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Ottawa Centaurs vs. Vancouver Squids SportsNet Canadian National Broadcast Transcript

Mark Malloy: Hollander passes it to Haas with fifteen seconds remaining, and Haas shoots and just misses, hitting the post. This will take us to the end of the second period, with the Ottawa Centaurs up 2-1 over the Vancouver Squids. Hollander scored the first goal of the game in the first period, with an assist from Haas. Rozanov scored the second goal for the Centaurs during the last power play, with an assist from both Hollander and Barrett. With Hollander’s goal and assist, he now has the lead over Seattle’s Maxwell Davis for points on the season at 82. 

James Martin: Seattle isn’t playing tonight, so Hollander can get himself into a good lead during the game if he keeps it up in the third period, although Ilya Rozanov isn’t too far behind on the leaderboard either. With Rozanov’s goal tonight, he is sitting comfortably in second place with 35 goals on the season, three behind Tampa’s Gregory Tremblay. Hollander sits in fourth with 30. 

Mark: Lot’s of good hockey being played tonight. We’ll take a short break for commercials and then send it over to the desk to go over the highlights before the third period. 

James: Jesus fucking christ, man. 

Mark: Hopefully, you got all those numbers right, don’t want that bitch from Canada writing you one of her strongly worded emails tonight. 

James: Are you talking about Mrs. Hollander? Heard Brian got one of those emails last time, and then she got him suspended.

Mark: Yeah, man, she got all prissy because he made some comment last year about how nice it probably was that Hollander got a hat trick on Lunar New Year. God forbid the guy try and be inclusive about Asian culture. 

James: What did she say?

Mark: Wrote a long fucking email about how Shane is part Japanese, not Chinese and how Japanese people do not celebrate the Lunar New Year, that it’s Chinese or whatever. Same fucking shit man. Real fucking Tiger Mom. 

James: I don’t know why she thinks she can stand on her moral high ground. She sells out her son worse than Kris Jenner. I’ve seen way more of Hollander’s body-

Producer: Hot mic! Hot mic!

Ottawa Centaurs vs. Vancouver Squids SportsNet Canadian National Broadcast Transcript

Mark: We are back for the third period here in Vancouver. Ottawa’s Shane Hollander lines up for the puck drop against Vancouver’s Mickey Donahue. Ottawa is up 2-1. Ottawa has a comfortable lead in the Atlantic and is one game ahead of Carolina in the East. Vancouver really needs this win to narrow the lead that Seattle has over them, who are sitting in first in the Pacific.

James: Hollander wins the face off, and we’d like to take a moment to address some um comments we made earlier tonight that I guess went out over the air that we are deeply ashamed of. If we have hurt anyone out there, we can't tell you how much we say from the bottom of our hearts, we are so very, very sorry. I pride myself and think of myself as a man of faith—Hollander with a breakaway towards the Squid’s goalie, and he slams it in for his second goal of the night, so that'll make it a 3-1 game as we start the third period. I don't know if we are gonna be putting on these headsets again. I don't know if it's-

Shane and Ilya were the last to arrive in the visitors' locker room after the Centaurs' 4-2 win over the Vancouver Squids. Both of them had received stars for the night, Shane getting the first star for his two goals and one assist, and Ilya got the second star for his two goals. The third one went to a Vancouver player, but the two hockey stars were surprised by the loud cheering they got from the away crowd for their awards. 

It wasn’t that strange to get warm welcomes in other cities. They were not only two of the best players in the league, but also had been married for almost two years now, in their second season playing together after winning the cup last year. Vancouver had a lot of transplants and was a pretty accepting city towards gay people. Plus, the fact that they only played there once a year. It wasn’t that strange to feel like the arena was cheering more for them than the away team. 

No, the strange thing that Shane noticed in the last period was the weird energy going around in the stands. A lot of people had pulled out their phones and were glued to their screens. It felt like everyone was sharing a secret that no one on the ice seemed to know about. Shane really hoped a tragedy hadn’t happened while they were out there, and it was just some celebrity scandal (that didn’t involve Rose, please). 

His hopes were crushed when the two of them walked into the locker room, smiling and laughing, excited to celebrate a win against a good team on the road. When they walked in, though, everyone was deathly silent, exchanging glances between themselves and their phones until their eyes settled on their captain and one of their alternates. 

