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hunterrrs · 1 year ago

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photos from here, I NEED FOOTAGE OF THIS. also this article is a great read. he’s invited some families who lost their homes in the halifax fires to practice:

By the time you read this, Pittsburgh Penguins players will have munched on the pudding known as haggis, made from the livers, hearts and lungs of sheep. And learned how to shuck oysters, in all their slimy, gooey glory.

All courtesy of Sidney Crosby, the Pittsburgh captain, who brought team building to an entirely new level on Saturday. From the moment months ago that he learned the Penguins would be playing here, Crosby was stoked. A proud native of Cole Harbour, 10 miles from Halifax, the 36-year-old began planning out his transformation from NHL star to tour guide.

“I think just the feel of it, the people, and to see the excitement for the game,” Crosby said Friday. “And just to get around the city a little bit, those types of things.

“It’s somewhere that I’m really proud of, and I hope everyone enjoys themselves there.”

In order to do that, he set something up with a unique Maritime flavor. Welcome to “The Amazing Race: Crosby Edition.”

“When Sidney found out the team was coming here, he wanted to find a fun way to celebrate his hometown with his teammates and educate them on why it’s such a special place,” his father, Troy, said.

He seems to have done exactly that.

After a morning of golf Saturday, the unsuspecting Penguins set out on an “Amazing Race”-like scavenger-hunt competition that would take them through the streets of Cole Harbour, Dartmouth and downtown Halifax, and across Halifax Harbour on a ferry.

Under the format, the players were divided into teams. They were given instructions of where to go, what venues to visit and what tasks they were to do (e.g., eating haggis, shucking oysters), all while going up against the clock.

The instructions came on laminated cards featuring the Penguins logo and a “Welcome to Cole Harbour” greeting.

The message on one of the cards read, “Every player has to shuck two oysters and eat them or have a teammate eat them on their behalf. Careful with that knife, and don’t break any shells!”

Crosby enlisted the help of Paul Mason, one of his baseball and minor hockey coaches, to help plan the event. Mason was paramount in setting up the three Cole Harbour Stanley Cup celebrations in Crosby’s honor, and No. 87 didn’t hesitate when it came to the perfect person to set up this event.

“In organizing this, when he talked to me about it, he wants this entire weekend to be pretty special for the community, for his teammates, for everyone around him,” Mason said. “You can sense how much these few days mean to him. You could sense his anticipation for months.”

Mason said that even though Crosby is the host for his teammates this weekend, he’s going to try to win everything: golf, the scavenger hunt, the preseason game Monday, you name it.

“He’s competitive at everything, even as a little kid when I was coaching him,” Mason said. “And that hasn’t changed.

“When the NHL was shut down during COVID, his dad Troy and I played Sidney and one of his friends in a golf match. They should have won, but somehow we did. He didn’t accept that. He said it was two out of three. When we won the second one he said it was three out of five. We ended up playing seven of them. The seventh one was in December with snow on the ground. They won that one to take the series 4-3. Suddenly that was acceptable because they’d won.

“Once they’d finally won, it was over,” Mason said with a laugh.

During some of those summers, Greenwood has helped organize some of the offseason skates featuring Crosby, MacKinnon and Marchand at a local arena. The competitiveness gets intense at times, something Greenwood said helps all three drive each other.

“Yeah, they’re friends,” he said. “But when they start playing against each other at times, you’d never know it. They want to beat one another at any and all costs.

“You can see how that drive, that determination, that win-at-all-costs attitude rubs off on some of the younger guys.”

Count Drake Batherson as one of them. The 25-year-old Senators forward grew up in New Minas, 50 miles northwest of Halifax, and has been training during the offseason with Crosby, Marchand and MacKinnon since 2019. He calls those workouts “one of my favorite times of the year.”

As such, he’s looking forward to facing Crosby and the Penguins in Halifax on Monday.

“I've still got posters of the Penguins and Sid on my wall at my parents' house, so it's pretty fun now that me and Sid have built a relationship and we're buddies," Batherson said. "It's pretty cool looking back on it.”

It was a tough spring and summer for Nova Scotia.

In late May and early June, wildfires raged through the outskirts of Halifax and throughout the province. More than 16,000 people were forced to evacuate as a result, many eventually returning to find their homes were nothing more than heaps of smoldering ashes.

Less than two months later, the area was hit with record rainfall that caused historic flooding. Water did seep into Crosby’s home, though to nowhere near the extent of some others where people pretty much lost everything.

“The area has been through a lot,” he said. “But the great thing about some of these communities, and the area in general, is that everyone sticks together and everyone’s willing to help each other.

“I think when you’ve seen adverse times here over the years, you’ve seen people come together more and more. And I think we take a lot of pride in that here. The fact that people know they can depend on each other is huge. I think we’ve shown that time and time again, and there’s pride that comes with that.”

Crosby is doing his part to teach local kids exactly that.

On Sunday, the Penguins will hold a practice at Cole Harbour Place. Hundreds of children from the local minor hockey systems have been invited to attend and take part in a Q&A session with some Pittsburgh players and, with a select few kids getting to go on the ice with them.

Part of that group will be kids from minor hockey whose families lost their homes in the fires. Crosby specifically wanted them to attend, with Mason helping to make it happen. Given the trauma they and their families have gone through, it is Crosby’s way of trying to brighten up their lives, even if it’s just for one afternoon.

“That’s Sid, right?” Greenwood said. “He’s going to have an impact on these kids, both on the ice and off.”

He already has.

In 2009, Crosby established the Sidney Crosby Foundation, an organization that improves the lives of children who are sick or struggling. More recently, Crosby and several foundation board members created Nova Scotia Showdown T-shirts heading into the game Monday, with proceeds going to his foundation.

“He’s helping young kids who are going through hard times, and he’s being a role model for young hockey players in the province,” Mason said. “He’s going out of his way to show his Penguins a good time here, and he’s being a great ambassador for the community.”

Greenwood agrees.

“It’s a privilege,” he said, “to say you live in the same place as someone like that.”

#he is soooooooo #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #drake batherson #ottawa senators #ryan graves #po joseph #kris letang

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techramonic · 4 months ago

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What are some facts or tidbits about Daniel that you don't think is very well-known?

Hey! Thanks for the great question. I have a few things not a lot of people have talked about Daniel, all of which are information taken from his father's book: "Walking in Daniel's Shoes".

Facts about Daniel Mauser

1. Daniel's name came from the Biblical character Daniel and his mother Linda's fondness of Elton John's song titled with the same name. Conner was Linda's maiden name and since she was an only child, it was a way for them to carry her family's last name.

2. In sixth grade, he struggled somewhat with depression. After his mother sent him to a therapist, it was revealed that he was feeling stressed because at the time, he had pneumonia and missed school a few times. He felt that his teacher was pressuring him to catch up. Fortunately, he recovered after a few months.

3. Daniel used to be in cub scouts and boy scouts for a few years. Once school had became more hectic and he was more engaged in piano lessons, he dropped out of the scouts. He had earned basic badges but was not too enthusiastic with scouting long-term.

4. On July 24, 1999, Boy Scout 359 installed a park bench in Daniel’s memory along the South Rim Trail at Roxborough State Park, ten miles south of Columbine. Daniel was once a member of the Boy Scout Troop that preceded 359. Roxborough was the Mauser family’s favorite hiking area.

5. He played chess and won second place in a Denver metro tournament as a member of the school's chest club team. He also won two National Science Olympiad awards, presented to the top ten scorers in general science knowledge.

6. He was an occasional babysitter and was great with kids.

7. He was a Junior Volunteer at Swedish Hospital for two summers and helped in the pharmacy and he expressed interest in working in a medical or medical research field.

8. Despite winning often in games like Super Mario Brothers and even Foosball, his dad had caught on he was getting bored of playing with him, but despite that, he still played whenever he was invited because that was how much he loved his father.

9. He had a keen interest in current events and social issues and was a frequent reader of Time Magazine and viewer of 60 Minutes.

10. His father said he sometimes worried about little things, like if the gas tank in the car was getting too low.

11. He played soccer for a couple of years when he was younger, tried skiing, and played baseball on a YMCA team.

12. Before his death, Daniel's Biology teacher told his mother that he would be receiving an award for outstanding sophomore biology student. It was a supposed secret, one which Daniel never found out.

13. His family was very close. Tom described them as a "Dinner Table Family", who always ate dinner together. According to his father's words, "there was no sneaking off to watch the TV or play on the computer. We are together, talked together, and exchanged stories."

14. Daniel and his sister were close despite their contrasting personalities. Daniel was more like his mother—shy, introspective, intelligent, and calm. His sister Christine was like her father—outgoing, witty, a bit wild and crazy. He would often roll his eyes at her and in an exasperated tone, he would exclaim, "Theater people! Oh, my God!"

15. He had a dry sense of humor and his mom thought he prided himself on being a rational sort of fellow who was not given to drama of any sort.

16. Tom, Daniel's father, grew out of poverty. He came from Finelyville, a small town south of Pittsburgh. His father was a coal miner, his mother was a housewife, and he was the youngest out of four siblings. Tom rarely had pictures of himself. However, he didn't want that to happen with his children, so he would frequently take their pictures and film them to keep memories.

