#i went into this offseason with a whole bunch of options of hockey teams to watch while i wait for the blue jays to come back.

[firstpitchswinging]

i have reached the point in my casual (becoming less and less so by the day) interest in the leafs that i am watching old games on youtube

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: 2019 NHL Draft

Rasmus Dahlin is a hard act to follow. I think part of the reason Alex Nylander went through such Sabres popular opinion hell was because he was the first round pick the year after Jack Eichel’s Draft. Maybe that’s me projecting because my little Sabres heart hadn’t been broken for a while at that point. I really only jumped on the Sabres wagon at the beginning of the decade so my biggest lived disappointment in this team was the 2011 First Round against the Flyers. Picking Alex Nylander was a curve ball that year and he didn’t pan out immediately. That failing to hit on high draft picks was part of then-General Manager Tim Murray’s undoing and part of what ruined rebuild 1.0. That’s not to mention how bad GMTM was for Nylander’s development thrusting him right into the AHL. You couldn’t put all that on Nylander. I hoped so hard going into this Draft that whoever gets drafted the year after Dahlin isn’t under that kind of microscope right away. Nylander had a tiny little renaissance during his callup last season but he’s still not quite there yet. He’s about to enter what-the-hell-are-you territory but to be very honest his name coming up in trade talks made me a little angry. Hold back your snide tweets, apparently they’re informing the real insiders! I can’t imagine anything like the Nylander Saga repeating itself, but this is the Buffalo Sabres we’re talking about.

The Draft last year felt like a coronation for Sabres fans but just because we’re not getting a generational talent this go around doesn’t mean this draft isn’t ripe for drama. Rewind back about a month and Buffalo was once again the home of the NHL Combine. The event that now will be in Buffalo for several years to come saw the genesis of a few Draft narratives for the Sabres. The most notable one is the Alex Turcotte story. Apparently Sabres brass interviewed Turcotte and… his dad? The reports were conflicting but Turcotte definitely represented a big blip on the radar. The young Mittelstadt-color-palate-swapped center is from Chicagoland and was probably not likely falling any further than 7 – Buffalo’s first pick. Turcotte was a popular choice to go to the Blackhawks in many mock drafts because of the Chicago connection. Jason Botterill and the funky bunch also interviewed one London Knights forward Conor McMichael. Sabres bloggers smarter than I say he was an intriguing option for the other first round pick... that’s if we have that second first round pick because with other teams wheeling and dealing for a week plus going into the Draft Jason Botterill was quiet. There had been rumors galore connected to Buffalo from Tampa to Vancouver which made the lack of movement that much more peculiar. Add onto all this the debut of a Vegas Gold look for the Sabres “Golden Season” instead of royal blue and it was a wild week going into the Draft.

Jack Hughes and Kappo Kakko went first overall as expected. The Alex Turcotte watch was short lived, but he didn’t go third overall to Chicago as many predicted. He had to wait all the way to number 5 when the LA Kings scooped him up. Conor McMichael went 25th overall to Washington but this is a Sabres blog so you’re probably waiting for some Sabres talk. With the 7th overall pick the Buffalo Sabres selected WHL center Dylan Cozens. Once again, smarter bloggers than I say that selection was solid because the first round of this draft was really three tiers: the top two, two through about ten and then everyone else. The Red Wings threw a curve ball and selected Disney Channel star Moritz Seider throwing off everyone’s top ten but for the most part there weren’t many surprises. I was on the Cole Caulfield bandwagon, but he probably wasn’t a wise choice at seven. When he began to drop I even entertained the idea of Botterill trading up with that second first rounder to get him, but this was not one of those drafts and he went 15th overall to… Montreal. Ugh. How about something funny? The Panthers picked goalie Spencer Knight with their 13th overall. That was funny too, but this joke is a Sabres joke: Cozens is the first WHL draft pick in Jason Botterill’s time as General Manager of the Buffalo Sabres. This is a real, deep-cut Sabres joke but there is some humor to that. I think the social media guy for the team knew it too because one of the first photos from them after his pick was Sam Reinhart greeting him. Sam is the last WHL guy to be drafted onto the Sabres. Again, it’s deep cut joke about how Botts hates the WHL so it’s not going to get the whole room but there you go: Humor. I’m not going to pretend to know how to project out Cozens because again, I’m not the smart guy in the room; but I will say it is great to start to replenish the center depth in the organization which dropped off a cliff only a few guys down the depth chart.

