this to give all my young future grad school applicants hope.)

I worked in pediatric private practice, what I thought was my dream setting, for CFY and for several months after. My clinic downsized and was generally not a good fit for me, so I went back to work in pediatric home health, which isn't bad but is challenging in maintaining cash flow. However, it fits my brain better and I prefer my team in my current company. Someday, I hope to be an SLP supervisor.

I am medically diagnosed AuDHD as of this year, after having long suspected I was (since at least my late teens if not earlier). I am a level 1 Autistic and am currently trying to get on medication to manage my ADHD. If I find solutions for the problem that is Documentation Hell, I will happily share strategies for my fellow neurodiverse speechies.

I am a non-traditional grad; I began undergrad later than most and was the second oldest student in my cohort.

I'm extremely geeky and goofy

I identify as a demigirl, which is a non-binary gender identity. I'm not publicly out as I live in an area that is not always the kindest to LGBTQIA, but I find it wise to let y'all know this here. I am barely learning about what it means to embrace who I am.

I'm of Mexican descent and extremely passionate about bilingual advocacy.

My favorite areas of the field are AAC, autism and ADHD, pediatric feeding, and early intervention. Ask me about these and I'll talk your ear off.

I started this sideblog as I began to run into more and more aspiring SLPs on Tumblr, many of them looking at grad school, many neurodiverse. I wanted to share my experiences as like a practical guide to help others.

#intro #about me #speech-language pathologist #speech-language pathology #Sunny the SLP

4 notes · View notes

nanakyun0j0 · 4 years ago

Text

Cinema Rose

Hello! This is Nana here with my secret santa gift for @softsungchan! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and this is not proof read ;-; but I really hope you enjoy this. Have a super merry Christmas and a happy new year! I’d also like to wish @lucaswithnoshirt and @bumblebeenct a really wonderful Christmas and say thank you for organising this awesome event :D.

Genres: Fluff, comedy (I really tried)

Word count: 2024

Warnings: A few swear words, mentions of a heart attack, and old cinemas? (I am not very good at these, if you find anything else I should add,

lease let me know and I’ll put them in ^^).

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Remixes of old christmas songs blasted from the speakers around him, and Taeil sang along quietly while he made his way to the old cinema at the end of the shopping district.

It hadn’t been long since school had ended and he’d been too bored to stay at home and too tired from the school year to make plans with others.

So, he decided to walk around the places he always went to, but never paid any attention to. Like the shopping district he walked through on his way to school.

He’d heard from Taeyong, a junior he knew from middle school, about an old cinema that played christmas movies during the holidays for free. Taeil was skeptical at first. Playing movies for the whole month of December for free?

After some reconnaissance (read: asking his parents), he’d found that the place was apparently so old that the carpets smelled like caramel popcorn and old socks, and the lights flickered if you stayed after 7pm. They were surprised that it was even still open because of how decrepit the outside looks.

So, his initial impression of the old cinema hadn’t been the best, and he’d shrugged away any thoughts of visiting it.

Until today, that is.

His parents were out on a gift buying spree for their relatives, and his younger sister had been dragged along, which she wasn’t happy about, judging by her fierce grumbling as she slammed the car door shut when they were leaving.

So that meant that he had escaped the drudgery that was Christmas shopping, but he’d also been left at home alone with effectively nothing to do.

He’d finished playing all his games during the school year, instead of studying of course. There was also no way he’d actually be responsible and look over material for next year so he could get ahead of his classes. Which left him with only a few options:

He could go back to sleep, or restart some random game and play it all over again, or he could just wander around outside and find something to do.

‘Right.’ He thought to himself as he grabbed a jacket, his phone and house keys,

‘Guess I’ll just walk around.’

—————————————————————-

He’d walked around most of his neighbourhood, and without realising it, his feet lead him on the familiar path of the local shopping district. It was usually a bustling place, full of loud voices calling out to customers, and children playing around.

Today was no different and Taeil, who’d spent his whole holidays so far inside, found the change of pace refreshing. Despite the chilly weather and the fact that he really wasn’t wearing nearly enough layers for how cold he felt, he was enjoying the vibrant atmosphere of the street.