17. Daniel didn't like his pictures being taken when he was a teen. His father would still insist to take pictures for keepsake.

18. When he was fifteen and a half, Daniel was qualified to receive his driver's permit but he said he wasn't ready yet.

19. His nickname in debate class, according to Devon Adams, was "Moose": "So appropriate —it's a large, amusing but quick and fierce when-it-needs-to-be animal."

20. Daniel volunteered to rake the leaves off the lawn of a neighborhood senior citizen's house after he recently had a heartattack.

#daniel mauser #daniel!#columbine 1999 #understand and remember #asks

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beggingwolf · 2 months ago

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CRYBABY

Jen gives Zhenya a look that could peel paint as he jogs out of the hotel lobby.

“Not late,” he cuts her off as she yanks open the back door of the big, black SUV, the sort that always turns up for these events.

“Thirty seconds,” is all she says, voice dry against the soggy, warm Newark air. Zhenya is rarely in New Jersey so early in the year and it sits on his skin like a grime. It’s nothing like the warm blanket of Miami’s heat, which Zhenya already misses even while his hair still carries the faint scent of saltwater.

Jen shuts the door loudly behind the two of them, cocooning them in the cool, air-conditioned interior, and smacks a clipboard right onto Zhenya’s thighs.

“Why?” he grumbles, and she buckles her seatbelt with a loud click as he peers at the itinerary for the NHL’s Media Tour.

“It’s just like last year, yes?” he asks as he flicks through the pages.

The English pokes uncomfortably at his brain, and he takes a moment to really look at the letters. He’d spent the better part of his summer carefully leafing through a Dostoevsky novel that had a glossy paperback cover and too-white pages. Between his halfhearted attempts to self-educate and his summer back in Moscow, readjusting to the spikes of written English is an ugly affair.

“Today you’ve got interviews with networks, the off-ice promotional shoot, and a Q&A session,” Jen rattles off, tapping at her phone. “Tomorrow you do on-ice filming.”

Zhenya pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, letting the pages fall back in order before dumping the clipboard onto the empty seat next to him. The drive isn’t far; Jen had booked the same hotel the Penguins stay in when they come for games. Zhenya walks into Prudential Center through the back entrance he always uses, adjusting his suit jacket as Jen flashes her badge at the security guard.

It’s strange, in some way, to come back to this after his summer. The reporters can’t resist bringing up the Penguins’ ignoble exit to playoffs, their postseason’s tailspin into failure. It’s easier to think of his time back in Magnitogorsk—where he had a K stitched onto his jersey instead of a C, where the media asked him pointed questions in no-nonsense tones—than it is to think about the abbreviated NHL season that had followed.

It had been an odd year. The KHL had felt familiar and foreign all at once. Zhenya had become Malk once again, and Malk tore it up, almost two points per game. It had been fun to stretch out his old memories and readjust to the international ice size. He’d felt young again while living in his parents’ house, decorating the New Year’s yolka with them and skittering out of the way when Geoffrey, enormous and terrifying, bounded around corners and nearly took out Zhenya’s knees.

And then he’d gotten the call that the owners and the union had figured their shit out. He’d gotten on a flight back to Pittsburgh during a winter snowstorm, Moscow howling its rage at his departure. It had been a portent of the things to come: his concussion in January, his shoulder injury in March, and then the Eastern Conference Final, where Zhenya’s Penguins had been pushed to their knees by the Bruins.

Zhenya had barely gotten three months to lick his wounds in Moscow and tan them away in Miami. The new season stretches out in front of him, and he tries to curry hope in his chest as reporters ask him about the new divisions and his Penguins’ chances.

He’s lingering outside of a conference room, throwing too many texts to Nealsy and pestering him about when he’ll be back in Pittsburgh, when he hears hushed voices approaching.

He presses himself against the cinderblock wall to make room. Jen abandoned him to make sure he’s still scheduled for the roundtable discussion and Zhenya is already tired. The humidity outside leaks into the arena, and Zhenya feels rumpled and groggy and honestly doesn’t want to deal with Toews’s weighty, complicated conversations or Doughty’s gregariousness.

“Hey,” Zhenya hears, and he looks up.

Oh.

Zhenya has been asked about Sidney Crosby more times than he can count. Today, last season, even during the lockout. A stout little thing out of Canada, fast with the puck and strong on his skates.

He’s bigger now than he was when Zhenya had seen him in Ufa at World Juniors, when the whole of Metallurg had hopped onto a bus, full and sated from their New Year’s dinners, and made a weekend out of watching the Canadians and Russians duke it out over bronze.

Crosby’s smile is nothing like the sullen, angry expression that had been plastered onto his face when Russia sent Canada home empty-handed. He’s in a dark suit that’s abysmally cut for him—too boxy, an immature, poorly-tailored design that rankles Zhenya’s European sensibilities. His grin is boyish and confident, and Zhenya’s been shown a clip or two of his interviews; he’s good-tempered and answers everything asked of him.

Jen had told Zhenya to take notes. Zhenya had told Jen he was going to get her fired.

Crosby holds out a hand, and Zhenya glances down at it.

“I’m Sid,” Crosby says. “Sidney Crosby. This is Nate. Nice to meet you.”

Lingering behind Crosby, obviously more nervous and looking like an underbaked piroshki, is MacKinnon. Canada’s two golden boys, blazing into the NHL in the wake of the lockout.

Crosby’s smile widens, just a bit, and Zhenya finally reaches out and wraps Crosby’s smaller hand in his own.

As soon as Zhenya engages, MacKinnon jumps forward eagerly, sticking out his own hand. Zhenya gives him a reluctant shake, and MacKinnon’s hand grips tighter.

“Wow, Geno, like, the Russian bear, right?” MacKinnon laughs, high and delighted like he's a child and not one of Zhenya’s new coworkers. Crosby clears his throat softly but pointedly, and he widens his eyes at MacKinnon in an obvious plea to shut the fuck up.

Zhenya smirks, and when Crosby notices, his ears go pink.

#I wrote this in. uh. 2021. it's been a..... while lol #BUT my idea of what this fic is has also evolved a lot so I think it'll change #anyways: sid's a hab; geno's captain of the penguins; they do not like each other; sid has MAJOR daddy issues #ask game #thanks t!

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antifainternational · 1 year ago

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This summer, The International Anti-Fascist Defence Fund helped pay for lawyers for two anti-fascists arrested in Pittsburgh during a protest against an event where trans people's right to exist was being "debated" by a paleo-conservative libertarian and one of Ben Shapiro's lackeys. Full story above. Help us defend the people defending the rights of trans people to simply exist - make a contribution to the Defence Fund!

#antifa #trans rights #transphobia #ben shapiro #pittsburgh #respect existence or expect resistance #solidarity #fighting hate is not a crime #anti-fascism = self-defence #solidarity is our weapon #the international anti-fascist defence fund

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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year ago

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behind the glass part one | (tgm x nhl)

note: i've finally sat down long enough to actually write this and im so excited that it's finally here!

warnings: a few swear words, nothing too bad. not a lot of dialogue, mostly background stuff, time jumping, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic

beta'd by the lovely @sarahsmi13s

word count: 4.2k

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The first time your parents took you to a hockey game, it was 2008 and you were 13 years old. You remember it was glass seats, home-shoots-twice side right off to the left of the net for the Pittsburgh Penguins in Mellon Arena, affectionately named The Igloo for the white domed top and it being home to the Penguins.

Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, the Penguins Two Headed Monster, had a combined 68 goals and 148 assists that season. They both racked up career 100 goals with Crosby earning his 200th career assist and 300th career point. Malkin earned the Art Ross trophy as well as the Conn Smythe trophy with a nod to the Hart Memorial trophy, whereas Crosby only received a nod for the Mark Messier Leadership Award.

The Penguins had a decent regular season that year as a team. 45 wins to their 37 losses (28 in regulation and 9 in overtime) but they went on to beat the Philadelphia Flyers, then the Washington Capitals, then the Hurricanes over in Raleigh before finally beating the Detroit Red Wings for the Stanley Cup at the Joe Louis Arena.

Your dad used to joke that you didn’t blink the entire time that you were there, not even during the intermissions between periods. From that moment forward, you were hooked. Hockey consumed your life, you begged your parents for the chance to go again, and again, and again. You went to every home game that took place on weekends. The glass seats were a gift as a back to school surprise, but you never minded sitting further back if it meant you had a better view of the ice.

Over the next 12 years you must have attended nearly 500 games (professional and college), and when you weren't at the games, you were watching them on TV. You, with the help of your parents and grandparents, cultivated your childhood around the sport. Games, practices, meet-the-players events… you attended as much as you could; you even played on a rec team for a bit.

In high school you convinced the head of the newspaper to let you write all four years instead of just your junior and senior years. You specialized in sports, aside from hockey, you were well educated with baseball and football. You graduated high school with a full ride to Penn State University where you double majored in digital journalism and telecommunications and received a certificate in sports journalism.

You thanked whatever god there was above that you managed to bag a position with the Penguins as an assistant photographer for the team. You became a permanent fixture on your favorite team during year one of their back-to-back Stanley Cups, one away at San Jose (2016) and the second one at Nashville (2017) and you were just as over the moon as the players were as you watched Sidney lift the cup for the third time in the last decade.

