Kei's Korner

“the name on the front of your jersey is a hell of a lot more important than the name on the back.”

and here he is whining about the puck and how he thinks it’s “bullshit” that the hall of fame has it. bc that’s gonna go over real well if you want to be in the hall of fame one day…

As far as I can tell, even Gretzky, who's now known to be a MAGA asshole, never had the audacity to say something like this.

I have been a fan of hockey for as long as I can remember. Hockey has been my comfort place for so long. Some of my happiest memories are of turning on the TV and watching spectacular saves, gorgeous goals, and fierce fights. Celebrating something that connected me to Canada. But not now.

Today made it very clear that I am not welcome. Not only that I am not welcome, but that I was never welcome to begin with. That those of us who are not wealthy, conservative, white men, never have been welcome.

Seeing these so-called men laugh at the mention of their equivalent women’s team. Equivalent women’s team, that completely dominated their competition. Put on a clinic all tournament. And yet these so-called men laugh at them as if they are inferior, as if they don’t deserve half the recognition that the men will get just for being men.

These little boys, smiling like idiots when an actual fascist calls, inviting them to the White House. Giggling like it’s Christmas. Cheering on the FBI chief, who spent citizens’ tax dollars to go there and avoid doing his job when there is a major case on his watch. And the women’s team was coached by the mother of two of these little boys. Way to disrespect the one person you wouldn’t be here without.

What message is this sending to the people who aren’t the target demographic? All these newcomers. If the intent is to “grow the game,” then what is the point in pandering to one target demographic… wealthy conservative males who believe that no one but them is welcome? You can’t grow the game and support people gatekeeping the rights of the very people who would help grow the game.

“Hockey is for everyone” my ass.

I’ll say it again – I am a proud Chinese Canadian woman, and I stand for the equal rights of everyone. And if that makes me unwelcome in the hockey fanbase… then as much as it stings, I’ll go find a place where I am welcome.

I said at the end of this post that I was going to look for a place where I was welcome, and that I felt unwelcome in the hockey fanbase.

This last week has made me realize that those of us who no longer feel welcome have, by standing together and speaking out, made each other feel welcome and safe.

Amidst all the anger, frustration and sadness, the fury in the face of injustice and continued misogyny, as we’ve watched the MAGA movement attempt to hijack the sport we love so dearly, I have never seen so much solidarity. Those of us who MAGA wants to push aside, are standing together, screaming out, and not backing down. We’ve made our voices heard - clearly SNL saw the online discourse and threw in the jabs at the men as a way to “address” us.

I’ve seen a new revival, I’ve made new friendships and connections here. I’ve seen more talk about the PWHL in the last week than I have in the last two years. We’re making lemonade out of (very sour) lemons.

So yes, there is a place in the hockey fandom where we are welcome - because we created it.

We’re not gonna let them take hockey away from us. We won’t let them win.

pairing: carlos sainz × fem!reader.

summary: your husband carlos is braiding your daughter's hair when she comes up with a wonderful idea, turning her dad handsome by giving him a makeover.

wordcount: 1.2k.

an: this is everything cute and soft. crack, fluff, slightly suggestive. its just a little something. please let me know if you guys would like more of this type of content!

you're sitting on your couch, sipping on some water after an exhausting day when you hear giggles from your daughter's room. you walk in, finding your husband sitting on a ridiculously small chair for his size, braiding your daughter's hair. the room is warm, it smells like cookies and glue.

your husband glances up at you, giving you a wink. you simply roll your eyes, a small smile on your face as you move to take a seat on the bed. he looked so good, so freaking cute the way he has his soft hair falling on his face as he gently braids your daughter's hair. your daughter is all giggly, can barely sit still. you give her a smile, "what's got you giggling, my love?"

"mamá, daddy is so handsome, right?" her small body shakes as she tries to control her laughter. she looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer, her brown eyes, just like her dad's, shine softly under the warm yellow light emerging from the lampstand. you nod softly, "he is."

carlos finishes braiding her, picking her up from the floor, she now sits perfectly on his lap, his arms gently wrapped around her, "why the sudden flattery?" he questions. he loves it, you know he loves it. he has that smug look on his face.