The Sabres used the 31st overall pick to… just make a pick. No trades in the first round. As Day One wound down the swell of energy that it may happen dissipated and they picked USHL Defenseman Ryan Johnson. I am all for picking lefthanded D to help build up that side of the defense but the buzz around the pick was a guy with a Russian name who will certainly make me regret not knowing his name. Johnson could’ve easily fallen into the second round, but the pick was in and another defenseman is in the pipeline. Trades, at least the variety from the Sabres, were scarce in the remaining rounds on Saturday. The Sabres traded some late round picks but no real consequential trades on Draft weekend for Buffalo put a little bit of a damper on it all for me. I don’t really subscribe to the idea the yet-to-be-announced salary cap number is really what’s stopping trades. PK Subban got traded to the Devils for a bunch of no names and low picks while we wondered if Sabres 3rd round pick goalie Erik Portillo is in fact named after a type of pepper. The lack of movement right now isn’t something worth panicking about but if we’re sitting here next Monday on Free Agency Day wondering if we’re crazy I’m not going to blame anyone for hitting the panic button. Botterill has signaled a renewed faith in Rasmus Ristolainen probably egged on by the new coach so… you can fall either way on whether the OG Rasmus needs to go. I lean toward trade him but that doesn’t have to be right now. We’ll address all this stuff in the free agency blog so let’s take a look at who else was picked. I mentioned Portillo and we won’t see him even in Rochester for a couple years but that’s fine, the goalie depth was beginning to get shallow. Botts said openly he doesn’t want to rush Ukko Pekka-Lukkonen who will probably make his Rochester Americans debut this coming season. That is smart and frustrating because goalies take a long time to develop when you do it right but… uh… did you watch the second half of last season? Part of that collapse was the goalie tandem coming back down to earth hard. Folks were clamoring for UPL, probably a little too hastily but that’s what eight years out of the playoffs will do to you. I am not particularly jazzed about the other three guys we got. You take flyers on guys that far down in the draft and the chances are better than not all three of these guys I am about to mention don’t make the NHL: Aaron Huglen, Filip Cederqvist and Lukas Rousek. Hopefully one of them is a diamond in the rough. Perhaps it’s unfair for us to be so underwhelmed. Sean Tierney at Charting Hockey placed the Sabres in a top six of teams who did well at the Draft. He’s worth follow if you want to understand how you can make a graph of average likelihood to make the NHL because Lord knows I can’t explain that.

Like, share and comment on the New Look Sabres blog. It’s great to be back at it. You can expect the post on the 2019-2020 NHL Schedule later this week. By the sounds of it that will be released by the league either tomorrow or Wednesday. We already have the preseason, season opener and home opener but I’ll save all that analysis for that blog. Then later on next week you can expect a Free Agency Recap. Normally by the fourth of July the action quiets down. Jeff Skinner happened in August last summer but hey, I’m not psychic. Thank you to everyone who responded kindly to me dropping off the map for a couple days. My wife and I had a family emergency that we needed to address so we put everything on hold. We’re back now and things are going to be alright. Your support means a lot to me and I hope if you ever need something I can be there for you as well. To lighten the mood: let’s hope we don’t need to be here for each other after a worst-case scenario offseason! Pieces are moving and for all the rumors the Sabres are in on this guy and that guy there hasn’t been a lot to actually talk about. I guess we’ll see. It wouldn’t be fun if we knew the ending, eh? Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. That Moritz Seider was shocked to go as high as he did. The gif of his reaction is some precious draft video for the ages.

[gutsybitsies]

@omgittybits this is superrr late but: prompt: baker bitty and bittyparse!! HOW DID THIS GET SO LONG?? IDK???

Kent Parson cut down on carbs after playoffs. He’s on the ice less but he’s conditioning more, and he’s in constant contact with his nutritionist slash trainer about his diet and training. Every morning he’s up at 7 am, drinks a glass of orange juice and eats a banana before going on a short jog around his neighborhood. Kent was 5′10 and a natural 165 pounds in a league filled with 6′4 and 200 pound giants, so he’s constantly shoveling steak, protein powder, eggs, fish, and yogurt inside his mouth. He has to put on enough muscle mass during the offseason, because when he starts skating, all that weight would start sloughing off of him because of the grueling schedule. 