As you made your way onto the ice, you threw some of the Predators players condolences and “good game [insert player here]” as they worked their way off the ice.

You had developed a close bond with the Russian half of the Monster, and with his wife at home with their newborn son, you made sure to facetime her as Geno skated up to you with the cup, cheering to her in their native tongue. You leave him to talk to his wife while you go off and take pictures of the rest of the players and staff that made it out to Nashville while they’re still celebrating on the ice before moving into the locker room.

The summer of 2017 was a whirlwind event.

Between attending cup celebrations for the friends you made on the team and then almost immediately getting right back to it with pre-season at the Penguins practice facility, UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex, in Cranberry.

On a rare day off, you and fellow Penguins photographer Leland Hawkins were at PNC Park watching the Pirates play the Cubs when the news came through.

“Jesus Christ.” you mumble as you look at your phone screen.

“What?” Leland asks, eyes not leaving the field as she shovels popcorn into her mouth.

“San Diego just announced that they were approved for their own NHL team and they broke ground on an arena that’s expected to be complete prior to the start of the 2020-21 season,” you paraphrase aloud as you scan the article. “We just went through a draft with Vegas and now we need to go through it again?”

“You’re joking, right? We just lost Fleury and now we’re about to lose ANOTHER person? Unbelievable…” Lee mutters before taking your phone from you and reading the article for yourself.

You watch as Rizzo hits a line drive to left field to take first base and you smile a bit, he was your favorite player after all, but the Pirates were the home team. Either way you would be happy with the outcome.

Expansion drafts were never fun for anyone. You remember the hot coal feeling in your stomach as you watched Marc-Andre say his goodbyes to Sid, Geno, and Kris. Players he had known for his entire career to go somewhere completely new.

“I hope I never get asked to go somewhere new. I don’t think I could ever leave this view,” you say as you kick your feet up on the seat in front of you, stealing Leland’s popcorn as you look out past the outfield to the Allegheny River and the Pittsburgh Skyline. For it being Father’s Day, the park wasn’t that packed considering the weather was absolutely beautiful.

“Yeah I think I could. Isn’t there a Navy base in San Diego? All the hot seamen.”

“Is there even a market for another team there? There’s already three teams in California, two of them are not even three hours away.” you say before cheering as Rizzo crosses home plate, bringing the score to 3-0, Cubs.

“New York has two basically next door to each other and then there’s the New Jersey team, ALSO right there.” Leland tries to rationalize and you shake your head.

“Madison Square Garden is in Manhattan and the Barclays Center is in Brooklyn, there’s a forty-ish minute difference and the Prudential Center is an hour away from Madison,” you correct her before standing. “Want anything from concession?”

“Get me a beer please? And why do you know all that?”

“I make it my job to know!” you yell back as you walk away from her.

While in line, you scan through the article again. The old Pechanga Arena will be demolished and then rebuilt to become a new top of the line facility, not too much different from the newer Little Ceasar’s Arena in Detroit, and will only be a 15 minute highway drive from Petco Park.

You shake your head and slip your phone back into your pocket before ordering two beers and a couple of pretzels before pressing the thought of another expansion team to the back of your mind.

The rest of the game flies by and the Pirates lost the series 7-1 which you weren’t surprised by. Tthe Cubs are a good team who’re just coming off the tail end of winning the World Series only eight months prior.

The news of another expansion was the talk of the locker room the next time you were at the Sports Complex. You were sitting in the hallway leading up to the locker room taking pictures when a little blond boy came running up to you.

“Lens!” You hear and you have barely enough time to set your camera down before you’re being knocked over by Nikita Malkin.

“Nik! What are you doing here?” you laugh as you wrap your arms around him.

“Gonna skate with daddy,” he says, his English is good but you know that Anna and Geno speak Russian primarily at home.

“That’ll be fun, gonna score some goals on Muzz?” He nods and you smile, “Good, score one for me.” you say before he bounces off and you manage to get a few photos of him and Geno walking down the hallway.

During the first half of the 2017-18 season the Pens were 19-21 and 28-14 in the back half. They managed to take second in the metropolitan division and head into the playoffs, where, unfortunately they had a second round exit after losing to the Capitals in game six.

As sad as you were for the team to go early, you were thankful for the opportunity to take a bit of a break. You and Leland were able to travel around Europe for a few months before reporting back to Pennsylvania before the players were due to return.

You were taking some pictures of new players’ jerseys that were hanging up when you heard the door open. You look over and see the captain standing there and you give him a small smile.

“Hey Sid. Ready to be back?” you ask as you move over to the next stall.

“Oh yeah, hopefully we’ll make it past round two this year,” he says and he takes a seat and starts pulling stuff out of his duffle that he had slung around his shoulder.

“Well, you never know. I’m just glad Ovechkin can finally shut up now about not having a cup,” you say and he laughs. His rivalry with the Russian has always been a big thing on the ice, but off you knew that the two were friends.

“Right, happy for him though,” he says before looking over at you. “What happened to Leland? Doesn’t she usually do this?”

“She actually moved to Denver. So it’s just me now. Well, at least until my assistant gets here.” you say and he laughs.

“A promotion? Good for you. You always deserved it.” He hesitates, “No offense to Lee.”

You smile and nod, “I’m sure she wouldn’t take any offense, Sid. How was your off season?”

“It was good, Nate and I did a lot around Cole Harbour. Spent a lot of time relaxing at home, played a bit with Taylor while she was in town. What about you?”

“Went to a lot of Pirates games, helped Lee move, spent a lot of time outside with my younger siblings, hung out with some of the WAGs that stayed in town..” you say before taking a seat next to him. “Did you read that on top of the San Diego expansion, Seattle is getting a team now too? Making the even 32 teams and odd 33? Wonder who will be next.”

“Yeah I heard… It’s weird though, that Bettman has allowed so many expansions.”

“It’s Bettman, are you surprised? Why does he do half the shit he does?” You roll your eyes, your disdain for the NHL Commissioner very evident on your face.

“Don’t say that too loud, he might hear you,” he bumps your shoulder and you laugh.

“Right, the last thing I need is to be fired, or worse… transferred.”

“Hey, you work for Mario and he loves you. He won’t let you leave.” Sidney tells you and you can tell he’s being honest. Crosby may be many things, but a liar? Never.

You notice the proximity between the two of you and you take a deep breath, his cologne filling your senses before you clear your throat and stand up. “I uh.. I’ll leave you to change. See you on the ice, Cap.”

You shake the thought of being so close to him off, he’s Sidney Crosby and you’re just a photographer for the team.

You wait for Sid to take the ice before moving down to the bench so you can get pictures of him without the glass being in the way.

You remember the day that he got drafted to the Penguins in 2005, you remember all the things that everyone had said about him, “he was going to save the Penguins”. All the injuries he had, all the concussions, the year of missed games… He was one of the best skaters in the game after some of the legends. Watching him skate is the reason that you took up skating yourself, he was your on ice hero but you would never tell him that.

After taking some pictures of him skating, you make your way out from behind the bench so you can head up to your office and get started on picking what pictures to send to the digital media team.

Before you know it, the season is already ending with a first round exit, swept by the Islanders despite winning 44 games in the regular season.

By the time March of 2020 rolled around, the Penguins had 40 wins and 29 losses, a comeback that they needed.

Until everything came to a standstill.

Commissioner Bettman paused the season due to the threat of Covid-19. All non-essential positions were suspended due to the virus.

For the next four months you didn’t leave your home. All groceries were ordered from people who were brave enough to do Shipt, you taught yourself how to actually cook, spent a lot of time talking to your parents over Zoom, you started to write more, making mock articles to get back into the swing of the journalism aspect of your job again.

By the time that July had come around there were two hub cities named for the play-offs, Toronto and Edmonton. You traveled with the Penguins to Toronto for the modified tournament but left after the Canadiens knocked out the Penguins after three games.

September 28, 2020 the Lightning were crowned Stanley Cup Champions, and the 20-21 season began officially on January 13, 2021. Only 56 games would be played before the Cup would be returned to the Lightning again only a few short months later.

The San Diego expansion draft took place just after Stamkos raised the cup for the second time.

You watched as players got drafted to the San Diego Tomcats, shocked as some teams traded away some of their best skaters, knowing that they didn’t go lightly. Just like what happened with Vegas when Fleury left, you felt a sinking feeling in your chest.

You watched as the last six players were drafted: first was Bradley Bradshaw, center from the Capitals; Reuben Fitch, left defense from the Predators; Mickey Garcia, left wing from the Rangers; Jake Seresin, right wing from the Stars [you rolled your eyes at his name, good luck Tomcats]; Javy Machado, right defense from the Bruins; and the fortieth man drafted was Robert Floyd, goalie from the Blues.

Floyd and Bradshaw were the two you recognized the most between the six of them. Both were on cup winning teams in the last five years so you were surprised to see them there, but then again they weren’t the only Cup winners on the team, some guy named Brigham Lennox from the Lightning was also there. He was going to be a cocky asshole.