“Why is everyone so serious?” Ilya asked, keeping himself planted in the doorway with Shane next to him, making no moves towards their stalls. “Did our sex tape get leaked or something?” 

Shane shook his head and tried not to turn red, failing, “We don’t have a sex- never mind. What’s wrong?” 

Shane noticed that their entire coaching staff, Harris, and their general manager were all in the room as well. He got a really uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as his heart rate started to increase. He felt like he was back in the Montreal locker room after the Fan Mail video had leaked. 

He could barely hear Bood with the blood pumping in his ears as the other alternate captain placed his hand on Shane’s shoulder to lead him to the bench in front of his stall. “Why don’t you both sit down for a second?” 

Shane let himself be dragged over, but Ilya protested. “Someone fucking tell us what’s going on? Is someone hurt? Dead? You are going to send him into a panic attack.” 

“Rozanov,” Wiebe spoke up, walking over to his captain. “Everyone is fine, physically at least. But tonight's game was nationally broadcast, and the announcers got caught on the hot mic. I need you to promise me that you will not do anything drastic once we show you what was said.” 

Ilya looked like he was going to fight, but Shane realized he must have looked really bad in that moment because after one glance at his husband, Ilya walked over and sat next to him, pushing Bood’s arm away from Shane’s shoulder to place his there instead. 

The two of them tried their best not to share too much PDA in the locker room. Shane hated PDA in general and wanted to be as professional as possible, and Ilya was good about it for the most part. But the two of them were not as strict as they got more used to being on the same team together and did show some affection, especially in special circumstances, like right now.

Bood pulled up his phone and hit play. The video showed the broadcast right after the second period ended, with Mark Malloy and James Martin at the broadcast desk. They had just signed off, and the camera switched to the logo they used to transition to a commercial, but the commercial never appeared as their mic audio continued to stream to all of Canada. 

Shane felt so cold as he listened to the two men say horrible things about his mother. They called her a bitch. They called a Tiger Mom. They acted like the racist things that were said about him weren’t valid to criticize. They implied that his mom was essentially whoring him out, as if he didn’t have any free will in the matter. They acted like them not doing their proper research about him, what their actual fucking jobs were, was somehow his and his mom's fault. 

His mom, oh god, his mom. 

“I need to call my mom!” Shane shot up and turned towards his stall, looking for his phone. “She and my dad were watching tonight at home. They heard, oh god my mom.” 

“Yes,” Ilya also stood, placing a hand on Shane’s lower back, his voice deathly low. “You do that, and I’ll go find Malloy and Martin and kill them.” 

“Rozanov, you are not leaving this locker room until it’s time to leave for the bus,” Wiebe called out. Barrett and Hayes were already by the door, in case they needed to restrain him, anticipating what their captain was going to do.

“What about the press conference?” Rozanov replied, as if that was the most important thing right now. Shane knew what he meant. Knew that his husband wanted, no needed, to do something. Wanted to go run his mouth to the press, tell them all off. 

Ilya pretty much always did press. He was the captain after all. When Shane first started with the Centaurs, they knew putting the two of them together at the table was going to cause a stir. Bood would go instead of Shane a lot until things calmed down for the most part. The press quickly learned that if they overstepped, they wouldn’t get Hollander and Rozanov together. If they behaved, they would get them together and maybe even get a cute offhand comment occasionally about the two of them.

Shane knew that management and Harris loved them doing press together. Shane was the more media-trained and calm one. His husband was more off the cuff and gave the headline quotes. Shane didn’t muzzle Ilya, though. With the two of them together, he could still show his personality, give the reporters funny statements and chirps, but with Shane next to him, nothing turned into a mess for Harris to clean up. Ilya being next to him made him loosen up eventually, too, allowing the press to see more of Shane Hollander than they used to. 

They were a good team together, on and off the ice. But today, they would be nuclear bombs if they were in front of the mics. 

“Boodram and Dykstra will go. Everyone else, stay put,” Wiebe pointed at two of his veteran players. 