That’s why, when Kent was lured into Bit o’ Home by the bright “Grand Opening!” sign on his customary jog, he expected to buy himself something healthy and nutritious. Instead, he found himself laden with two pies, a chocolate smoothie (with zero nutritional value on account of the sugar), and a receipt for a preorder of a custom cake.

And Kent still hadn’t stopped talking.

“So I really want to wow my friends, you know, they’re always chir-teasing me about everything and you know, I’m a kill with kindness kinda guy,” he tried for a smirk. Kent didn’t know what he actually looked like to the cute guy manning the counter and he’s afraid to know. 

“Oh really, you’re a kill with kindness guy?”

“Chyeah, my reputation is on the line here. So do you think that cake is enough?”

Cute Guy giggled. “Well, sir, I ain’t sure if this three tiered strawberry chiffon cake with candy kitten decorations will be done by tonight’s potluck-”

“That’s okay, that’s for next week, there’s another-um-potluck. In the mean time I’ll wow them with these pies tonight.” 

“You haven’t even tried a pie yet, how do you know if they’ll wow your friends?” Cute Guy asked. “You know what, I’m going to give you a slice of each pie, on the house, since you just gave me the biggest order in this shop’s history.”

“You’ve barely been open for a day, you trying to butter me up?” Kent grinned. 

“Depends on whether or not you come back tomorrow for more,” Cute Guy said. 

When Kent left the shop, he looked down at his hands, holding three pie boxes for a potluck that he made up, and a receipt for a cake for another potluck that he made up.

“This is like that time you ordered pizza everyday for two weeks straight because you liked the delivery boy,” Swoops laughed into his phone.

“First of all, it wasn’t the delivery boy, I was just really into pizza, okay?”

“Right. Anyway you’re so tiny, at least this way you have a bunch of food at your house.”

“Shut up, you know I can’t actually eat this many empty calories. I have two steaks and a fuck ton of other food I need to finish today.” 

“You want my help?”

There wasn’t any potluck that night, but Kent’s apartment ended up being invaded by hockey players clamoring for pie. 

The next day, he went on his customary run, but instead of heading back to his apartment for a breakfast shake and bacon, he took a deep breath and stepped into Bit o’ Home. Tinkles of the welcome bell greeted Kent’s ears and he subtly slid into line. Cute guy enthusiastically smiled at him when Kent finally reached him, and today he’s got a pin on his apron (a cute as fuck apron) that said “Eric :D.”

“Hiya, Mr. Kill With Kindness! What can I get for you today?”  Eric asked cheerfully, almost blinding Kent. “I trust the pies went over well?”

“Oh, um,” Kent remembered the orgasmic noises that emanated from his aprtment and how no of it had anything to do with sex. “Yep really destroyed them. That’ll teach Steve Carlsburg a lesson about saying that I never bring anything good.”

Eric giggled again, and Kent swore he could listen to him forever. 

“So um, I’m just here today for a banana protein shake and uh...” Kent looked over the sandwich options, “a Jumbo Roast Beef Panini, a caesar salad, and two eggs benedicts.” 

“Prepping for an intense workout, I see,” Eric rang up his order and said. 

Surprised, Kent gave him a look and Eric laughed again.

“I used to live in a frat house with athletes, I know when someone’s eating up for something intense.” 

“Well, you get out what you put in,” Kent said. 

“If only, the heaviest I ever managed to get was 130,” Eric shook his head, and handed Kent his shake. “The rest of your order will be called out. Feel free to sit and chat!” 

“Won’t your boss get mad at you for this?” 

Eric waved a dismissive hand. “You just missed the morning rush, and I’m the boss! My mission operandi is for this to become a neighborhood fixture. Now you just sit comfortable while I go and refill Agnes and William’s coffee.” 

Kent was so comfortable he was an hour late in his workout routing that day. Swoops complained, but Kent was lost in Bittyland. Eric “Call me Bitty” Bittle used to live in Georgia, went up north to Massachussetts for college, and is now in Vegas for the long haul. 