You were driving into PPG Paints the next morning when you got the phone call, it was a number you didn’t recognize so you were hesitant when you finally did answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Champaign?” a deep voice asked from the other side and you sucked in a breath before answering.

“This is.”

“My name is Beau Simpson, I’m calling to inform you that you’re being relocated to San Diego. You’ll need to be here when players report for training.” he says and you pull over to the side of the road.

“Sir I’m employed directly with the Penguins, not the NHL-”

“Oh I know. You’re being sent over by recommendation of Mario Lemieux.”

“Oh.”

“I know you’re comfortable with the Penguins, I know that you’re from Pittsburgh so it’ll be hard leaving home. But I’ve seen your work both on the ice and off, as well as behind the glass. You’re talented and as a new team, we could use some talent everywhere it counts.” he says, and you throw your head back against your seat.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be on a plane before the afternoon.” you tell him and you can hear the relief in his voice.

“Wonderful. Bradley Bradshaw will meet you at the gate, he was the first one here so he can get you to the facility.”

“I’m assuming this is an office phone, so I’ll email you the details of my flight.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mario already has them. I’ll pass your number along to Bradshaw.” he says before the line goes dead and you look at your phone as the line disconnects.

You pull back into the road and continue your drive, the last one to PPG Paints as a home team member.

Mario is in his office when you make your way upstairs. A gentle knock on the glass alerts him to your presence and he gives you a smile, “come in.”

“Beau Simpson called me while I was on my way over.” you tell him as you sit down across from him.

“Yeah, he called me last night. I’m sorry I didn’t-”

You hold your hand up and stop him, “don’t worry about it. It’s… okay. It’ll suck leaving the team and everyone behind but new opportunities, right? Plus it’ll be nice seeing the sun for longer than three out of twelve months.” you joke and he cracks a smile and laughs with you.

“You’ll be missed.”

“I know.”

He passes you an envelope and it has your last check as well as a flight itinerary and contract for the Tomcats for you to read through on the plane. “Well, I’m sure you have some owner stuff to do so I’m gonna go say bye to the team.”

He stands and pulls you in for a hug, you were close with everyone, players and staff, so it wasn’t surprising when he pulled you in gently. “I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

You pull away and give him a gentle squeeze on his arm before walking out of the office and down to the ice, stopping along the way to say goodbye to familiar faces in the hallways.

You take a look out to the ice, you watch as the team laughs and smiles, passing the pucks to each other as they all run their own drills. Coach Sullivan is the first person to notice you, skating over and leaning against the boards.

“No camera today?”

“No.. not today… or tomorrow… or next week.” you say and his smile drops.

“No, where to?”

“San Diego.”

“Well, they just got a great person added to their team, it sucks it comes at our loss.” he says before blowing his whistle, getting the attention of all the players. Sidney is the first to skate over to you, slowing down before hitting the boards.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m being relocated. So I just wanted to come by and say goodbye to the team.” you tell him with a sad smile. He opens the gate for you and you set down your paper work on the bench before taking his hand and stepping onto the ice.

One by one, all players new and old (mostly old) pull you in for a tight hug, ignoring the sting of the hard pads digging into you at odd angles. You laugh as Geno hauls you into the air before setting you back down on the ice, only slipping a little bit but he’s quick to steady you.

After wrapping up your goodbyes, you head back to your apartment and pack up just the necessities before meeting your mom downstairs.

“You ready sweetheart?” she asks, helping you with your camera bags and you sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be to move away from the two homes I’ve ever known.” you tell her and she gives you a small smile.

“You’re going to be just fine over there.”

“I know, it's just… this city means so much to me. It’ll suck only being back for a few games a season.”

“And holidays.” she says and you laugh.

“And holidays.” you confirm and she smiles.

The drive to the airport went too quick for your liking and before you knew it, you were in the air above the steel city, watching as the skyline and the yellow bridges fade into the distance.

Six hours later you were landing in Fightertown, USA. Stiff from the flight, you do your best to work out all the kinks and cracks that your body goes through as you walk over to baggage claim. It’s easy to find your gear bags due to the giant Penguins logo on the sides, and the small bright yellow suitcase came shortly after.

You turned your phone back on and the first notification that you get is from an unknown number and a text that reads

Waiting for you at the Starbucks in term. 2. See you soon! -Rooster

“Rooster? Who the fuck is that?” you mumble before making your way to the Starbucks. You do a quick scan of the area, you know what Bradley looks like, so you know that none of the people around you are him.

15 minutes go by when an out of breath, lanky brunette walks up to you.

“I am so sorry I’m late, I was here but then I had to go to the bathroom and then there was some kids that recognized me and-”

“Take a breath, I’m not mad.”

“Okay, give me a minute,” he takes a few deep breaths before holding out his hand, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster, if you want.”

“Rooster?” you ask, his palm large and warm against your own as you introduce yourself as well and you take the moment to take him in, his brown hair is already sun bleached at the front and he dons a pornstache that he somehow manages to pull off.

“Yeah, Ovi started calling me that when I joined the Caps so..”

“Oh trust me, I am well versed with Ovi nicknames. He used to call me chicken because my family had chickens a few years ago.. He’s the one who started calling me Lens, actually.” you say as you stand up and pull the handle up on your suitcase.

Bradley is taking the strap of your gear bag when you grab it from him and he looks at you wide eyed.

“Sorry it's just.. There’s a lot of expensive equipment and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Would you rather carry it or…?”

“Yeah, sorry I know it's weird and I know everything is packed really well, but I know it was probably thrown around during loading and unloading.” you say and he gives you a small smile.

“Well, then I’m taking this.” he says as he takes the handle of your suitcase from you. “Welcome to San Diego, Lens.” he says as you make your way to the front where his Bronco is waiting for you.

You two make idle small talk as he makes the short drive from the airport to where the new Pechanga Arena is located.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you in the Caps uniform anymore.” you say as you climb out of the car and he laughs.

“Yeah, but it’ll be nice to see you everyday now.” he says and you notice the flirty smile on his face and you roll your eyes.

“Just remember to smile for the camera, Bradshaw.” you chirp back to him as he opens the door for you.

Standing in the vestibule of the arena, you take everything in. The Navy timeline that wraps around the wall, the Top Gun memorabilia that's displayed behind glass. Bronze statues of the old San Diego Gulls members standing proudly. Bradley gives you a gentle nudge before looking up and you do the same, a replica F-14 Tomcat is hanging, wings in, right above your head.

“Wow… I’ve been to Little Caesars many times over the years, for various reasons, so I knew a little bit of what to expect but this is… Amazing.”

The two of you wander down into the bowl seating and you watch as the ice gets painted, the steel blue and slate gray of the logo is being carefully brushed onto the stark white ice. You follow him around the rest of the arena, a small tour of the locker room where there’s various players in a state of undress after a voluntary workout before going to the offices.

Your office was a bit bigger than the one at PPG, the only difference was the F-14 that was painted on the wall instead of the Penguin from the 90’s that you loved so much.

“Simpson, Coach Kazansky and the rest of the coaching staff are going to be waiting in the review room whenever you’re ready. It’s down the hall to the left, and then it's the third door on the right.” Bradley says before leaving you to settle in.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your mom that you landed just fine and were already settling into your new office before you put your hands on your hips and let out a sigh as you looked around, it’ll be a long road of making your office comfortable like it was back home, but you honestly couldn’t wait to see what this new city would bring you.

------------

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amjusttree · 6 months ago

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My reaction to the temperature of my location was the biggest sign of how out of place I was.

When I moved to Washington state from the south, I was seemingly the only person who had no idea I'd need a coat in September. I was the only one who couldn't handle snow. I was so maladjusted to it that I cried when I made the mistake of going outside without gloves, unable to handle the sting of cold on my hands. I felt like I belonged when I knew the exact number of layers to wear, when I laughed at people from warmer states complaining about their winters. ("It's not even that cold" I'd say in pure condescension.)

When I moved to Pittsburgh for college, I'd expected a northern summer. I'd shown up in a skirt and button up for an orientation event and got stared at by more sensible people in shorts and T-shirts. I knew I was assimilated properly when I owned summer clothes and could stand in the rain without an umbrella. When I could walk covered in sweat without complaining about the heat and stopped saying I missed winter.

Ironically, I felt the most out of place in my dorm. My pajamas were too short and thin for the temperature. I'd shiver under my comforter at night, waking up with a stuffed up nose and a bit of a cough when seemingly no one else was affected by it. I realized that I was truly a resident there when I was willing to sneak a space heater past the staff and stopped caring about being fined.

As of now, I have the perfect sweater for Washington summers. I'll be in a student apartment with temperature controls instead of a dorm. I have shorts and a T-shirt for Pittsburgh summers and trench coats for mid spring.

I guess that means I've figured it out.

#dark academia #writing #journaling #academia #literature #aesthetic #author #bookblr #book tumblr

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backup-baby-backup · 1 year ago

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Cruel Summer: the hit that was meant to be?

Pictured: dramatic reenactment of us waiting for Cruel Summer to be a single for 4 years.

Background

This summer is the apocalypse.