“Obviously, the team and organization as a whole are disgusted by this,” Harris spoke up, sounding way more professional than the Director of Communications usually did. “Hollander, we’ll talk when we are back with your agent and the press office to issue a full official statement. We’ll issue a short we are aware of the situation one tonight. We’ll see what the MLH and SportsNet decide to do, and we are already in communication with them. Call your parents, tell your mom we all love her. We’ll take care of everything public-facing. Just be with your family. You too, Rozanov.” 

“But-” Rozanov started to speak up, still eyeing the door to make a run for it. 

“Ilya, please,” Shane grabbed his arm. “I want to kill them too, but we need to call mom.” 

Ilya relaxed a bit, and the team let out an exhale. 

Things started to move quickly after that. Bood and Dykstra went to do press while the rest of the team got ready to get on the bus that would take them to the airport to go home. They had been on a West Coast road trip for two weeks now, and everyone was already itching to go home even before the incident happened. 

The team tried to give the two as much privacy as they could in the locker room, letting them take a corner while everyone else tried to stay to one side. Those who had been set up next to them were grabbing all their stuff and trying to find room somewhere else. Small conversations started back up, although somber. 

Shane and Ilya sat on the bench, legs pressed hard against each other. Ilya placed his hand on Shane’s back and leaned into him so that he could hear the conversation on the phone once David picked up. 

“Dad!” Shane called out as soon as he heard the click of the connected call. He didn’t want to make his mom answer. He wanted to know how she was actually doing, not whatever brave face he knew she’d do for her sons. “I’m assuming you guys were watching.” 

“Yes, we were watching,” David responded, sounding defeated. Shane didn’t think he ever heard his dad angry, and wasn’t going to today either. His dad was always the calm one, the grounded one out of his parents. 

“How is she?” Ilya asked, moving his head slightly so his voice would be picked up by the phone's mic.

“Oh, you know,” David sighed. “She’s already in crisis mode. She’s talking to Farah right now on the phone.” 

“Dad-” Shane choked, trying not to cry. “Why is she-”

“She’s trying to hide that she is upset,” David whispered. They could hear his mom talking in the background and figured he didn’t want her to overhear. “I’ve tried to tell her that she has every right to be angry. To cry. To feel however she wants to feel. But she is trying to brush it off.” 

“Can I talk to her?” Shane asked, his voice small. He was shaking.

“Yuna, honey,” David called out. “Shane wants to talk to you.” 

There was some rustling in the background, and he heard her tell Farah that she would call her back. “Hey, baby, you were great tonight.” 

“Mom, let’s not-”

“Shane, honey, it’s alright. I’m sure they will be suspended, if not fired. I already have Farah working on some statements and coordinating with your team.”

“Mom!” Shane raised his voice, catching the attention of multiple people in the locker room who were trying their best not look like they were eavesdropping. “It’s not alright. Are you okay? I’m so sorry that they said those things. They aren’t true, and no one feels these things about you.” 

“Shane-” Yuna tried to interrupt, but Shane wasn’t going to let her sugarcoat any of this. His mom was one of the strongest people he knew, but she wasn’t allowed to pretend with this. 

“They are just cowards. Idiots. They refuse to get a clue about anything and are looking for an excuse for why they suck at their jobs. They are afraid of getting any feedback, so they lash out at you, and it’s not fair and not deserved. You have every right to call them out for their racist shit, and they should be thanking you that you handled it privately the first time. And they fucking wish they had you managing them. You are so good at your job, and I’m an active participant in the deals that I do. I know how to say no. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. They wish they had you right now because you are the only person I know who could even remotely save their careers.”

“What he said,” Ilya added, moving his hand from Shane’s back to his shoulder, squeezing it hard. 

“Shane, thank you, I love you.” Yuna sniffled, and Shane felt tears forming in the creases of his eyes. His mom crying was going to send him over the edge here in a minute. “I love you, too, Ilya.” 

Shane looked up for a moment and realized that no matter how much his team tried to give them privacy, there was no escaping what they just heard. About twenty pairs of eyes were all on him. 

“Oh, the guys also wanted to say that they love you and have your back,” Shane quickly added. 

His mom gave a small laugh. “Tell them thank you and that they played well tonight. Now you boys get on that plane and come home to me, okay. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow.”

“No more work tonight,” Shane told his mom. “Dad!” He said a little louder, hoping his dad was nearby and could hear them. “Dad, she is not allowed to do any work tonight!” 