And Bitty didn’t say this, but Kent is pretty sure he’s gay. Sure, there’s no rainbow flags around the place, but Bitty...Kent mentally slapped himself as he focused once more on spotting Swoops. 

Way to stereotype people, he almost muttered out loud. 

Heading to Bits o’ Home for a heavy morning breakfast became integrated into Kent’s routine. It wasn’t hard, Kent was sucked into Eric Bittle’s orbit the moment he walked into the store.

The day Kent came to pick up the three layered strawberry chiffon cake was the best day yet.

“He likes hockey,” Kent told Swoops as the two of them set out to demolish the cake. “He was wearing Falconer’s gear, and he talked his head off about how amazing the Falcs did last year, and how it was so sad that his ex boyfriend didn’t appreciate the sport as much as he did.”

“So he likes men and hockey.”

“And guess what, Swoops, I’m a man and I’m also hockey. Appreciate hockey, I appreciate hockey.” 

“You gotta set him straight about the Falcs, he’s in Ace territory,” Swoops said. 

Kent ignored him.

“I said, you have to set him straight. About hockey.”

“Parse.”

Kent continues to shovel cake into his mouth.

“I’m so punappreciated.” 

Swoops get a face full of cake after that.

“Hmm, sounds like a handsome guy,” Jack teased.

“You stop that, Mr. Zimmermann. Did you know how hard it was for me not to brag about you when I was talking about the Falconers?”

“That must be such a terrible thing,” Jack said, his chirping tone evident. “Not wanting to use your dear old friend who definitely would not mind being bragged about, especially if it lands you a date.” 

“Oh, you tall, sweet, chirp monster of a young man, don’t you take that tone with me, Mr. Amazing NHL captain!” 

“Haha, anything for you, Bits. At least this one likes hockey, remember Chad?”

“Don’t remind me of Chad,” Bitty snorted. Thinking about Chad reminded him of fonder times. “Jack...”

“Oh, I have George on another line, talk soon, eh?” Jack switched the subject. 

“Of course, I love talking to you, Jack.” 

Bitty stared at his phone sadly. He tucked Senor Bun closer, and turned off his lamp light. He dreamed of smirks and freckles. 

“So get this,” Kent said, as he handed the day’s cupcake to Swoops. “He gave these to me for free. And my shake was on the house today.”

“You know what this means?” Swoops bit into the cupcake and groaned. 

“You gotta ask him out. Go to this baker angel tomorrow and ask him to get coffee or dinner. Put on that nonsense Parson charm or whatever and see if you can get some dick with that.” 

Kent thought about Bitty, shyly looking down at him, cheeks red and warm from the body heat the two of them generate. Bitty’s sweet mouth kissing him, playfully swatting his arm. That one time Bitty came into the cafe in shorts and a tanktop that almost made Kent drop his drink. 

The next day, Kent was a man on a mission. He sauntered into the cafe, called for his usual, and slid into his regular seat. He didn’t make much small talk with Bitty, but ran his lines through his head.

When Bitty called for his order, Kent put on his best smile. Bitty smiled back. 

“So, Bits, you work here everyday?” He said. 

“You see me everyday here, don’t you?” Bitty seemed to get the message though, and his expression turned shy and expectant. It was a cute look on him. 

“Aw, and here I was about to ask you out for dinner on your day off.”

Bitty smiled that smile that made Kent warm inside. “I’d love to.”

“Well, we can’t all be dramatic and kiss the guy we want to date instead of just asking them out,” Bitty said into the phone. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Pretty cheesy,” Jack said. 

“I liked it, he’s a sweet man. And he’s really funny,” Bitty defended Kent. “He’s taking me to this fancy Italian place near the Strip. Picking me up from my place and everything. And he’s been hearing me gabbing on about the shop and my life since the moment he’s stepped into the cafe, it’s time I get to know about him.”

“Are you serious about him? It’s only been three weeks.”

“He’s a good man, Jack,” Bitty insisted.

“I’m sure he is, I’m just worried.”

“It’s just a silly ol’ crush, I’m not falling in love or anything,” He fiddled with Bun’s ears, neglecting to say that he was sure he could.

“You don’t do anything by halves, Bits,” Jack said. Warned. Stated from experience.

“You give me too much credit, Mr. Zimmermann. You know, he still comes up with fake potlucks and parties in order to order more stuff from me? He loves his cat, he has a whole picture album full of her pictures on his phone.”