Shutting his mind off, he was content to explore the streets around him.

——————————————————————————————————

You stood slouched at the counter, face blank and head rested in your hands. You drummed your fingers against your cheeks and let out a long sigh.

Burying your head into your hands and groaning softly, you wondered to yourself why you got yourself into this in the first place.

When your uncle had asked you to work at the old cinema for the holidays, you’d initially been okay with it.

After all, it was quick money and, knowing how bad the sales were, you wouldn’t need to interact with people that much.

You valued your space after all, and serving customers was never really something you felt happy doing. Plus, it was fun to have the place to yourself for most of the day, and you were never low on snacks to eat.

In hindsight, you should have predicted the boredom that would come with standing around for the whole day. Even with your phone, there were only so many times you could refresh Twitter and Instagram and find something interesting to look at.

Day in and day out, you were stuck in the dark cinema with flickering lights and musty carpets, and it was slowly driving you insane.

You bit your lip and creased your eyebrows, mulling over if it would be that big of a deal to just leave the counter and go home. It was nearly closing time anyway, and you couldn’t imagine what poor fool would come to this dusty cinema when it was almost Christmas.

‘Everyone’s busy with decorating and gift buying, no one’s even gonna come here.’

You told yourself.

With your conscience cleared and stomach empty, you gathered as much popcorn as you could fit in the largest container, locked the counter and headed outside.

——————————————————————————————————

Taeil stared at the sign in front of him.

‘Cinema Rose’s Merry Christmas special event! For the whole month of December, watch a movie for free!’

It read.

He wondered how he managed to end up here, of all places. Especially after he’d promised himself so many times that he wouldn’t bother. Then he wondered if he even remembered the way he came.

‘Shit,’ he thought to himself

‘How am I gonna get home?’

He took a deep breath and looked around frantically, trying to find a familiar looking path. All of the streets looked new to him.

Finding nothing he recognised, he was about to pull out his phone when he heard the entrance to the cinema open.

His head whipped to face the doors and he saw a girl around his age in a baggy uniform carrying an obscene amount of popcorn in her hands. Her back was facing him and she looked like she was trying to lock the door.

‘She must work here! Nice, I can ask her for directions!’

So he mustered up his courage and cleared his throat and called out to the girl.

“E-excuse me, I’m a bit lost, could you please help me?” He cursed himself for his shaking voice.

The girl turned around and stared at him for bit with a confused expression, then blinked and replied,

“O-oh, yeah, sure! Where did you want directions to?” Her soft voice was gentle when she spoke to him, and Taeil was a bit flustered. She wasn’t only pretty, but had a cute voice too?

The same could be said for you.

You hadn’t noticed him standing in front of the cinema at first, so you were a bit startled when he suddenly spoke to you.

You turned to see who it was, and nearly had a heart attack. A boy around your age you’d assume, with a large puffy jacket and kind looking eyes. He’d appeared so suddenly that you were surprised.

He was so pretty you were shocked stiff for a few seconds, but you snapped yourself out of it and hurried to reply.

You cursed yourself for stuttering and hoped he didn’t notice. His blank face at your reply made it seem like he didn’t. You thanked the heavens above and waited for him to continue speaking.

“R-right.” He cleared his throat and you stifled a snort. You both seemed to be nervous around each other.

“Do you know the shopping district near the local all-boys school? My neighbourhood is around there so I just wanted to know how I could get to that area?” He explained.

You nodded at his words.

Despite being a homebody, you did like to go on walks quite regularly, and you lived close to the cinema so you knew the area like the back of your hand. You were about to tell him the way when your brain stopped you.

‘Wait, _____,’ It said to you.

‘If you just give him directions, who knows when you’ll see him again! If you’ll see him again! Don’t lose this opportunity, you’re already lonely enough as it is!’

Your brain made a compelling last minute argument, and you couldn’t help but agree. Your family had been here for a long time, but you had grown up in a different city for most of your life.

