Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Angst & Comfort, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Slurs, Explicit Language, Hockey-Typical Violence, threat of violence, post TV show, set during the long game, post being outed, Shane is still with Montreal, Canon Divergence, Spoilers

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Let Shane Hollander Crash Out

Collections:

THE COTTAGE, Ink's Top Tier Fic List, No thoughts just gay hockey, The best pairings to bask in, HollaNov fanfics I Love

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-26 Words: 5,692 Chapters: 3/3

Such a Loveable Lamb

Summary

When someone takes it too far on the ice, Shane forgets to drop his gloves first. Ilya only feels a teensy bit responsible but has zero regrets.

Notes

The team names are so irritating, I stuck with the Metros and used an actual NHL team name.

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

I am a Shane Can Fight truther

Anyone would have said it would be Ilya to break first. Anyone. Anyone except Ilya himself. Because he knew better, and he knew Shane best.

Ilya had spent his whole life flipping chirps back on a dime. Relentlessly hounding anyone who might spy a sliver of weakness in him. He had to. It was his genetic destiny, after all. Weakness was unacceptable, especially in front of your enemy. For a long time, everyone who was not Svetlana was his enemy, even Shane. Anger was weakness, a bad temper was a flaw.

Show boater. Emotionally volatile. Aggressive. Arrogant. Hot tempered. Immature.

The press had been saying these things about him for years. Whenever his stats were mentioned, so was his temper, his chirping, whatever recent fight he was in. But Ilya never started fights, he caused them. He never dropped his gloves first, he snarked and sniped until his opponent did. What the press saw as volatile and immature was actually deftly executed strategy. He saved all his thinking for hockey and Shane, everything else he let go. Every chirp, every hit, every penalty was intentional and by design. Maybe his shooting would be off one night, maybe his reflexes, but never when it came to mind games with his opponents. (He would never say it out loud, but the most effective way for Ilya to get under Shane's skin was to ignore him. Completely. Ilya just wasn't capable of doing that nine times out of ten. And it wasn't nearly as fun.)

So there was no way in hell that he would ever lose his temper over pathetic, idiotic barbs about his sexuality or his ability to bag The Shane Hollander as his lover. (Shane would complain, but the word fit beautifully.) While these dumbfucks made stupid jokes about men fucking men, Ilya had Shane Hollander- the best player in the MLH, three time Stanley Cup winner, millionaire, gorgeous Shane Hollander, in his bed. A man who had founded a charity in Ilya's mother's name just to logistically spend more time with him in public (not fucking, not private meetings, in public for everyone to see). A man who made him quit smoking and eat more fiber and wear gloves to run errands in the winter. So when they tossed slurs at him, ragged on him for being pussy-whipped by a man, it was like they were lobbing those sad dry marshamallows in the hot chocolate packets the Pikes had forced on him. He didn't get upset, he laughed.

"Yes, I'm a faggot that scored more goals last season than you will in your life. Sad for you. I kick your ass, win game, then go home to a beautiful man! You? You will cry in your ugly car and your wife will masturbate all alone wishing she got to fuck Shane Hollander."

"Hollander is stunning and I've seen your wife. Does she go to horse doctor to get her teeth shaved down? It's not working!"

"Of course I get distracted by his dick. He has a beautiful dick. I've seen your dick, it's terrible. Your poor wife is suffering sucking that hideous thing! I will send her picture of Shane's dick, this will help her see sense…yes we must free her from mediocre dick! This is no kind of life!"

"You should be more worried about your goalie taking my puck up his ass because of your shit footwork…Yes my puck, look at the score!"

"If I wanted advice from the worst player in Florida about how to not have amazing sex with gorgeous man, I would ask you. But I like sex, so, pass."

"I convinced a millionaire hockey player to marry me. You can't even convince that stripper to move in with you, and good call for her."

"Sucking Scott Hunter's dick would be an honor. He wouldn't even let you look at his dick. You would have to give him a concussion, get him all confused, and he'd still kick your ass. That's how ugly you are!"

Does it sometimes lead to fights? Sure, it happens. But it always happens because that's what Ilya does. He's a feral Russian dog who will never, ever, ever let that bone drop. If other players want to fight about it, he will give them that fight.

Shane was not this way.

Shane had maintained his golden boy, sweetheart status for a decade. Even his one off with Scott Hunter had not tarnished that reputation. Shane focused on the hockey. His chirp game was weak on a good day and he knew it. It was fine. If he got chirped, he told them to fuck off and promptly outskated, outmaneuvered, and outscored whoever said it. That was Shane's way: put up or shut up. That's why he and Ilya worked so well together. Ilya could back his talk. They made each other stronger, sharpened the edges instead of dulling them.

Which is why Ilya in a…misguided attempt to force Shane's hand, basically dared the idiotic homophobes to get in Shane's face. It wasn't…smart, exactly, but it was a strategy.

Shane could handle chirping (except from Ilya). He always had (except from Ilya). But the comments about their private life, their sex life, Shane's sexuality in general, were too much. He wasn't handling it well. He was too tense, too pissed off, too rudderless to get a good grip on it. And Ilya just did what he always did when Shane was too in his head and too stubborn to accept help: Pushed him off the ledge.

"You should say that to Hollander's face."

"I dare you to say that to him."