His dad’s voice was a little far away, but he could still hear him. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t. It’s well past midnight here anyway, Yuna. You should be asleep?” 

His mom huffed like a disciplined teenager, which was very strange for Shane to hear and even made Ilya laugh. “Fine,” she sniffed again. “Let me know when you boys land.” 

Shane wiped a tear from his eyes, and Ilya took the phone. “We will. Now sleep, Yuna. It would make your favorite son happy.” 

They were taking a red-eye flight back to Ottawa, with the plan for everyone to sleep on the plane. With the time difference and everything, it was going to be a rough day for everyone, but they had three blissful days off as a reward for getting through the West Coast gauntlet. 

The plane was quiet, with snores and deep breaths filling the silence. Shane couldn’t sleep, though. He wasn’t the best about sleeping in moving vehicles already, but especially not after all the drama from the day. He had moved on from being absolutely devastated for his mom to pure anger for what the announcers had put her through, for all the shit that he had to endure for years. 

It wasn’t the first time anyone had said anything negative about his mom. When he was young, and they were all learning how to chirp for the first time, mom insults were all the rage. He never participated in any of them and tried to tell his teammates to cut it out. That just made them target him more, though. One time in juniors, one of his competitors had said something especially gross about his mom, something about her putting out for scouts and stuff. Shane was getting a lot of attention at that point, and the kid was obviously jealous. Nevertheless, Shane slammed him so hard against the boards that the boy had to leave the game. 

He didn’t think that the kid lasted that much longer after that. 

Some of his Montreal teammates thought that his relationship with his mom was weird, but he tried to brush it off. Yeah, they were close. Yeah, she was his manager. He was sure the other guys wished they were lucky enough to get drafted to a team so close to home that their parents could attend so much. 

He got a lot of chirps about it on the ice, too, but mostly they were just calling him a mommy’s boy. They were weak in the grand scheme of things, and Shane usually just let his game speak for itself. 

His mom and him didn’t have a perfect relationship. He still thinks he has the best parents in the world, but things would get complicated sometimes because his mother was also his manager. They argued a lot about his career and the deals that he took. His own husband had even gotten involved in the arguments that they would get into sometimes. 

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t love her, that he wouldn’t do anything for her. If he said no, she would take it. Sometimes she might try to give him reasons why he might want to change his mind, but if he said no after all of it, she would accept it and move on. She wouldn’t hold resentment for him, wouldn’t hold it over his head. 

God, he was so pissed. Over the last few years, everything had seemed to be about his sexuality and who his husband was. It was sad to say, but he was prepared for the homophobia at this point. He was ready to find out what person with a microphone had said this week about all of that. To a lesser degree, he was ready for the racist microaggressions to be said about him, too. He hadn’t even blinked at the Lunar New Year's comment last year. 

But to come after his mother like that. To say such vile things in front of all of Canada like that. He wasn’t prepared for that at all.

He was also a bit pissed that everyone was more worried about holding his husband back and not him. The focus was on making sure that Rozanov didn’t say anything to the press, that Rozanov didn’t confront anyone, that Rozanov didn’t post on social media. 

What about Shane? That was his fucking mother for crying out loud. The whole thing was about him. 

Shane Hollander was considered one of the calmest guys in the league, the least confrontational. He hardly got into fights. If there was an all-out brawl, he would join in to protect his guys, but he wasn’t an instigator, except for the one time he truly tried to fight Scott Hunter. And it was Scott Hunter for godsake. He gave media-trained answers and hardly argued with refs. His social media was clean cut with no controversial posts. 

Shane spent his whole career being compared to Ilya Rozanov, first as his rival and then as his husband and teammate. Even if he was confrontational, he would still look like a saint next to the guy who did literal research on chirps for each team he played. Who had more fake teeth than real teeth at this point. Who once finished the season with the most penalty minutes in the Eastern Conference. 

But that didn’t mean that Shane didn’t get angry. Wouldn’t defend the people he loved. He knew how to chirp back. He played hockey his whole life and knew how to throw a punch. Maybe he wouldn’t try it against an enforcer or anything, but he could hold his own if he wanted. It’s also not like his husband didn’t spend multiple hours after they got outed making sure that Shane could handle all the extra attention they were about to receive on the ice. 