You’d only come here to spend the holidays with your aunt and uncle because your parents were away on business. You hadn’t managed to make any friends, so all you could do was stay at home or walk around the cinema or your house.

You at least wanted to try to make friends before you left, then it wouldn’t be so hard to be in this town while you stayed until school started again.

Taeil was staring at you with a worried expression while you were going through your little crisis, and he tried calling out to you to get your attention. It didn’t work, so he stepped closer to you and waved a hand in front of your face, causing you to flinch and shout out in surprise.

“Woah! What the heck?”

“Sorry-“ Taeil said with wide eyes and a small frown on his face,

“I called out to you but you wouldn’t respond so I- sorry…” His voice was quiet and apologetic and you felt bad.

“No! No, not at all, it’s my fault! I just got distracted because I was trying to remember the way, sorry about that.” You told him. He seemed to believe your poorly thought out lie with the way his eyes brightened in understanding and his head nodded along.

You inwardly wiped the sweat off your forehead and tried to make the most friendly expression you could muster after a whole day of standing around with nothing to do.

“I’m not very good with explaining, so would it be ok if I just showed you the way? My house is nearby too, so it wouldn’t be out of my way.” You said to him cheerily. You hoped he’d buy this lie too.

He smiled widely at you, and you almost felt a bit bad about imposing your presence on this boy you’d just met.

‘But this is all for friendship! Maybe more, but don’t get so ahead of yourself!’

“That would be great, thanks! If you’re sure it won’t be a bother!” He chirped. You nearly melted inside at how polite he was being with you.

Returning his smile and asking him to follow you, you lead the way out of the cinema and made your way to the shopping district, trying your hardest to think of something to talk about. Which wasn’t as hard as you thought.

For every question you could ask, Taeil had an answer. You quickly learned that he was really easy to get along with, and he was great at carrying conversations. He was awkward at first, but you soon found a rhythm while talking and before you knew it you made your way to the shopping district near his house. Your footsteps slowed and you both halted at the entrance, a lull now forming when you both stopped talking.

You stayed silent, not knowing what to say, stuck in your head with worries that he might not want to talk anymore after this. That he only continued conversations with you because he was bored.

Taeil’s voice broke through your thoughts. His voice soft and nervous again as he asked you for your number.

Your face heated up at his straightforward request bit complied, albeit with shaky hands. After you both put your phones away, Taeil spoke again.

“Hey, ____. I had lots of fun with you today. So uh-“ He fumbled with the strings of his hood,

“Do you wanna meet tomorrow as well? I get that you have work, but I could go to the cinema and we could hang out there? O-only if you want to!”

His eyes looked anywhere but you and you could see in his smile that he was worried about you refusing.

You grinned and shook your head.

“I’d love to see you tomorrow, Taeil. I really had fun today too!”

You spoke in the most sincere tone you could and hoped he could sense it. With the way he beamed at you after you replied, you were sure he understood you.

With that you both parted ways, and walked home with smiles on your faces, and chests so warm no amount of snow could make you feel cold.

#taeil x reader #taeil #moon taeil #nct taeil #taeil fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct #im really tired #i will go sleep now #good night lol #Merry Christmas!!

20 notes · View notes

btsybrkr · 5 years ago

Text

2020 Vision: What To Expect From The Next Decade (By Someone Who Has No Idea, Obviously.)

Happy New Year, all!! I had planned to do a little run-down last week of everything that happened in the 2010s, but instead succumbed to the existential struggle that comes with the week that follows Christmas Day, in which your time becomes largely swallowed up by asking yourself ‘what day is it?’ and ‘at what point am I supposed to stop living on a diet of alcohol and Quality Street?’. It’s festive purgatory, and you’re literally powerless to do anything other than sleep, eat, and moan that the shops are still playing Christmas music. That’s my excuse, anyway.

So, instead, I thought we’d say a collective “cinnabit, lad” to 2019 and a collective “what is UP, dude?” to the Roaring 20s 2.0, the only sequel that humanity has waited a whole 100 years for. Apart from Avatar 2, which I imagine will come out at some point in the 3020s. What do we know so far about what the 2020s have in store for us? Obviously, not a lot, but as someone who successfully predicted the outcome of the last election, and the UK’s last four Eurovision losses - two things which I’m sure absolutely nobody ever saw coming - I thought I’d give out my own valuable speculation. Here’s what the 2020s might look like, according to me.

