Smit Smitty Smith

let him put his headphones on and listen to his trashy music and be in his own little world while he sprays plates with hot water, while will smith hockey is working his ass off serving customers and making sure everything is perfect for an egregiously high number of tips

let will bitch about his needy tables while he scrapes uneaten leftovers into the trash can and mack stares at him with his jaw dropped over the fact that he’s being acknowledged by the cute waiter who’s section everyone requests

certainly an idea worth musing on, anon! tentatively, i would like to agree with you. imposing distance is perhaps the most effective way of (incidentally or otherwise) imposing boundaries. this is why kids [generic] go to college, yes? to get away from the insular life of the hometown/parental unit/childhood friend group. get a feel for one's self beyond the confines of whatever value structures have been erected by one's community.

notably, will is both catholic and part of the new england elite - two historically insular communities upon which the defined collective ethos is strictly enforced. deviation from that politic (straying from the herd) is policed with prejudice. the fate of one's soul is on the line, as is the family inheritance. it is an exchange, in many ways. certain freedoms in favor of security, family, faith.

thus: will went to boston college. famously the same college his family has attended for generations. with traffic, newton is barely thirty minutes from lexington. he spent the entirety of his freshman year surrounded by his harem of brunettes - a collection, mind you, that he's been curating since like, third grade. this is not distance. this is not independence. this is barely a variation on a theme.

san jose - now that is what we call uprooting. i don't think we give will quite enough credit for making the jump when he did. deciding to leave behind everything he's ever known before he absolutely had to was probably a really big deal for him. he's always had his people. always. he couldn't escape them if he tried. his mom, his sister, leno, voter, gabe, etc. but that's not what waits for him in san jose! new state, new zip-code, new weather patterns, new time zone. no twelve-year friendship to cling to. no one's skirts to hide behind. just will and his hockey and a big neon sign: are you good for it, kid? and will, brave enough and crazy enough to reply, let's find out.

whether will saw san jose as an escape or not, it gave him access to a level of independence that i'd argue would've been otherwise removed from him. something of a wild claim, given his "freedom" is the rigor and routine of professional athleticism. but this is his first experience away from colleen, from the smith dynasty (except for their #appearances at his games), from the reality of whoever he spent eighteen years trying to be.

now, the conundrum of will is that he has a remarkably well-defined ego and some all-star levels of id repression. it's one of the most boydaughter things about him - he knows who he is, but can neither articulate what he wants nor act upon it. why? great question. that is the joy of psychoanalysis, and cannot be summarized cohesively here. but this conflict between will’s sense of self and the things that he doesn’t know how to want drives most of his neurosis. this is where his people pleasing comes from. giving other people what they want (making them like him) is not exactly the same as getting what he wants. but it’s a transference. which is close enough.

so what do you do if you are will, standing in will’s shoes? you’re in california, a place you’ve never been, surrounded by people who don’t know you past your hockey stats. you’ve been booted from the terrarium that you’ve existed in for your entire life, the one where nearly everything has been dictated to you from the beginning. how to stand, what to eat, how to run, how to pray, what to love, when to let go, how fast, how ugly, how much. some of that still exists here, but off the rink, you are left unmoored. so much time to think about all the things you’ve never had the space to think about. what do you want, will? do you even know? if you knew, could you even say it? for a person like will, with will’s specific brand of issues, this kind of freedom can feel like a panic attack.

enter: mack. 18!

mack is deeply insecure about his image and lacks a concrete sense of self. this is inflamed by his abrasive awkwardness off of the rink. he is a lurker who does not ever seem to sit comfortably inside of his skin without a tarp on; a product of his abnormal childhood, yes, but i like to think it’s also just mack (it’s one of my favorite things about him). what mack is, is all raw id, all the time. he knows what he wants, and he is driven by that want. it moves him, more than anything else.

mack is an off-putting weirdo who actually cannot help wearing his heart on his sleeve, and wants to win more than anything else in the world. this is very appealing to will, who is very good at not being off-putting or weird, but secretly is both of these things, and very bad about wearing anything on his sleeve. will, who would also like to win more than anything else in the world, but who cannot show it unless provoked just the right way. who is better when he has someone to please. transference. what is mine is yours. i could be so good for you, if you would only tell me how.

(and for mack, will is like… like, the best thing that has ever happened to him. someone who not only keeps up with him on the ice, but can keep up with him off of it. someone who wants to make himself into the person that mack needs him to be. someone who is willing to be entirely mack’s, just for mack, mack’s person, who likes him all the way! likes his jank. wants him more for it, really. someone who lights mack up, on and off the ice.)