-- Lover Journal entry, dated 29 August 2016

We all know about the cruel summer in question, right? To be fair, technically the cruelty of the summer stemmed from "a desperate summer love that might be doomed from the start" and "some element of desperation and pain in it, where you’re yearning for something that you don’t quite have yet", and not whatever Kim Kardashian was doing on Twitter, but given how those two events occured basically simultaneously, it's not outrageous to claim both experiences informed each other.

In 2018, Taylor went on the Reputation Stadium Tour. Between shows, Taylor started working on Lover, getting into the studio with Joel Little, Frank Dukes and our favourite producer Jack Antonoff. For Cruel Summer, however, there was something special: Annie Clark, better known as St. Vincent, was a credited writer on the track.

St. Vincent had worked with Jack for her 2017 album Masseduction, so much like how Lana ended up in the studio with Taylor, we can safely assume that Jack brought the two together. On 6 June 2018, St. Vincent mentioned that she had reworked one of her songs from Masseduction, Slow Disco, into a poppier production with Taylor's support. With this in mind, we can probably assume that she had cross passed with Taylor around this time. Taylor was papped recording at Electric Lady (Jack's stomping grounds) on 18 July 2018, which lines up with this theory. [1]

The failed single push

I’m not trying to blame the global pandemic that we had, but that is something that happened that stopped Cruel Summer from ever being a single.

-- Taylor Swift after performing Cruel Summer on tour in Pittsburgh, 17 June 2023

Cruel Summer had been a fan favourite from the get-go. When Taylor held listening parties for a select group of fans, it was the song that most people had positive feelings about. When Lover (the album) dropped in August 2019, it was the third most streamed track from the album, leapfrogging I Forgot That You Existed despite it being the second track. People started to lament the... poorly-received lead singles the album had. (I have nothing kind to say about those two tracks so I won't say anything.)

Then for a while, nothing happened. Taylor released Lover and The Man as singles to various degrees of success. The Man's disappointing (by her standards) chart run probably reignited discussion about how Cruel Summer would have smashed if it were only given a proper push and the GP had understood its talent. Then COVID came along, Lover Fest was delayed indefinitely, and it seemed that the Lover era was over, replaced by Taylor locking herself in with Joe Alwyn and drinking wine.

Then June 2020 came around, and...

Now how do we know that this is true? Apparently, Cruel Summer was added to AllAccess, a website where radio programmers download singles serviced to radio. While I can't verify this myself, I have seen numerous independent sources claim that Cruel Summer was uploaded to the site specifically on 17 June 2020. [2] Some radio website also ran with the story in early June, so I am inclined to believe this.

And it's not like there weren't any official hints...

Top to bottom: Spotify "enhanced album" promo mural, You Need To Calm Down music video, Amazon Music commercial, Lover music video [3]

The catch, however, is the Cruel Summer never got an official add date. An add date is "supposed to tell [radio] stations when to add a record to its playlist". Without an official add date, stations usually won't play your new song unless it's really hotly requested.

So the song didn't get a full label push and quickly died off, despite getting some radio play in 2020 (from anecdotal evidence), not appearing on the charts. And then in July folklore came out of the blue, and with it ended the Lover era, and seemingly all hopes for Cruel Summer world domination.

A music video?

While Taylor HQ is normally as hard to infiltrate as Fort Knox, over the years bits and pieces of information have leaked about her intentions for the rest of the Lover era. Chief among them was, apparently, to officially release Cruel Summer as a single to accompany her live shows in the summer of 2020. A music video was even filmed, before being scrapped when Taylor moved into the mythical forest of folklore.

-- Official Singles Chart (UK), 27 June 2023

Well, would Official Singles Chart lie? They do say "apparently" though, maybe to hedge their bets a little.

The problem with this claim, however, is the timeline. On 27 January 2020, Taylor released The Man as a single. She dropped the music video on Feburary 28th. Assuming a similar rollout for Cruel Summer, the music video would've come out in July. Given how the pandemic had basically put all possible filming activity to a standstill in March, it seems implausible that a music video would be filmed that early in advance, especially without knowing that the pandemic was on the horizon. Or maybe it was fully CGI and filmed in the luxury of her LA house, I don't know.

But I think there's a different catch here. Note how the above source claims that Cruel Summer would have been a single to "accompany her live shows in the summer of 2020", namely Lover Fest. According to the planned Lover Fest schedule, by the summer of 2020 she would be performing in Europe, including headlining Glastonbury.

Now consider Taylor's usual single rollout. Fearless, Sparks Fly, Red and New Romantics were all the last or second-last singles pushed from their respective albums, all of which got tour videos. [4] It seems that given how Cruel Summer would be the fifth single pushed according to the original plans, it most likely would've gotten the tour video treatment as well. Which makes sense: imagine a music video with her performing under broad daylight to huge crowds at festivals!

Cruel Summer 2: The Return of the Hit

With the advent of the pandemic something interesting happened: people started re-discovering old songs and making them into hits again. Catalogue streaming amounted to a whopping 70% of all streams in 2022. Running Up That Hill, a song from the 1980s, went viral again thanks to Stranger Things and this new ability that

Maybe it was because people wanted something familiar to go back to in a world where nothing was familiar anymore. Who knows. Many other music critics have written better articles about this phenomenon. What does matter, however, is that releasing singles from an album from years ago was now commercially viable. Sia, Lady Gaga and The Weeknd all did it to various degrees of success.

So when Cruel Summer, a song which had been among Taylor's most streamed songs for a while, acted as the tour opener on the Eras Tour [5], it would only further gain in popularity from then onwards, even re-entering the Billboard Hot 100 before it was even officially promoted to radio. And so her label moved to capitalize on this trend, and finally released Cruel Summer as a single on 20 June 2023, almost 3 years to the day after its original planned release date.

The million dollar question: would Cruel Summer have smashed if it was released as originally planned?

I'd say no. The general public had already moved on from Lover as the lacklustre The Man performance demonstrates. Besides, without the accumulation of popularity that Taylor had with folklore, evermore, the re-recordings, Midnights and the Eras Tour, who know where her career would've been?

(By the way, even if Cruel Summer had been the lead single there is absolutely no way it passes Old Town Road for #1.)

Timeline

Summer 2018: Cruel Summer is likely written around this time.

23 August 2019: Lover is released.

27 January 2020: The Man is released as a single.

27 February 2020: The Man music video is released.

5-12 March 2020: According to Steve from the IC, band rehearsals for Lover Fest took place during these days, with a whopping 32 songs.

19 March 2020: California enters lockdown due to COVID-19. Taylor was living in Los Angeles at this time.

17 April 2020: Lover Fest is officially delayed.

27 April 2020: Taylor writes cardigan, her first collaboration with Aaron Dessner and the beginning of the concept of folklore.

6 June 2020: Steve posts that cryptic message about folklore, signifying that the album was mostly complete by this time.

17 June 2020: Cruel Summer is uploaded to AllAccess, incidentally the same day as Steve teases cardigan.

20 June 2020: The European leg of Lover Fest would have begun on this day.

20 June 2023: Cruel Summer is officially released as a single.

23 October 2023: Cruel Summer hits #1 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Conclusion

Stream Cruel Summer.

[1] Cruel Summer is also the only Lover song to be registered on the US Copyright Office with a creation year of 2018, rather than 2019, suggesting that it was an early cut. (credit: @taylor-on-your-dash)

[2] Surprisingly, people have also claimed that I Did Something Bad was added to AllAccess in a similar fashion.

[3] That being said, if we take that hint in the Lover music video as hinting towards a Cruel Summer single push, this also means Afterglow was also meant to be a single...

[4] Do not quote me on this, Taylor herself didn't acknowledge that chorus of Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince either.

[5] Getaway Car should've been here...

#taylor swift #cruel summer #lover

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butterflyintochains · 4 months ago

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A Norris and A Masterton

Up for two prestigious NHL Awards, Kris and Erik come back together after a rough but historic season apart. Their plan well into motion now, if all goes their way, this should be the last NHL event they attend as opponents. The end of one era, perhaps twelve years too late. But, all going well, the ceremony in Nashville should mark the beginning of another. Twelve painful - but happy - years in the making.

They didn't get their usual All Star weekend together, but they're getting Awards Week together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Masterton, his third time being up for the comeback of the year award. Not quite the Norris or Hart, but it's an amazing accolade in and of itself. Kris quietly hopes he'll actually win this one, he will admit to few that he felt cheated about of the last two he was up for. It's been a long and difficult season, and he's glad it's over for now. He finds his hotel room in Nashville, and gets inside. Hoping a certain someone is already there waiting for him, but he's clearly not here yet. Kris hangs his suit bag up, and unpacks for the week while listening to some Pirates highlights. Once he's done with that, his phone finally rings, and a smile breaks out across his face. ''Hi, Erik. You here yet?''

Erik says. ''Got stuck in traffic, what room are you in, Kris?'' Kris looks on his room key. ''28, I'm in, just come up.''

Erik says, sounding excited. ''Will do, see you in a minute, I guess.'' Kris smiles, their first day together since his dad's funeral. ''See you in a minute, Erik.''

It isn't long until that knock on the door comes, there's a small flashback to that beautiful night in San Jose. Kris lets it all wash through him, and goes to get the door. Erik, a beaming smile on his gorgeous face, says. ''Miss me, sweetheart?''