“Sounds like another Kent I know.”

“Really? How’s Kent Parson doing? You said you were keeping in touch with him?”

“Besides rubbing it in my face that his team won their conference finals? He’s doing fine, he was looking for restaurants the other day.” 

“Lord, and he asked you? That’s the blind leading the blind.” 

They soon said good night, and Bitty again clutched Senor Bun close and dreamt of blue eyes and freckled smiles. 

“So, Kent, what do you do when you’re not talking to me in my store?” Bitty asked, across from him in the Italian restaurant that Jack had recommended to Kent.

“I play hockey, actually, for the Aces.”

Bitty’s eyebrows almost retreated into his hairline.

“Kent Parson?”

“It was kind of awkward to mention after the third time you talked about how amazing the Falconers were.”

Kent watched the emotions flicker across Bitty’s face; skepticism, surprise, and embarrassment. 

“It’s my fault for not recognizing you, you’d think for all the Aces versus Falcs game I’ve seen that I’d remember what you looked like.”

“That’s fine,” Kent laughed, “I think everyone in the cafe knows about your gigantic crush on their captain.”

“Excuse me!” Bitty blushed, mortified. 

“Fine, your gigantic man crush on him. Does that make it less gay? Want to make what’s between us more gay?” He tangled his foot with Bitty’s, enjoying the way it made Bitty blush. “And besides, I’m much more handsome than Zimms.”

They stumbled back to Kent’s place afterwards, giggling and whispering like children. Kent didn’t do much more than make out with Bitty on his sofa, any attempts to go further derailed by more laughing and little conversations. 

“I have to go back now,” Bitty said apologetically.

“I’ll drive you.” 

“It’s late, you can’t-”

“It’s late, I gotta make sure you’re safe.” 

Kent saw how Bitty almost melted at his words, and kissed him again. “I’ll drive you back even if there’s three feet of snow outside.”

Bitty laughed. “That’s not as romantic as you meant it to be, Mr. Parson.”

“Oh? Tell me how to be more romantic, Mr. Bittle.”

Bitty’s eyes darkened, and he looked at Kent hungrily, before untangling himself. “If I do, then I’m afraid I won’t be able to get home on time.” 

“Next time, then,” Kent led Bitty to the door. “I’d like this to happen again.”

“Maybe next time I can choose the restaurant, and you don’t have to resort to asking Jack about this. That boy is hopeless- Kent?” Bitty noticed how Kent froze. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Jack was my former captain in college and we keep in touch. You know, neither of us knew you were Kent Parson when I was talking about you? But he did mention that you asked him about restaurants-are you okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Kent plastered a smile. 

“...I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I just forgot about it during dinner,” Bitty explained, his eyes and voice earnest. But all of Bitty’s rants about how amazing Jack was was flooding into Kent’s mind, and he managed a weak smile and a peck as he saw Bitty off back to his apartment. 

“Well, you know. Sometimes these things don’t work out. It’s only one date, I’m fine,” Bitty reassured Jack.

“I’m still sorry to hear that though,” Jack said. “And he hasn’t called or texted either?”

“I suppose because we saw each other practically every day, I didn’t get his number. And since he hasn’t been coming to the cafe...” Bitty sighed.

“I can give you his number if you want.”

“That’s okay, Jack. If he doesn’t want to see me, that’s fine. Sometimes these things don’t work out.” How many times have he said that? When things with Jack didn’t work out, when family didn’t work out, when Chad didn’t work out. At least with Kent it was quick.

“Bittle,” Jack’s voice was soothing. “It’s okay to let it out.”

“Sorry, it’s just with the shop just opening, and I barely know anyone here, and I thought it would be fun and he was so nice and sweet and I wasn’t expecting anything serious but. It’s just been a lot,” Bitty said. 

“The NHL awards are coming up,” Jack said, “I’ve already planned to come over, but I’ll come earlier, spend some more time with you and you can introduce me around the neighborhood and the people that you do know?”

“That’s kind of you, but I can’t possibly-”

“I’ve driven up to Boston to crash at Shitty’s place for less. He’s pretty much a zombie now, by the way.” Jack pulled out his computer to change his tickets. 

“I know, poor Shitty.”