Politics

Let’s get it out of the way - we’re in a terrible state. At this point, every important issue is so divisive, that the nation is divided over everything, including whether we’re actually divided or not. Do I think we’ll become any less divided in the coming years, in a United Kingdom where the conversation is so often dominated by things we can absolutely never seem to agree on? Yes. We will have no choice. Why?

All-out war.

Yes, I said it. In 2021, there will be all-out war. With America, probably. I don’t know why. Maybe Trump will get into an argument with Boris Johnson over who can manage to effortlessly look the most like a Viz caricature of themselves - they both already do somehow, I’m just saying they might disagree on which one of them is the best at it. Could be that, or possibly a more serious cause, to do with nuclear weapons or something, but I’d rather not think about that, because it’s not as funny as the Viz thing. And it’s more likely. So, we’ll pretend for now that we’re on the verge of the first pantomime, slapstick war the world has ever seen.

Anyway, while Trump and Johnson are beefing up a storm - picture Punch and Judy, except the puppets are in suits and have thinning, bright yellow hair - previously all-encompassing issues like Brexit will fall by the wayside, until Boris Johnson eventually decides to hand his notice in to focus on more important things, like beating Trump with a wooden spoon and chasing after the dog that stole all his sausages. After this, we’ll all come together to realise that if actual elected officials can’t do the job, then maybe we, the people, deserve our chance to test our political metal. Obviously, we can’t let just anybody have a go, but at the end of the year, Cosmopolitan magazine puts the traditional democratic process at number one on its ‘Leave It In 2021’ list, so we have absolutely no choice but to come up with something else, which brings me to...

Television And Film

2022 will start with a bang, with the debut of Simon Cowell’s new talent show format, So You Think You Can Be The Prime Minister?, hosted of course by Ant and Dec, with the aftershow on ITV2 being hosted by Jeremy Paxman. Contestants will line up in huge crowds to give judges Russell Brand, Susanna Reid, and, of course, Jesus S. Cowell himself (forgot to mention, Simon Cowell has been elected as the new Christ in this completely non-hypothetical universe, alright?) their opinions on hot political topics such as Brexit, the NHS, and, of course, whether a Jaffa Cake can really be classed as a biscuit or not. Each episode, contestants will take part in a live debate, themed around a different issue with every passing week. The two least popular contestants after the weekly phone vote will go head-to-head giving their own rendition of Running The World by Jarvis Cocker, with the worst performer being eliminated. I know a sing-off isn’t exactly relevant in a politics programme, but it’s Saturday night primetime so it’s still got to be at least somewhat entertaining, yeah?

Love Island will be back, of course - and not just with a Summer and Winter edition, but with an additional Spring and Autumn one for the 2024 schedule! This will be a win-win situation for the series producers, and for its viewers, as by 2027, ITV will run out of attractive under-35s to appear on the show, and members of the public will begin getting called up to appear - like with jury duty, except that ITV pay for you to have extensive cosmetic surgery first, so that you’re aesthetically pleasing enough for people to want to tune in, and so that you can maintain a successful career selling Bootea on Instagram afterwards.

Films will also go through a renaissance in the 2020s, as the Hollywood big boys come to a conclusion that everything has just become a little too… blockbuster. To remedy this, they make the joint decision that, 100 years on, we should take ourselves back to the silent film era, which will surely create hundreds of jobs for mute people, therefore solving Hollywood’s problems with a lack of diversity in film. It’ll also give well-known TikTok creators a chance to make the leap into mainstream entertainment, as they’ll have spent so long lip-synching over the years that they’ll now be more qualified to star in these new golden age pictures than actual trained actors. Obviously, that sounds absolutely beyond comprehension, but look at Count Orlok in 1922’s Nosferatu. See his slender limbs, blank stare, gothic dress sense - in a way, he’s the original e-boy, and there’s plenty of them out there on TikTok now that could play the titular vampire just as well in a 100th anniversary remake, just with less neck-biting and more lip-biting. Trust me, it’ll be a hit.