"i think...we can make you so much more handsome!" your daughter exclaims, turning around in his lap to face him. she glances up at you sitting on the bed, she gives you a wide smile, "mamá, can i please borrow your makeup?"

you gasp dramatically, now crouching down on the floor, giving your daughter a mischievous look, "are you thinking what i'm thinking?" she nods enthusiastically, looking up at her dad, who looks absolutely clueless as to what's coming for him. you simply give your husband loving pats on his back, dropping a soft kiss on his cheek.

he narrows his eyes as you walk away to retrieve your makeup bag, calling out after you, "oi! what are you two talking about?"

he looks down at his adorable daughter grinning up at him, her small hands resting on his chest, "what are you and mamá planning, hm?" he pretends to glare at her, making his voice deeper to intimidate her. but your daughter knows better, she's used to his tactics. he could never intimidate her, she's just so fully, wholly safe in his arms. she simply shrugs.

when you walk back into the room, carlos has your daughter laughing loudly, his tickles making her cackle so adorably. you set your makeup bag down, sitting on the floor beside the stupidly small chair that your husband has occupied. finally, daddy's girl stops laughing and wiggles away from his arms, "daddy, we're gonna make you so handsome!"

your husband gives you a horrified look, finally understanding what's about to happen to him, "uhm.. we just established the fact that i'm handsome already, no?" he tries to escape. your daughter shakes her head, grabbing a bright red lipstick from the bag, moving towards him, "but, we need to make you pretty now, like mamá, you know when she wears it, she looks sooooo nice."

he glances up at you, his eyes dropping to your lips. lips that he's kissed a million times, lips that he wants to kiss forever, lips that look so good wrapped around his- okay. no. he needs to stop. he clears his throat, looking at his daughter again, "she does, doesn't she?"

you shake your head, knowing exactly where your husband's mind is at. your daughter draws lines on his cheek using the lipstick. she smears it, her face glowing as she works her magic on him. she beckons you over, insisting she needs an assistant to help her with her project. you grab your eyeshadow palette, taking the liberty to glitter and glam him. you swipe a silver eyeshadow on the top of his eyelids, your daughter reprimanding him every two seconds, "daddy, you cannot move", "daddy, you can't open your eyes!", "stop breathing so loud!"

one of his eyes crack open at the last one, he looks at you, "i swear she gets that from you. you need to stop saying that to me when you're on your periods." he teases. you simply smack his arm playfully, "mr sainz, you need to keep your eyes closed."

when you and your daughter finish your awesome pawesome work, like your daughter calls it, you take a step back, admiring your work, barely holding back laughter that bubbles at the back of your throat. carlos moves suspiciously towards the mirror, letting out a strangled noise when he glances at the reflection of himself in the mirror.

your daughter sways left to right, her hands behind her back, a contagious smile on her face, "so pretty, daddy!" your husband simply turns around, inching towards you and your baby slowly, "yeah? we should share this look then" that makes both you and your daughter immediately turn around, sprinting out of the room.

your husband looked...interesting! he had silver eyeshadow on one eye, purple on the other, his cheeks were so red you'd think he dipped in passata. his lips were painted a deep maroon, and your daughter's absolutely amazing eyeliner work ended on his sidelocks, because that's how long they were.

he chased you around the living room, catching your daughter first, hauling her up in his arms as he ran after you, you shriek and yell finally stopping in the kitchen, the counter now separating you two. you shake your head, glaring at him playfully, "baby, don't even think."

he simply gives you that beautiful smile of his, climbing the counter to get to you, your daughter laughing in his arms. you try to run again when a strong arm pulls you back, and you land straight on his chest. first, he gently brushes his cheek with his daughter, spreading the makeup all over her. then he looks at you, kissing you all over your face, leaving maroon marks. "ewwww, daddy!" your daughter screeches, wriggling out of his arms, moving towards her bedroom claiming how makeup must be taken off before bed.

your husband now completely wraps his arms around you, squeezing your hips. you look up at him, biting your lip to contain a smile, "you look real sexy" you tease. he cocks an eyebrow, his face dipping down to kiss your neck, his favourite spot. "do i?"

you groan, whining as he smears the makeup all over you, "carlos! stop!" he leans back just to look at you, his lips twitching into a smile as he bites your cheek playfully, "i swear only this morning it was 'carlos, don't stop, please don't stop""

your face heats up, you smack his chest, "those were under different circumstances."

he groans, murmuring a 'whatever' as he easily picks you up, one arm under your thighs and the other firmly holding your back. you're used to it, you simply wrap your arms around his neck. in the hallway, your daughter emerges, making grabby hands "daddy, i also want uppies"

carlos sets you down, you carry your daughter and he carries both of you, your legs wrapped around his waist, his arms tight around you, your daughter between the two of you. you never feared that he'd drop you. and carlos would never drop the two most precious girls in his life.

after all, he was carrying his world in his arms.