Kris, grinning ear to ear, takes his partner's hand, and pulls him inside the room. ''Like you'd not believe, darling.'' Erik tosses his bags on the bed, and pulls Kris in for a passionate kiss. Their first in ages, even after all this time, that rush never wears off. The fact that they're the same height only makes it all so much better. Kris runs his fingers through Erik's shorter hair when they come up. Erik notices the furrowed brows instantly. ''Anything wrong, skatten mitt?'' He asks, his voice playful.

Kris narrows his eyes, and says. ''You cut your hair, mon coeur.'' Erik laughs, they've always liked each other's hair longer. For multiple reasons. ''I did, do you like it, sweetheart?''

Kris smirks, biting his lip. ''You know me, darling, I like a new challenge.'' Some may wonder when this fire they lit in Raleigh all those years ago will die down, when they become a relaxed older hockey couple. The answer for that is: never.

That evening, Erik unpacks, and they order dinner up to the room. Kris asks, once they've eaten. ''How far along are we on the plan?'' Erik pulls his phone out, and hands it over to his partner. ''Have a look.'' Kris looks at the texts between Grier, Erik, and his agent. All seems to be going well, it seems as though this might just go their way. ''Grier's gonna wave your no-move clause?''

Erik nods, taking his phone back. ''Yeah, as soon as free agency hits, I'll be pursuing a trade or move to you in Pittsburgh.'' All they've ever dreamed of, for twelve years, could be coming true this summer. Kris leans over to kiss Erik again. ''I love you so much, you know that, right?''

Erik tucks some hair back behind Kris' ear. ''I do, and I love you too, so much it hurts sometimes.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Media Day seems to go on forever, especially with them both up for awards this weekend. Erik getting endless questions about possibly beating two much younger players to the Norris at 33 years old, and Kris getting asked about how much getting this Masterton would mean to him after all he's been through. No one seems to know about the plan that's been in the works since last November. That this will be Erik's last Norris as a Shark, and that Kris will be sharing the Pittsburgh ice with someone at long last. Or that the Penguins are likely soon to have two power couples on their roster, after so long of just having the one. Some sick and twisted part of Kris halfway wonders how Sid and Geno will feel having some competition for best power couple on the team. Erik whispers in his ear, slipping his hand into Kris' during a moment where the Calder finalists are being interviewed. ''Alskad, I can feel you thinking, what's up?''

Kris mutters, squeezing his partner's hand. ''Just thinking about how Sid and Geno are gonna handle us next fall, amour, that's all.''

Erik chuckles, and says. ''I suppose we'll have to wait and see, won't we? Do you think they're ready for us?''

Kris says, after a moment to think. ''I don't entirely know, all I know so far is that I'm ready for us.''

Erik confesses, lightly kissing Kris' cheek while no one is paying attention to them. ''So am I.''

After the circus of media, they head back up to their room, Kris suddenly remembers something. He goes into his backpack, and fishes a team hoodie out of it. He always travels with one, so do the others, he holds it out to Erik. ''I couldn't smuggle a jersey out of the city, but I have this. Can you try it on for me, Erik?'' Erik gives him a charged look, clearly thinking this is some kind of roleplay thing he's asking for. ''Head out of the gutter, darling. I just wanna see how you look in black and gold.''

Erik nods, and blinks a few times to clear his head. ''Oh... okay, sweetheart, just... you had me going there.'' He takes the hoodie, and slips it on, not caring one iota that it's not his own team yet. He's been a Penguin-by-marriage for so long anyway. He looks himself over in the mirror, wondering how he ever pulled off the red and cyan when this was right in front of him. ''Well, what do you think, hjartat?'' Kris wraps his arms around Erik's waist from behind, and presses his lips to Erik's neck. ''Can't wait for your jersey, amour.''

Erik says, leaning himself into Kris. ''Neither can I.''

That night, they relax in bed together. The big day looming large tomorrow. ''Can't wait to see you with that Norris tomorrow, you know?'' Kris says. ''Fox and Makar are good, but you deserve it so much more. I'm biased as hell, but you just do.''

Erik gives his other half a sleepy smile. ''I'm glad you think so, mon coeur. For what it's worth, you're a shoe-in for the Masterton. And, I'll hear no one say otherwise.''

Kris utters, not wanting to tempt fate. ''Alskad...'' Erik cuts him off with a kiss. ''That includes you, Kris. Nobody could've survived what you've survived. Not even me.'' Kris is too tired to argue, so closes his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As predicted, the two best dressed defencemen in the league have pulled out all the stops to receive their awards tonight. Erik arrives in a lilac suit and black tie, bright and visible for the cameras. Kris has went above and beyond, arriving in a three piece tuxedo. They share a held gaze as they're shown to their seats. They'll not be sitting together. Perhaps that's for the best, Erik muses to himself as he takes his seat with the Sharks personnel one last time. Kris is a few rows behind, sat with the other Masterton nominees and winners.

After the usual fanfare, they announce first the winner of the Rocket - Connor McDavid. After his speech, they get to the Norris finalists. ''The James Norris Memorial Trophy goes to... Erik Karlsson.'' Erik goes up to receive the replica. Which will, hopefully, end up in Kris' house in Pittsburgh with the others soon. ''All this time, and I still get nervous up here. First, I'd like to thank the San Jose Sharks for taking a chance on me, and giving me four incredible seasons in California. I'd also like to thank the Ottawa Senators, without them I'd not be here at all.'' He pauses to gather himself. ''All the credit to Cale and Adam for their seasons, and keeping me on my toes at 33, I need that.'' That gets a good laugh. ''Danny and Jason - thank you for helping me up in this sport. And, my family in Vetlanda for the love and support.'' Erik looks to Kris, they somehow always find each other. ''Finally, I'll not name names, but je t'aime toujours, mon coeur, tu m'inspires.'' The crowd gasps at Erik's effortless command of french. They'll never know why he knows it, that's between him and Kris. ''Thank you.'' He proudly returns to his seat.

After the Art Ross is given out, PO and two others take to the stage to plead the cases of the three Masterton finalists. PO telling the story of Kris' second stroke, foot injury, and losing his father. Relaying the impact Kris has had on him and the team at large. Kris dries his eyes. ''The Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy goes to... Kris Letang.'' Kris takes a deep breath, and goes up on stage. He holds the replica in his hands. ''Gonna admit, I always wanted to be up here, but never thought it'd be with this one - because it means something bad happened.'' Kris carries on his speech. ''Firstly, I'd like to congratulate Clayton and Anthony for their comebacks, we play a hard game, but we still stand here. UPMC and Jon Chaimberg, for helping me get back here after the pain of it all.'' Kris takes a moment. ''My family back home in Montreal, this is our award. Sid, Geno, and Flower - I love you dearly, and wish they were here tonight.'' He takes a second to compose himself. ''I'd also like to thank Mario and the Penguins - you took a gamble on a third round pick, for which I am forever grateful.'' Kris finds Erik, and says to him. ''Finally, before I cry up here. Jag alskar dig av hela mitt hjarta, alskad mitt. You know who you are.'' He finishes his speech. ''Thank you!''

After press and photos, there's a little gathering for the award winners. Erik and Kris are content to let the press speculate about why a Swede speaks fluent French, and a French-Canadian speaks Swedish like he was born there. They don't get that story yet, Sid and Geno get it first. ''I told you, Linus, I'm not telling anyone why I speak Swedish yet.'' Kris says.

Linus runs his thumb over the Vezina. ''That's fine. I just find it impressive, learning a whole new language on top of leading your team's defence, the PA, and those three cups.''

McDavid adds, joining their little chat. ''Not to mention the health issues you've had! Where have you found the time?''

Kris chuckles, still cradling the replica Masterton. ''You make the time, Connor. You ever thought about picking up a language?'' Connor thinks for a second. ''German would be nice, for Leon, y'know?'' Kris nods, spotting that look in his eyes that he and Erik get sometimes. The worst kept secret since Sid and Geno, clearly. Erik joins them, Patrice not far behind. ''You wanna learn German, Davo?'' Patrice asks.

Connor nods. ''Yeah, Erik's french and Kris' swedish have kinda inspired me, y'know?''

Linus asks. ''Think I could convince Sway to let me teach him Swedish, Karl?''

Erik laughs. ''I think so, he'd do anything for you, so, you'd not have much convincing to do.''

After a while, Kris and Erik head back to the hotel. Heads aching from the noise tonight. They ready themselves for bed, their trophies on the coffee table. Erik has to admit, those trophies look as good together as their winners do. ''Can't believe I actually got that, you know?'' Kris says, getting into bed.

Erik says, it's never exactly landed with him how underrated his partner is in this league. What with Sid's accolades, Geno's awards, Flower's Vezina, and his now three Norrises. ''You've earned this, sweetheart, and so much more. And, I've never been prouder of you.'' Kris leans over to kiss his cheek. ''I'm proud of you too, darling, we both know how hard being in our position is, especially in our thirties.''

Erik asks, tracing his beloved's tattoos. ''How do you think they'll look in our home?''