Technology

Throughout the 2010s, there’s been a lot of talk about everyone spending too much time on their bloody phones, so, in 2024, Apple will try to combat this issue when they unveil perhaps their most innovative product to date - the iPhone XZ+, a phone which exists solely in the mind of its users. Not in a Black Mirror, chip-inside-your-brain sort of way, either. It is literally imaginary. It’s a phone that, instead of being a phone, is actually just the concept of a phone. Yes, for the small cost of £1,500 and six units of your own soul, you, too, can block the rest of the world out. How amazing is that? No more wasting hours of your day keeping in touch with friends and family. No more accessing a wealth of information, wherever you are, with a quick Google. No more blocking out the sound of cackling pre-teens on the bus by putting in your earphones and listening to music. These things are bad and must be stopped, before we become an entire species of communicating, bopping, learning zombies.

I think those must be bad things anyway, since you can rarely go a few seconds scrolling through social media without stumbling across a ‘woke’ meme about how the use of smartphones is destroying us, one notification at a time - memes which I’m absolutely sure were created and posted from a book or a potato or something. Otherwise they’d just be hypocritical, wouldn’t they?

Anyway, the iPhone XZ+. It’s the only thing you need inside your head this decade. Apart from a very real ever-growing sense of fear and doom, which you can get for free.

Sport

The next decade will see the Olympics and Paralympics take place in 2020, 2024 and 2028, as well as the Winter equivalents to both in 2022 and 2026. You’d think we’d be all Olympic-ed out with that, but in the absence of anything else that gets people feeling remotely patriotic in a purely nice way, the world will decide to come together to throw scaled-down, low-budget Olympic games in all the off-years this decade.

Summer 2021 will see the start of the first ever Not-The-Actual-Olympics. Marked by a glamourous opening ceremony in a field in Loughborough, the opening will feature a series of performances from stars such as H from Steps, and will be attended by some people who aren’t the royal family, but really do look like them. Taking place over the 10-week long games will be thumb wars, arm wrestling, staring contests, and an exciting event in which competitors try to eat the most HobNobs they possibly can without the help of a glass of water to combat the extreme dry-mouth they end up with. It might sound underwhelming now, but if there turns out to be any truth in the other predictions I’ve made here, it might be just what you need to restore your faith in the everyday.

Happy New Year, Everyone

In all seriousness - not that the rest of this isn’t serious, because it is, and is definitely all going to happen - whatever the coming years bring, it’s important to remember that we have to take the good with the bad, to look after ourselves and each other, and to enjoy each day as much as we possibly can, even during the bits of life that leave us feeling a little less Gangnam Style than we did way back in 2012. Thanks, everyone, for reading my blog. I’ll be back again in a week or so to talk absolute arse about something else. Until then, I hope you all had a great 2019, and have an even better start to 2020. Cheers!

2 notes · View notes

amtushinfosolutionspage · 7 years ago

Text

DGB Grab Bag: Kessel’s Hot Dog Hockey Card, Shootouts, and a Puck to the Dome

Three stars of comedy

The third star: Joe Thornton and Brent Burns – When they’re not challenging WWE tag teams, they’re mastering the weirdly specific sub-genre of commercials that involved them just randomly yelling at people.

The second star: Jonathan Ericsson – Just be a nice guy and toss a puck to a fan, what’s the worst that could happen?

(Via r/hockey.)

The first star: Phil Kessel’s hockey card – It was tempting to give this week’s obligatory Phil Kessel spot to this or maybe this, but instead we’ll go with his new hockey card featuring his day with the Cup. Yes, that one:

At some point, we’re going to have to disqualify Kessel from future appearances in the three stars. That moment is currently scheduled for one day after I write my last column. Besides, he had to be first star because everyone in his family is winning stuff this week. Hey, speaking of which…

Debating the Issues

This week’s debate: Wednesday’s women’s gold medal game between Team Canada and Team USA was an all-time classic. But should Olympic gold medal games end with shootouts?

