do you ever think about that time when will and mack were on the bench and mack said to will, 'don't look at me like that'? because i do. do you ever play out possible scenarios in your head as to why mack said that and what that look was and why will was looking at him LIKE THAT in the first place? because same.
Ok so while I thoroughly enjoyed the RPF potential of that line, I’m actually not sure that’s what Mack said. Unlike this clip, where I can say with a reasonable amount of confidence that he’s saying “Think it’s time we bought shelves,” or Will’s clip from the same night where he says “You need to be proud,” Mack’s lip movements here are just too non-specific for me to call it. It could honestly be anything!
Well *rubs hands* Now that we’ve gotten the boring realism out of the way, let’s say “Don’t look at me like that” is exactly what Mack said. In which case, given the context of that night being Mack’s 100th goal of the season, I don’t think it was bedroom eyes that undid him. I think Mack looked over and saw a level of pride and fondness there that he genuinely could not process in the middle of a game.
This is a guy who famously hates hyping himself up or talking about his own accomplishments to the media. He visibly squirms on the bench and clenches his jaw when his coach highlights his goals in the locker room. And yet, when Will praised his first NHL game day outfit, Mack turned around and told him in an almost giddy little voice: “I love getting compliments.”
And something about that makes me insane. Because Mack grew up under Rick’s whole “you’re never as good as everyone tells you when you win, and you’re never as bad as they say when you lose” philosophy à la Lou Holtz, which sounds healthy on paper, except it also means Mack probably learned very early that praise always came with an asterisk. You’re good, but not that good. You’re special, but don’t get carried away. You did well, but there’s still something to sharpen, tweak, refine, improve. So maybe Mack has never really known what to do with love given freely, abundantly, and without conditions. Because some part of him is always waiting for the reminder that he still has work to do.
He can tell himself he’s never as bad as his inner demons say he is after losing the Olympics, or after every meaningless October to November game that still somehow feel like they’ve taken a chunk out of his soul. But he also never lets himself believe he’s that good either. He’s good enough. Acceptable. Meeting expectations. Exceeding expectations, even. But is he ever just right? Perfect? No need for improvement? No room left to grow? Probably not.
And then there’s Will, looking at him like that. Proud in a way that doesn’t ask anything from him. Fond in a way that doesn’t feel like a prelude to even more expectations. Saying nice things that somehow don’t make Mack’s skin itch or his hands sweat with the immediate need to prove himself worthy of them. Maybe compliments from Will’s mouth land differently. Maybe Mack actually believes him. Maybe the tingling in his stomach isn’t anxious nerves, but butterflies. Maybe the heat at the back of his neck isn’t discomfort, but contentment.
So yeah, he tells Will not to look at him like that. Not in the middle of a game. Not on the bench. Not with the jumbotron looming and hundreds of fans screaming their names. Because he wants to bask in Will’s pride somewhere quieter and safer. Somewhere he can actually allow himself to melt into it.
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
dededos
