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When #myshane retires, he doesn’t go into coaching or podcasting or whatever.
He becomes a consultant who shitty teams trying to not suck, good teams who want to last further into the playoffs, great teams who want to finally win the cup, call to Fix Them.
He is paid absolutely bonkers amounts of money to watch a team play for five minutes and immediately diagnose what’s wrong with them. He is always right.
Ok 5 minutes is probably an exaggeration. The coaches send him a bunch of tape to review in advance. They probably focus on their best players or the ones they think need the most improvement, but half the time Shane requests more, focusing on players they hadn’t paid much attention to before. Then one day at practice, the players look up into the stands and are filled with awe, terror, and wonder, because Shane Hollander is sitting there staring directly at them with a scarily thoughtful look on his face.
He meets with the coaches and gm and reports his conclusions. Who to trade and for who , how to get better results from certain players, how to run power plays and penalty kills, changes in line makeups.
Some lucky players get to meet with him. He takes about five minutes to list off or demonstrate everything they need to do to stop sucking. He has no time for chit chat or hero worship. Focus, listen, learn, and do exactly what he says and you will be good. Fail to do what he says and you will shame your entire bloodline.
I think that, if he’s not the one actually playing, this would be a dream job. It involves Knowing Things About Hockey, Judging Shitty Hockey Players, Getting Recognized As The Best at Hockey, Being Correct, and Making Hockey Better. He should get to do all these things
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anyway back to this blog’s actual purpose. Ilya would love to find any way to say ‘six seven’ at their hockey camp & get every child around him chanting SIX SEVEN SIX SEVEN
I wanted to give Harrison Browne his flowers in what little way I could so here’s this quick portrait. What an inspirational human being. (And the only pro hockey player on the damn show.)
Best of luck in all of your endeavors. I hope Connors got his room service.
So one year for charity different pro athletes get asked to participate in a live game based on one of those “how well do you know your partner” games but instead it’s “how well do you know your rival” and participating means you get to raise money for a charity of your choice and obviously Shane and Ilya want to promote the Irina Project so they agree and go up against other current famous rivals from other sports
And Shane and Ilya discuss ahead of time that obviously they’ll have to just play things off as they usually do, light hearted chirps back and forth and what not, “winning” is just for the show and won’t impact how much money gets made for their charity so it doesn’t matter. Except then they get there and become overtaken by the need to Win and Be the Best and they are the best. So without needing to discuss changing the plan, as soon as the questions start they lock in and decide that actually they have to demolish everyone else
The other rivals are laughing and making jokes at the questions but Shane and Ilya are deadly serious and the host starts to get a little weirded out by the fact that they actually know the answers and aren’t just saying things like “how many goals last season? Probably one less than me haha” and actually have each others stats memorized
Because the audience is loving it they go to a lightning round that’s just Shane and Ilya and it’s now the usual couple game questions and they’re still getting them right because they can make excuses for knowing later, right now is about Winning
“What is Shane’s favorite breakfast?”
“Kale protein shake with a scoop of peanut butter and a handful of blueberries.”
“Ok um, what is Ilya’s favorite breakfast?”
“Two sausage egg McMuffins with an extra slice of cheese and hashbrowns.”
“What is something on Shane’s bucket list?”
“Sleeping in one of those see through igloos under the northern lights.”
“What is something on Ilya’s bucket list?”
“That thing where you feed giraffes at a zoo.”
“Ok last one. I think we all know Shane’s answer is former paramour Rose Landry, but who do you think is the most famous person Rozanov has ever slept with is?”
*through teeth gritted so tight he is in danger of chipping one* “Probably a model. Or something.”
“… Yeah, let’s go with that.”
Years later when they’re out Shane reshares the clip and the only non-PR approved thing he says on the matter is “It was me, by the way. I am the most famous person Rozanov has ever slept with.”
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oh I'm ilya rozanov and I'm so tragic and I thought I'd die young wrapping my Porsche around a dunkin donuts drive thru but now I'm sucking the fingers of the most beautiful man on earth in his beautiful lakeside cottage while it rains outside.and I'm in it raw btw. KILL YOURSELF
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Ilya is four and fat-handed. His mama holds a white puff of nature in front of his face and says “Blow it, Ilyushka. Make a wish.”
He knows this - from bubbles and birthdays. Knows how to fill his round cheeks with air, to spit it all out again. He watches in wonder, as a million little feathery things float through the air. They catch in his mama’s golden hair.
“What did you wish for, my love?”
-
Ilya is eight and flowers are for girls, but Sveta insists on weaving sunny dandelions through his curls.
“My father will kill us, if he sees.”
“So we won't let him see us. Besides, it will make your mama smile.”
Ilya misses that smile. It’s been hiding all winter from him.
-
Ilya is twelve and there’s been a terrible accident.
His mama has left without saying goodbye, and his father won’t speak to him and Alexei won’t leave his room but Ilya could swear he hears the loud of sobbing beneath thick, angry music.
His mama left and a strange, somber man is in his mama’s kitchen asking, “Have you thought about flowers?”
His father says, “I don’t know, what’s usual? She liked red, pink.”
Ilya interrupts. “Her favourite is dandelions.”
The room chills and turns against him.
“Dandelions are weeds.”
-
Ilya is nineteen, he lives in America now. In Boston. The birds are different and the trees are different, but hockey is the same.
And spring arrives like it always does, with sun and sunny yellow flowers. He almost picks one, then doesn’t. Who could he give flowers to? No one here. No one alive.
-
Ilya is twenty five. Tomorrow he will fly home from Russia for the last time.
Today he is visiting his mama’s grave with a fistfull of dandelions plucked out of the grass. In his mind, he tells her about the boy with brown eyes and freckles and a mean backhand. The flowers are too yellow, but he still closes his eyes. He still makes a wish
-
Ilya is twenty eight, it’s his first spring in Ottawa.
Fluffy white puffs of dandelion dot his back lawn. Shane’s strong hands run softly through his hair.
Two birds sing a duet in the trees.
“I never understood it,” Shane starts, his voice less songlike; more comforting.
“You don’t speak bird anymore?” Ilya asks without bite.
“No.” Shane messes up his hair, and smoothes it back down again. “I never understood why dandelions aren’t allowed to be flowers.”
Inventing my own hollanov post-retirement au where they have a hockeydaughter who is like. really good. like maybeprobablydefinitely on level with them if not better and she’s getting interviewed after one of her 1st professional games and gets asked if she got into hockey because she wants to have a hockey career like her dads and she’s like ‘uh no. I didn’t want to be some boring old men. i wanted to be Marie-Philip Poulin’
Leave Me Alone… @compatiblehollanov - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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