In favor: No, of course not.

Opposed: No, of course not.

The final verdict: No, of course not.

The NHL Actually Got Something Right

The NHL does not award the Stanley Cup based on the results of a shootout.

Trivial Annoyance of the Week

The women’s gold medal game ended in a freaking shootout.

OK, I think the point has been made. But we all agree on this, right?

Actually, it seems like we do. In the moments before and after Wednesday’s shootout, the reaction was pretty close to unanimous. Just about everyone was dreading the way that game ended. American media. Canadian media. Analytics guys. Legendary American players. Canadian Olympians from entirely different sports. Me. You, assuming you’re a decent person.

So why did the game have to end in a shootout?

That’s not a rhetorical question; I’d really love to know why you’d ever use a shootout in a gold medal game. In the round robin or earlier playoff rounds, sure—maybe you don’t want one team to get trapped in a six-period marathon that hurts them for the rest of the tournament. But the gold medal game? Why?

It’s not about keeping the rules consistent, since they already make overtime longer in the final game. It’s not about needing the ice for the next game, since there isn’t one. It’s not about fatigue, you’d think, since it’s the last game. Or is it? That’s the only option that makes sense. But not much.

Sure, players are going to get tired in long games. We saw that on Wednesday, when Team Canada looked absolutely gassed as overtime went on. But that’s hockey. Conditioning is part of the sport. So is bench management. The shootout probably didn’t change the result of the game, since a Team USA win was looking inevitable the longer it went.

But that’s the problem—they deserved that win, a real win, not a gimmicked one that gives Canadians an out. Wednesday’s shootout was just about as good as a shootout can possibly be, with some dramatic stops and truly great goals. Jocelyne Lamoureux’s winner will become an iconic goal in international hockey history. But it was still a shootout. Shootouts suck. Sometimes they’re a necessary evil, maybe. But gold medal games are never one of those times.

The Canadian men will play for gold this weekend, and while there’s no chance they can match the drama and intensity of the women’s final, here’s hoping they at least get to settle the biggest hockey game of their lives by playing hockey.

And if at some point in the future, somebody tries to invoke Wednesday’s classic as a reason to consider using the shootout in the NHL playoffs, load them into a bobsled and slide them into a lake.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

It’s been an interesting week for Montreal Canadiens fans. Their current captain, Max Pacioretty, is expected to be traded before Monday’s deadline. And the guy who held the job before him, Brian Gionta, was the captain of Team USA at the Winter Olympics.

Not many players can say they’ve worn the “C” for the Canadiens; it’s a list that includes legends like Rocket Richard, Doug Harvey, Jean Beliveau and Newsy Lalonde. In recent times, the honor hasn’t been quite as prestigious, with names like Mike Keane, Vincent Damphousse and Pierre Turgeon taking their turns. But the Canadiens are so enamored with their own history that just holding the job confers a certain type of fame on a player. You wouldn’t think it would be possible for there to be any obscure former Habs captains.

But then you’d be forgetting this week’s player: Walter Buswell.

Buswell was a solid defensive defenseman who started his NHL career with the Red Wings in 1932. He spent three seasons in Detroit, racking up 13 points in 140 games, before being traded to the Bruins as part of a deal for future Hall-of-Famer Marty Barry. Boston flipped him to the Canadiens two days later for Roger Jenkins, and Buswell spent the next five seasons in Montreal.

Those seasons weren’t very good. The Habs missed the playoffs for the first time in a decade in Buswell’s first year, then lost in the opening round in each of the next three. It was a tumultuous time, with Montreal burning through five coaches and three GMs. By the 1939-40 season, Buswell was one of the oldest players left on the team, and was given the captaincy after Babe Siebert retired to become the team’s latest coach.

It ended up being a forgettable year; Siebert never coached a game because he drowned in Lake Huroan during the offseason, the team had a stretch where they won one game out of 20, and the Canadiens finished dead last, a feat they haven’t repeated in the almost eight decades since. It was also Buswell’s last as captain, and as an NHL player. Toe Blake took over the honor and held it for most of the next decade, while Buswell headed to the QPHL and was out of hockey entirely by 1941.