The league's bad boy was currently drooling on Shane’s shoulder, having calmed down after talking with Yuna on the phone earlier and holding off on murdering everyone. Especially since everyone was helicoptering around him to make sure he didn’t make things worse. He was holding one of Shane’s hands, too. 

Lucky, or unlucky, for Shane, he was still able to scroll his phone with one hand. 

The vast majority of people seemed to be appalled by what was said. Even some of the worst people online could pretend to be empathetic when someone’s mother was involved. It helped that a lot of people thought Malloy and Martin were annoying already. Some people were even happy that they had been caught on the hot mic so that they would be fired and not have to hear them anymore. 

Shane rolled his eyes. People got to celebrate their least favorite announcers losing their jobs at the expense of his mother’s dignity. 

Shane watched the clip of him scoring at the beginning of the third period next. It had become an instant meme already, with him scoring in the middle of the announcer's bullshit apology. He could see the humor in it, and maybe he could laugh at it one day. But for now, it just made his stomach drop more, watching how naive he was in the moment. He had no idea what was going on when he scored that goal, just that he was having a great game and probably had taken over first place for points on the leaderboard. It all just felt stupid now. His mom was getting humiliated while he was out on the ice, celebrating a goal that any other day he would probably not remember. 

The next clip was Boodram and Dykstra at the press conference, solemn looks on their faces.

“Are you guys aware of what happened on the broadcast right after the second period?” A reporter had asked right away. 

“Yes, we are,” Boodram has fumbled with a piece of paper in his hand that Harris had most likely given him. “The Ottawa Centaurs will be issuing an official statement at a later time. We are disgusted and disappointed at the comments made earlier today. We all love the Hollander family, and we are asking you all to give them privacy. We will not be discussing the matter any further tonight.”

Shane hated it so much. He didn’t blame Bood or Dykstra. He didn’t blame Harris either. They did what they were supposed to do, what they had to do. But Shane wished he had been in that seat instead. That he had the opportunity to give his real thoughts on the matter. He probably would have yelled. Definitely would have cried.

He scrolled down some more to find all the official accounts' posts.

Shane had enough. He was making his own personal statement. No one was awake to stop him. He had spent almost fifteen years in the league, and he was fucking tired of it all.

Shane was about to have a panic attack as he hit post on his tweets. It was close to 7 am in Ottawa, and the hockey world in the Eastern time zone was about to wake up to his sleepless rant. He didn’t know if he would regret it later, if it would just make things worse. But he was so tired. So tired of spending his whole career being quiet. He behaved his whole career and still got exiled when his relationship was revealed. He dominated his whole career and was still almost kicked out of the league.

He did everything he was supposed to, and none of it mattered. So now he was going to break rules. 

He tried to remember why he was able to do this before he lost all control of his breathing and woke up his husband. The Centaurs had his back, the whole team did, the front office did, all the staff did. They were going to be pissed at him. So fucking pissed, but they weren’t going to terminate his contract or anything. Hell, Ilya had gone on a similar crash-out last year when someone had made a very gross comment about his mom’s suicide. 

He was able to do this because what the fuck would the league do? He and his husband were the most popular players in the MLH ever since they were outed (like they already pretty much were, but they even surpassed Scott Hunter, certified Gay Hockey Icon, level of popularity). The general public outside of sports knew about him (thank you, Rose Landry). Benching him or suspending him because he said fuck a lot while calling out the racism and misyogny direct at his mother would cause so much backlash. Pretty much everyone was on his mother's side. He held the court of public opinion. 

His sponsers could pull him or quietly not renew their contracts. A couple of them had when it was revealed he had been in a relationship with Rozanov. But once him and Ilya got married, so many more came knocking on their door. He had more than enough money anyways, it wasn’t like he needed another shoe deal. 

And at the end of the day, he did what his mom always told him to do. She always told him how a lot of kids were looking up to him, that they didn’t get to see people like him often in Hockey. He used to internalize that a lot, which made him think he had to be perfect. But he realized now what that meant. That those kids who looked up to him were going to see him stand up for himself, for his mom, and learn that they could do it too. That someone was speaking for them, trying to do something for it to be better. 

He turned his phone off and went to sleep, resting his head against his husband’s, who was now snoring. 