“Can you stop moping?” Swoops flicked Kent, who was doing reps of leg presses. “Who cares about this guy who dumped you?”

“He didn’t dump me. We only went on one date.” 

Swoops rolled his eyes. “Come on, get up, get up, go take a shower. We’re going to visit the baker. It’s almost closing time, you should be able to get some privacy.” 

“What-no!”

Swoops all but tackled Kent and lifted him, carrying him into the shower. 

“This is a bad idea.” Kent said when they’re almost to the cafe.

“What? You’re gonna march in there and show him the man meat that he missed out on.”

“This is a bad idea because I’m pretty sure he’s in love with someone else and he’s using me as a rebound.” 

“Yeah? As if the person he’s into can beat a fucking pro athlete, where’s all that faith you have in yourself?”

They reached the cafe, only to see Jack Zimmermann in playful banter with a cheery blond. 

Kent  felt his heart broke. Swoops saw his expression, but before he can stop Kent from doing anything stupid, Kent had already marched into the practically empty cafe with a stony expression. 

“Missed me, Zimms? Bits?” 

The two of them stared at him, and Kent was sure of the guilty expression that flitted through Bitty’s face.

“I see you managed to get another NHL captain here once I’m gone,” the words were out of Kent before he could stop himself.

Bitty’s face crumpled and Jack’s hardened. 

“I think you need to leave, now,” Jack said.

“Or what? I mean, Bitty I knew I was a rebound, but I didn’t expect you to snatch Jack up again this fast.”

Jack stood up. “I can’t believe this, Kenny-”

“Oh, and don’t you call me Kenny-”

“-You can’t just come in here-”

“-To this shitty place, just to see you two fucking around-”

“-I moved my trip to Vegas early because you were the shitty person-”

“-and of course the one time I get to have something you have to ruin it-”

“-He’s not a thing you get to have, how can you-”

“-FUCK you, Zimms-”

“-Oh, you can call me Zimms but I can’t-”

“Kent,” Oh, Bitty was in front of him now, with tears threatening to roll down his eyes. All the anger Kent had left him, and all it left was shame. Shame that he was the reason for Bitty to be on the verge of crying. “Did you mean all that?”

“I-no. I’m so sorry. I saw you with him and you were always talking about how amazing Jack was and-” whatever else Kent was going to say was lost as Bitty enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so mad at you,” Bitty sniffled, as he cradled Kent. “For ditching me and now coming here and accusing me of awful things and I swear to God, if you don’t apologize-”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I’m going to forgive you, but only because you’re my only friend in Vegas.” 

Kent looked down at Bitty’s watery eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he turned to Jack, “I-sorry, Zimms.” 

Jack was still glaring at him, and Kent remembered the time when they were teenagers and he said something that made Jack glare at him the same way.

“Alright, now that we’ve got the apologies sorted out, let’s invite Mr. Swodoba in and I can serve him some pie for putting up with this debacle,” Bitty shooed Swoops in and placed both him and Kent in chairs, before serving them all pie. He still won’t look at Kent directly, and Kent could see that he’s trying to make more conversation with Swoops in order to alleviate the tension in the room. 

“Let’s leave, Swoops. I’ll come back tomorrow,” Kent paused, “If you want that.”

“I’d like that,” Bitty said. 

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Kent walked into Bit o’ Home.

“Hi, I’d like to buy five pies and place an order for three custom cakes. Strawberry chiffon, all of them layered.”

Bitty crossed his arms. “I don’t condone with wasting food.” 

“I just thought I’d start from the beginning,” he said.

Bitty softened. He took a business card from the counter and scribbled something on it. 

“Maybe start with some texts?” He slid it to Kent, who held his hand for a second longer than necessary. 

“...I’m still buying the pies by the way. I want us to start over, let me apologize.”

“You’re lucky I like you so much.”

“I know.”

“We have to have more talks about what happened.”

“You name the time and place.”

“And Jack wants to punch you.”

“What?”

“Just kidding,” Bitty said. “Jack’s a sweetheart who won’t hurt a flea.”

“Are we talking about the same Jack Zimmermann? Doesn’t matter,” Kent sighed, “I’ll sacrifice myself for just one punch if it means something to you.”

“Oh, you,” Bitty slapped his arm.