Be It Resolved

The trade deadline is now just three days away, and while the market is picking up, it’s still been fairly slow. That’s a bit of a surprise, given that there are a decent number of sellers this year. And you’d think there would be more draft picks in play, since this year’s crop is considered to be a relatively weak one. But so far, GMs don’t seem to want to move their 2018 picks.

But maybe there’s a way around that. And the key may be hidden in this week’s least interesting deal: The one that sent Eric Fehr from the Maple Leafs to the Sharks for a seventh-round pick.

Most Leafs fans’ reaction to the trade was something along the lines of “Wait, we still have Eric Fehr?” And they only kind of did—he’d been loaned to Anaheim’s AHL team, so he wasn’t even playing for the organization. But the Leafs wanted to free up a roster spot and a bit of cap space. The Sharks needed some fourth-line veteran depth, so they coughed up a late pick.

And it really was a late pick, because the Leafs don’t get the choice until 2020.

It’s relatively rare in the NHL these days to see a draft pick traded more than two years in advance. But maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe that’s the way to loosen up the market a little bit. If NHL GMs are going to be tightwads with their next bushel of draft picks, then let’s start trading ones for future drafts.

Like, way in the future. Forget 2020. Who wants a 2024 first rounder?

There’s actually plenty of precedent for hockey trades involving far-off future picks. It happens in junior hockey all the time. Check out this year’s biggest CHL deadline trades; they’re full of future picks. Here’s a team trading nine draft picks that stretch all the way to 2023. Here’s a team giving up three picks, none earlier than 2021. Here’s a team trading their second-round pick in 2026. That’s eight years in the future. That’s so long that the Sabres might even be good by then.

How much fun would it be to see NHL teams trading picks from 2026? Do you know how to properly value a draft pick that far down the line? I don’t! I bet NHL GMs don’t either, which would lead to all sorts of unpredictable results when they sat down to work deals. Plus imagine tracking the ups and downs of a rival team, knowing your team owned their first rounder a half-decade from now. It would be great.

Granted, junior hockey isn’t the NHL. Draft picks aren’t as valuable, and teams go through cyclical and relatively predictable stages of contending that make trading away future picks a little easier. But it’s not like an NHL GM has never thought of acquiring future picks. In fact, it was pretty much the trademark of the best GM ever, Montreal Canadiens’ legend Sam Pollock. He built a dynasty out of ripping off dumb teams, stockpiling their future picks and then turning them into guys like Guy Lafleur and Larry Robinson.

If Pollock could do it, couldn’t the GM of your favorite team? Well, no, because they’re not as smart as Sam Pollock. But you think they’d be willing to try. And even a dumbed-down version of the Pollock strategy could probably break a few logjams.

So be it resolved, let’s stretch out the event horizon for NHL trades. You can’t give up your precious third-round pick this year? Fine, give us your second from 2021. You probably won’t even be the GM by then, so let’s get this done and hit the bar.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

With the trade deadline looming, GMs all across the league are sitting in conference rooms with their front office staff, plotting out the moves that will impact their teams for years to come.

But what do those highly private conversations sound like? As it turns out, we have at least some idea, thanks to one team that figured it would be a good idea to film a crucial decision and put it on the internet. Spoiler alert: It would not be the only bad decision they made that week.

It’s June 29, 2013, with the draft and free agency just days away. These fine folks you see here are the assembled brain trust of the Boston Bruins, who’ve just finished up their second Stanley Cup final appearance in three years. Everything is going well. Let’s see if we can pinpoint the moment that changes.

The star of our clip is, of course, then Bruins GM Peter Chiarelli. He also looks really miserable throughout this entire clip, which makes me wonder what he must look like today with the Oilers. Has anyone seen him lately? Are we completely sure he hasn’t gone goth on us?