Big scary hockey player his ass. 

“Shane, wake up,” Ilya nudged him. He didn’t feel like he slept for long, but he must have gotten a few hours because the seat belt sign was on and they were descending. “Harris looks like he is going to kill us.” 

Harris sat in the seat next to Barrett in the row across from them. They usually did anyway, but Shane was sure Harris did specifically this time to keep an eye on Rozanov. The two were asleep earlier, which surprised Shane, but Troy was able to convince Harris that he should get some sleep before he embarked on the day from hell that was awaiting him. 

Shane rubbed his eyes and noticed his phone in the seat pouch, and he remembered what he had done. 

Oh fuck. 

“Harris, stop looking at me like that. I was on my best behavior. My phone isn’t even on, I slept the entire time,” Ilya put his hands up in the air to defend himself, leaning forward pass Shane to see their Communications Director

“Oh, I know you did,” Harris shook his head. “I’m going to murder your husband.” 

“Shane?” Ilya raised an eyebrow. “My Shane would not hurt a fly. He is very nice Canadian boy. Has good manners.” 

“Your nice Canadian boy said fuck ten fucking times,” Harris yelled, catching the attention of everyone on the plane who were in various states of waking up. 

“Well, yes he says fuck more than I do. What are you talking about? Where did he say fuck ten times?” Ilya asked, grabbing his phone from his pocket to turn it on. 

“On Twitter!” Harris held up his phone in the air. Shane could see all the Centaurs around him scrambling for their phones. 

“Don’t forget he said shit five times as well,” Barrett added. 

Thanks, Troy, Shane thought, really fucking helpful. 

“Oh, this is long,” Ilya squeezed their hands that were still clasped together and scrolled on his phone with the other. “Why do you never write me love letters this long? You have such a way with words. I also think they would start with ‘I’m fucking pissed’.”

“Shane!” Harris was about to have a stroke, and he realized he hadn’t uttered a word since Ilya woke him up. 

“I’m not sorry!” Shane spoke up even though he was a little bit sorry. He liked Harris. He’d consider him one of his closest friends since joining the Centaurs. He truly didn’t want to make his life difficult. 

“Look, Shane,” Harris lowered his voice. They were creating a lot of attention on the plane as the team, one by one, read Shane’s ‘Official Statement’. “As your friend, I agree with what you said and did. As the Director of Communications, why?” 

“Look, Harris, I know you are in a tough position, and I made it worse for you. But I’m so tired of it all. I’ve been doing this way too long to just stand by and say and do nothing.” 

“Shane, I get it. I really do. But could you maybe use fewer words that you aren’t allowed to say on TV next time?”

Shane smiled. “Maybe.” He didn’t know if there would ever be a next time. But he was a hockey player, and he really liked saying the word fuck. 

“I didn’t even think about the fines that SportsNet is going to get hit with,” Troy added. 

“Oh yeah,” Harris shook his head, already aware of that part of this whole ordeal. “Even if they wouldn’t get fired for the vile shit that they said, they are going to get fired for costing the company so much money.”

Harris started frantically typing on his phone while Barrett rubbed circles into his back. Shane was sure he would get more of a talking to later on by others in the front office, but for now, he was off the hook. 

“Moya Lyubov,” Ilya whispered, pressing his mouth to Shane’s ear. “This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“Not even when I did your move against Boston a few years ago?” 

“Not ever fucking close,” he placed a kiss on the side of Shane’s head. “I will be quoting, I wrote this whole thing my fucking self, for years to come.” 

“I hate when they think that anything I say or do that’s not a perfectly media-trained statement is your influence,” Shane admitted. 

“I do too, I definitely do not say fuck this much,” Ilya smiled. “I would say your mother should have washed your mouth out with soap, but I’ve heard her playing cards. She is worse than you.” 

Shane laughed and then abruptly stopped. “Fuck, my mom. She is going to kill me.” 

“Oh, Yuna Hollander, manager, is going to fucking bury you in the backyard herself. Yuna Hollander, mother, is going to be so proud of you.” 

“Hollzy, you fucking legend,” Hayes yelled from the front of the plane. Everyone must have been waiting for someone to say something first, because chants of ‘Hollander’ were their landing music as they arrived in Ottawa.