Kris' eyes gloss over, he smiles brightly. ''I think they'll look pretty good. God, our home, I can't wait already.'' Erik laughs, any other season he'd not want to get their hopes up. But, he feels as if this might just happen at last. ''Me neither, I mean, we've been wanting this for ages. I think it might just happen.''

Before they fall asleep, Kris asks. ''Is there anything you need from me on my end?'' Erik yawns, trying to think of anything Kris can do that isn't too stressful. ''Aside from the house, maybe put a word in your management's ear about me? Everything else is on my end.'' Erik is dead set on not having them in this holding pattern for too long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They decide to spend a couple of days in Nashville, even after everyone is gone. If this is going to be their last NHL event as opponents, they might as well get as much out of it as possible. Kris has his Masterton on the coffee table still, sitting side by side with Erik's Norris. They are pristine silver, and look so good together. It hits him, in seven weeks, they could both be Penguins at last. They've left the press with quite a story, at any rate, speaking each other's languages in their speeches. ''Wonder how the media will take you speaking french all of a sudden.'' Kris says, reading a book Sid gifted him for his birthday. Erik looks up from his phone, a cheeky grin on his face. ''They'll probably hound Danny first, then Jason, and drive themselves nuts when they don't get anything. How about you speaking swedish?''

Kris chuckles, taking a mouthful of his smoothie. ''I'm sure our media has already called Horny and Hags. Good luck to them, I told Horny not to tell anyone.''

Erik says, seeming proud of them for causing some chaos this week. ''Wouldn't be us without some chaos, would it, hjartat?'' Kris shakes his head, lacing his fingers with Erik's. ''No, amour, it wouldn't be.'' Good to know that's not changed at least. It's gonna be fun having someone to annoy Sid and Geno with next season, it's been way too long. ''Which of the Two Headed Monster will Sully put me with?'' Erik asks.

Kris doesn't need to think, he says. ''Geno. You'd do well together.'' Kris also says, seventeen years means too much to him. ''I'd hate to leave Sid, it's just... how things are with us.''

Erik says, completely understanding ''I'd hate to take him away from you, the numbers you've put up together speak for themselves.'' Kris nods, and returns to his book. It might be premature, these conversations about what the team will look like with the four of them on it, especially after Flower left. But, there's something in the air that tells Kris that this is the one time this plan works out properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They pack up the following morning, they'll not be going to Sweden or Montreal together this summer, there's too much work to do. Erik has a team to leave, and Kris has to somehow get his house ready without alerting any of the boys as to why, and get his team to ask for Erik in the first place. Some part of Erik is pissed that they won't get their usual summer together, but, if all goes to plan, they'll be getting way more than just summers together for the rest of their careers. So, it all balances out. They pack their trophies into the cases they were given. And, that's the last of it. Their flights are in a couple of hours. ''I guess we'll be Penguins next time we see each other.'' Kris says, taking Erik's hands in his.

Erik smiles, and nods. ''Yeah, if all goes well, I should be in Pittsburgh by early August.''

Kris says, the possibility of all they've ever wanted not happening still being too big for his liking. ''That's still a long time, darling.'' Erik runs his hand through Kris' hair, which he so wishes was longer. ''I know, sweetheart, but, I'm optimistic about this, aren't you?''

Kris takes a deep breath in, inhaling the doubts they've had over the years, and lets them go on the exhale. ''Yeah, so am I.'' Erik kisses him, a promise lingering in it. ''Good, I'll keep you informed about everything. I hope my 65 is available.''

Kris kisses Erik, wanting to savour the time they've got left together. Something Sid and Geno will never fully understand. ''It is, and it's waiting for you, so am I.''

Erik promises him again. ''I'll not make you wait long, trust me.'' Kris nods, and says. ''I trust you.''

They leave for their flights, hopefully flying home apart for the final time. Erik to San Jose, Kris to Pittsburgh. One going west, the other going north.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn't take long for the news of Erik hitting the free agent market to spread like wildfire. Sid and Geno constantly texting in the leadership group chat, practically foaming at their mouths about the possibility of Erik coming east. Kris has to rein himself in, the plan has only just begun. His end is done, now Kyle has to get the rest done. In the meantime, Kris is getting the house ready for Erik moving in, he's put the idea to Kyle already. One evening, he gets a call from Erik. ''Bonjour, mon amour.'' He says.

Erik laughs. ''Hej, hjartat mitt. I think I made off with that hoodie you had me try on.''

Kris shrugs, they've always shared clothes. ''That's fine, I've got loads of them. How's it all going out west?''

Erik says. ''Good, my contract is done now, Grier has given me the permission to talk to other teams. I'm just waiting on Kyle's offer, then, we're good.''

Kris downs some water, and informs him. ''He said he's working on a contract for you, I'm surprised he's not wondering why I want you here so badly.''

Erik asks, a lightness to his voice. ''What about our forwards? Are Sid and Geno talking to you at all about this?'' Kris laughs, if only Erik could see into their group chat right now. ''They're convinced you're coming here, if only they knew how long we've been planning this.'' Erik also laughs. ''They'd freak out!''

After their call, Kris gets an idea. He finds his most recent jersey, from his 1000th game, framed in his office. He shakes his head, and moves it to above his side of the bed. Erik's will go next to it, 58 and 65 will hang side by side. Just as their Norris and Masterton will be displayed. Then, hopefully, their cup rings. If Sid and Geno could do it, why not him and Erik? Kris wants to tell himself not to think too far into the future, not to get his hopes up. But, they're so close, so... fuck it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The offer sheet sits on Erik's coffee table. Signed by Kyle Dubas, co-signed by Jason Spezza and his agent. He specifically told his agent not to even entertain offers from any other team. Sure, Toronto have Matthews and Marner. Carolina have a good team. Sure, he was a senator once upon a time. But, the Penguins have Kris, and that's all he needs, before even a cup enters his mind. The contract is good, he'll retire with the man he loves, get his number, and minutes second only to Kris himself. So, in the easiest decision he's ever made, he signs it. It's not the binding contract, not yet, but it's enough for now. ''I've signed the offer sheet, Kris.'' He says on the phone that next morning.

Kris is silent for a few moments, but says. ''Really?'' Erik confirms, he'll not be going to Pittsburgh for a couple of weeks yet. ''Yeah, yesterday evening. I'll need a few weeks to sort things out here, but I'll be in Pittsburgh soon.''

Kris sounds overwhelmed. ''God... this is actually happening. We're really doing this.''

Erik says, relieved more than anything. ''This is actually happening. We're almost there, after twelve years, we're just about there.'' Kris asks, seeming to need a few moments to process it all. ''Were there other teams?''

Erik says, because he'd never lie to Kris. ''Three: Toronto, Ottawa, and, you're never gonna believe this... Carolina.'' Kris laughs softly, of course the city where this all began for them came knocking. ''Typical.''

Erik nods, smiling to himself while looking at his three Norrises, soon to be displayed with a Masterton. ''Yeah, if only they knew what we got up to that weekend.''

Kris adds, sounding altogether too proud of himself. ''And: in Ottawa, Nashville - twice now, and San Jose.'' They don't talk about Tampa, that weekend of their five All Star breaks doesn't deserve talking about. ''Anyway, shouldn't be much longer. I'll see you in a few weeks. I love you, Kris.''

Kris says, sniffling from his end. ''I'll see you soon. I love you too, Erik.''

Three more weeks, and then this long distance thing finally comes to its end. Perhaps twelve years too late, who knows? But, they don't particularly care. It's ending, and they'll likely retire together now. It's been a long time, but Pittsburgh are about to have a quartet again. Two married forwards, and two married defencemen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God, I've missed writing for my guys! Best With Three has consumed this past week for me, but I've missed these two and their little marriage so much! In my head, the NHL Awards in 2023 coincides with Kris and Erik's plans to get Erik over to Pittsburgh so they can finally start playing together. They definitely had Erik's trade planned, and Kris absolutely does not miss the teammates he lost in it. That summer was 100% just about getting them both on the same team after over a decade.

Also, the english petnames are finally appearing! Kris calls Erik 'Darling', and Erik calls Kris 'Sweetheart' whenever they use english for their petnames.

Anyway, enjoy!

#tangerkarlsson

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beardedmrbean · 1 month ago

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PITTSBURGH — On the first anniversary of the Oct. 7 Hamas massacre, Pittsburgh’s Jewish community mourned the victims. Their politicians were busy mourning the Palestinians — and blaming Israel for the terrorist attack.

Rep. Summer Lee, Mayor Ed Gainey and Allegheny County Executive Sara Innamorato issued a joint Twitter statement saying they have “hearts big enough to grieve those killed one year ago and those massacred in the year since.”

“Our grief is compounded by the fact that it didn’t have to be this way,” they went on. “This violence did not start on October 7.”

Pittsburgh’s Jewish leaders read the statement loud and clear.

“This warped and deliberate weaponization of language can only be interpreted as a way to undermine the Israeli and Jewish victims of October 7,” the Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh responded, adding the pols “place the blame on the victims of October 7: Israel and its people.”

“It displays a stunning lack of sensitivity that veers into antisemitic territory,” Rabbi Seth Adelson of Beth Shalom Synagogue told The Post. “I’m just baffled that they thought on this day that could have been received well.”