Things start off with what seems like a reasonably straightforward problem: The team wants to re-sign Nathan Horton, but as Chiarelli puts it, “we’re having difficulty.” That was true; Horton was basically stringing the Bruins along, waiting out the clock to get to free agency. We eventually found out he wasn’t happy with the Bruins waiting to negotiate, but at the time, the whole thing was a bit of a mystery.

Still, it’s Nathan Horton. Good player, but he’s not going to make or break your team. No need to panic, right?

Yeah, not so much. As Chiarelli explains, signing either Horton or a reasonable replacement will mean they’ll have to move a player, and the guy he’s focused on is Tyler Seguin. At this time, Seguin is 21 years old, three years removed from being the second overall pick, and has already led the Bruins in scoring. But he’s coming off a disappointing playoff run, and now he might be on the block. Chiarelli opens the floor to feedback.

First up is Keith Gretzky, making his second ever YouTube section appearance. He apparently isn’t much a Seguin fan, accusing him of not wanting to pay the price. He’s followed by director of player personnel Scott Bradley, who suggests Seguin isn’t physical enough and relies on his skill.

“Sound familiar?” Chiarelli asks, in a pretty transparent reference to Phil Kessel. “Yeah, it does,” Bradley replies, and then there’s a weird jump cut where something is clearly edited out. I’m assuming it was somebody else going “It sounds like Keith’s older brother, somebody remind me if he turned out to be any good?” and then being dragged out of the room and thrown down an elevator shaft.

We see a shot of Chiarelli talking to Don Sweeney, which ends up being a bit of ironic foreshadowing given how this all plays out. Meanwhile, we get a voiceover by Denis Leary, which is weird, because I don’t even remember Bill Hicks doing this bit.

Chiarelli calls “Paul,” which is Horton’s agent Paul Krepelka. We only hear one side of the conversation, but we can tell from Chiarelli’s reaction that he’s not hearing good news. “Done,” he tells the group. We then cut to a shot of Jim Benning making the exact same face that every Canucks fan made last week when they found out about Jim Benning’s extension.

We skip ahead a day, and now Chiarelli wants everyone to weigh in one a potential Seguin trade. Bradley’s up first, and this time he’s done being subtle; he just buries Seguin. So does Bruins legend and team president Cam Neely. If there’s a dissenting voice in the room, we don’t get to hear it—these guys clearly don’t like Seguin, and they want him gone.

I mean, can we just take a moment to appreciate how insane it is that this was all filmed and released? As a fan I love behind-the-scenes stuff and as media I want as much information as possible, but it’s crazy that the Bruins would let this see the light of day in a league that obsesses over bulletin board material. The only saving grace is that surely everyone involved learned their lesson and never let themselves be filmed talking trade ever again.

All that said, now I kind of want to know what the Kessel trade conversation was like in 2009. I’m guessing it was just Chiarelli taking off his jacket Ric Flair-style and elbow-dropping a photo of Kessel over and over.

Chiarelli goes to work the phone, talking to an unnamed GM about first round picks and prospects. That’s where our clip ends, although you can watch the rest of the episode here. That clip doesn’t give us any additional insight into the eventual trade, which saw the Bruins send Seguin to Dallas as part of a seven-player deal for Loui Eriksson and prospects. We just skip ahead to Eriksson meeting Cam Neely, touring the rink, and waving a watch in front of Benning while repeating “You will sign me to a terrible free agency contract in three years.”

The epilogue: Seguin immediately blossomed into a point-a-game star, and is the sixth-leading scorer in the league since the trade went down. Eriksson, who’s never been anyone’s idea of a physical player, lasted three years in Boston. All in all, not good.

So what happened to the brain trust in the meritocracy-based NHL? Well, three (Chiarelli, Benning and Sweeney) are currently running teams, and two more (Gretzky and Bradley) have since been promoted to assistant GM. But at least they all learned a valuable lesson about the dangers of trading a top pick from the 2010 draft.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you’d like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected].

DGB Grab Bag: Kessel’s Hot Dog Hockey Card, Shootouts, and a Puck to the Dome syndicated from https://australiahoverboards.wordpress.com

0 notes