Adelson admitted his mind was elsewhere: His son Oryah Meidan had just deployed to northern Israel to fight Hezbollah in a war that began with another terrorist group on Israel’s southern border.

One year ago, Hamas terrorists murdered, raped, beheaded and kidnapped more than 1,400 people, including more than 40 Americans. Hamas is still holding 97 people hostage.

But Pittsburgh’s political leaders did not mention Hamas, nor “that Israel is fighting a just war for her survival,” Adelson said while gripping his guitar, which he had just played for an audience of more than 1,200 people.

He was one of a group of performers in a series of songs, prayers and stories to commemorate Oct 7. victims at a Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh event, which ended with a prayer for Israel, its national anthem, “Hatikvah,” and “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

“They seemed to be signaling to political allies, and those are not the majority of their Jewish constituents,” Adelson said of Pittsburgh’s pols.

In a letter shared with The Post, Rabbi Aaron Meyer of Temple Emanuel begged his elected officials “to reconsider and remove this hurtful, hateful statement.”

But others suggest Pittsburgh remove these leaders entirely.

“On one thing we can agree: we are looking for elected officials who find the courage to lead with empathy. We need leaders who can find empathy for Jewish and Israeli victims of terror,” the Jewish Federation of Pittsburgh finished.

One of those elected officials, Lee, is up for reelection in November. Surviving a pro-Israel primary challenger, the Democrat is up against Republican James Hayes.

The Squad member pushed for a cease-fire just weeks after Oct. 7, when Hamas committed the deadliest attack against Jews since the Holocaust. She’s called for an arms embargo against Israel and accused the Jewish state of committing genocide.

More than 40 of Pittsburgh’s Jewish leaders this spring denounced Lee for her anti-Israel rhetoric and taking money from people who celebrated the Oct. 7 attacks.

Though Jeff Finkelstein, Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh CEO, commended Democratic Sen. Bob Casey for his support of Israel on Oct. 7, Republican Senate candidate Dave McCormick has tied Casey to Lee for not retracting his endorsement of the freshman congresswoman.

“I am definitely aware of people in the community who are considering voting Republican for the first time in their lives,” Adelson noted.

#nunyas news #no it didn't start on oct 7 #it started in the 7th century

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the-slapshot-series · 1 year ago

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Welcome to the Slapshot Series!

Enter below ⬇️

To get you started here is how this series works. Each story is interconnected through the casts, knowing each other in some way, shape or form. Each book can be read as a stand alone, but after book 1, there will be spoilers through each book that will point to a chapter or event that had happened in a previous book. This won't affect the outcome of you reading the story you picked, but reading in order will help you understand some things within the story. (but the path you choose is totally up to you! Don't feel obligated to read about a player you don't like.) Below is the books in order of how I would read them based on the events that happen within each story. Main blog Masterlist

*** Loosely based around the song "God Made Airplanes" by Jason Aldean. Set in 2021***

Tyler Seguin thought he found the woman of his dreams. A perfect girl, a perfect engagement and the soon to be perfect wedding, he had everything down to a T. Or so he thought. Just a few short weeks before what was supposed to be the most perfect day of his life, turned into him booking a one way flight to Pittsburgh to spend the summer with his Best Friend and forget about his cheating ex fiancee. Wanting to shut out the world, his parents and most of his friends for the time being, Tyler find refuge with the only person who really seems to know the real him, Arabella Kerfoot, who plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins. While spending his summer hiding away, his best friend not so sneakily plays match maker with her childhood best friend, Quinn Canton. Sparks soon begin to fly, and a whirlwind summer romance takes hold of these two burnt out hearts. But when hockey starts back up, and old partners come back to burn them to ashes, can they withstand the distance between them, or will it be to much for them to handle?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Arabella Kerfoot is the younger sister of Alex Kerfoot and she one of the only female hockey player in the league. Ella as she likes to go by is the wild child of the family and also of the Pittsburgh Penguins. With a reputation of the "Wild Cinderella" Ella is the media's #1 target. Her best friend is Tyler Seguin, who had a bad reputation in Boston before going to Texas, so he understands her better then her own family and is trying to help work through her rebellious reputation. After a wild and not so pretty night out on the town Ella is quickly not the favorite anymore in Pitt and is soon traded to Toronto who is looking for a power forward with the speed and risky skill set she brings to the table. The catch: they need to fix her tarnished reputation before the Toronto media tears her apart. The solution: have her fake a relationship with Morgan Rielly to show she is determined to settle down and leave her wild Cinderella life behind, and make a fairytale lifestyle in Toronto instead. Only Ella wasn't planning on falling for the red haired man who offered the solution to her problems. With the media and her brother breathing down her neck to fix her past, her best friend telling her that a fake relationship will only hurt her and the man she never new she needed in front of her, she is about to ether live out a Hockey-Ella fairytale or an ultimate disaster.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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not-that-dillinger · 7 months ago

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CHANGED for a scene from my muse's past that represented a turning point in their life

It's early in the evening, and the weather was cool for January in Los Angeles, though it feelt more like summer compared to the weather he became used to in Pittsburgh. Christmas break is quickly coming to an end, and though Ed still dreaded the cold and the snow, he couldn't wait to go back to school and be away from home and his father again. If his father's mansion of a house could ever be considered a home when Pittsburgh at it's coldest was warmer than the oppressive walls of his father's house.

Ed wasn't even sure why his father demanded he return every year for the holiday season. They didn't celebrate Christmas like his Grandparents had taken to doing, and it's been even longer since the Dillingers celebrated Chanukah, sans the few years his mother did. The only possible reason for Ed's return was to keep up appearances of that perfect family that they had never truly been.

Ed looked up from the code he'd been tracing in an attempt to debug, and across the living room to where his father was sitting in his polished black leather armchair, reading a report for his company.

"Father." Slowly, gently, Ed closed his laptop and gripped the edges of the machine so he wouldn't dig his nails into the fancy leather couch he was sitting on. He'd put off this conversation as long as he could, but unless he wanted to have it over the phone when he was back in Pittsburgh, now was his last chance.

Having this particular conversation over the phone when they two thousand miles apart would have been the smart thing to do, if it didn't feel like the coward's way out.

For a brief moment, there was stillness, and Ed hoped his father hadn't heard him.

His father looked up from the report, and across the expanse of the living room that seemed to dwarf both men to Ed.

Ed licked his dry lips, and took a sip of his sleepytime tea. It was the cheap kind bought at the grocery store and squashed into his suitcase. He didn't dare bring his usual stash of better tea, in the event that his father decided to throw it out.

"What do you want?" His father asked, becoming impatient at the interruption.

"There is something I must tell you." It took all of Ed's acting training to keep his voice clear and not to mumble. He gripped the edges of his computer, nails scratching against the metallic casing.

His father was silent, though from the look he was giving him, Ed knew if he didn't get on with it quickly, he would only irritate his father further.

"I applied an internship with Encom in October," he said.

His father raised an eyebrow.

"I had an interview for it in November, over the break. They offered me the internship, and I accepted."

Ed's father eyed him silently, and Ed sat perfectly still, hyper aware of every muscle in his body coiled with tension, and focusing on not fidgeting with his glasses.

"I see," his father said.

Ed waited. He knew there would be no congratulations, not when he applied to his father's company's largest competitor.

"You want the stipend I offered in compensation for... your services." Of course, Ed knew his father employed corporate spies to keep tabs on all of fCon's competitors, which was why he had to have this conversation with his father at all.

"No."

"You want more?" His father asked. "Surely you don't think they'll trust an intern with any sensitive data?"

"No."

"Then--"

"I am telling you so you understand why I refuse to tell you what I am working on this summer. And as a courtesy so you won't be surprised when your spy reports back to you that I am working there, and as a warning that I will report him if I discover who your spy is."

Ed's father eyed him, a slight frown on his face, and Ed held still. He didn't dare twitch a muscle, despite wanting to hug his laptop to his chest.

"So this is how you choose to repay me," his father said. "I put a roof over your head, put clothes on your back, I payed for your education, and you repay me with betrayal?"

"I--"

"--You are a worthless waste of resources," his father snarled. He stood up, and crossed the living room toward Ed.

Ed hugged his computer to his chest, putting his feet on the couch and curling protectively around it.

The older Dillinger picked up Ed's notebook, and tore out the first sheet, then the next, and the next. Ed didn't dare move, didn't dare dare protest as he watched his father tear out every page of the notebook. When there was nothing left but the covers, he took the stack of pages, and ripped them in half. He ripped the halves in half, over and over, and over until they were surrounded by shreds of paper no bigger than the size of Ed's pinky nail.

Finally, Ed's father picked up Ed's mug, and retreated to the kitchen. He made a show of pouring the the tea down the sink. "For the summer only," he said. "Next year, I will send you an application for a position at fCon. You will apply, and you will accept whatever offer you are given. Understood?"

"Yes, father," Ed responded mechanically, his voice cold and devoid of feeling.

"Good. Now go to bed. Peter will be here to take you to the airport in the morning."

"Yes father." Just as mechanically, Ed stood up, and climbed the stairs to his room.

It would be a long time before he actually slept if he wanted to catch up on his work.

#the void screams back #thanks for the ask!#the-expatriate #edcanons

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