"I will pay you to say that to Hollander."

"Oooh, I'm telling! Hollander will put you on your ass next week for that."

"So big and tough chirping a man not even on the ice. No balls! No goals!"

"Such a manly man being so obsessed with Hollander's ass and what goes in it. Shoot your shot, let's see you try. He'd laugh in your face, make you cry like a baby."

"Please, please, please I am begging you to say this to Hollander. I will throw this whole game if you promise!"

In his defense, if Shane could just calm down, loosen up, let the ribbing go, then he wouldn't need to do this. Not that Ilya thought it was Shane's fault, that's just who he was and these dicks were taking advantage. His poor sunshine had been stressed for weeks about every dig and stupid name thrown at him. Violence was the only solution. The incredible, explosive, un-fun type of violence that could only come from a man so overstimulated and coiled around himself that a tap would shatter him to bits.

Shane wasn't a fighter but he could fight. He very secretly had taken up boxing after their rookie season, preferring to show off the calm, perfect yoga. But when properly riled, Shane had that dog in him, as Marly liked to say. Ilya had always sensed it in Shane. He had felt that tension, seen the energy whip around him, and knew that the right guy pushing the right button would unlock a bestial side of Shane so terrifying that it would shut them all up for good. Ilya was a lot of bark, Shane was all bite.

And even though his beloved sunshine sweetheart with too much anxiety and perfectly folded, boring clothes was more stubborn than a bull, eventually the right man flipped just the right switch.

It was magnificent.

Ilya was in the suite with the Hollanders and Pikes watching the Montreal play against Detroit at home. It was a good game. Fast. A little tense. The commentators kept bringing up how agitated Shane seemed and Ilya couldn't argue that. He missed passes he would never miss, left holes in the line that were obvious, he was playing rough and just slightly, but barely, sloppy. Didn't stop him from scoring a hat trick in the by the end of the second period, though.

His teammates were egging him on, doing nothing to focus that energy productively. They didn't know Shane would spend the next week obsessing over every missed opportunity, every flubbed play, every ill-timed face off. No because Ilya would be walking him through it. Ilya would endure ten hours of tape replaying over and over again. The motherfuckers, why weren't they even trying? Except Pike. Pike was trying but Ilya was convinced Shane had a Hayden Pike filter. Didn't get in.

"This is bad," Yuna muttered almost to no one.

"Yes, something is wrong."

"He's still scoring at least," David pointed out.

"No, this is bad," he and Yuna said together. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

Ilya clocked it before anyone on the ice.

It was Bentley Feldman, a loudmouth 3rd year, 3rd line center who kept claiming he was coming for Shane's records. Ilya's and Hunter's too, sometimes, but he picked at Shane in the press a lot. Shane obviously didn't care, he just played his game and left it on the ice. Like always. Feldman had been running his mouth more than usual lately, since he and Shane were outed. He chirped Ilya constantly until he embarrassed the shit out of him on Twitter. Shane had never brought him up specifically, he just fell under the "homophobic talentless pieces of shit" category in Shane's complaints.

But Ilya saw it. He saw Feldman skate by, saw the smirk, saw Shane's head whip to follow him. A drive by. Gutless bastard. Couldn't even face Shane like a man, say it with his whole chest. Apparently Shane agreed.

He didn't even drop his gloves first. He didn't drop his gloves at all.

Shane barrelled at Feldman, knocking him clean into the boards. They grappled with each other until Shane managed to rip Feldman's helmet off and then started wailing on him. With his gloves on, Feldman's head and face didn't stand a chance. He couldn't even get a swing in, trying to hold onto Shane to stay upright. Fucker should have taken the fall.

The ice erupted into chaos as Metros enforcers broke into a scrum holding back the Wings from getting to their captain. It took three refs to restrain Shane, who was still fighting their hold and screaming at Feldman as he was removed from the ice.

"Well you don't see that too often, folks. Hollander has lost it!"

"Captain's always so put together, you almost hate to see it. He didn't even drop his gloves. Feldman's gotta be hurting!"

"And you have to wonder what Feldman said to Hollander. It must have been a quick chirp, I didn't even see it."

"Hollzy's been wound up for the first two periods, safe to say it wasn't just one chirp, guys."

"Given recent events regarding Hollander's personal life, I imagine he must have said the wrong thing!"

"Hollander's long time rival and boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov captain of the Ottawa Centaurs is almost constantly fighting on the ice. He's known for it and players say he's been testier since the couple was publicly outed by a FanMail video. But you just don't see this kind of heat from Hollander."

"At least the Centaurs seem to be backing Rozanov in those scrums. Where are the Metros for Hollander?"

"I agree! The team seems a little too relaxed watching him get pushed over the edge like that. And for context, Hollander wouldn't even fight Rozanov at the height of their rivalry! Roz pretended he thought Hollander was a goalie to the press for two months!"

"Hollander admitted to me he thought it was a good bit."

"Almost everyone else in the League has tried to fight the mad Russian!"

"Even the goalies!"

"But not Hollander. Not like this."

"We can speculate as to why."

"I would think that would make him want to hit the man more, Mike…"

"This just does not sit right with me, Joe, not right at all."

Ilya, witnessing Shane absolutely wallop that idiot, was both turned on and terrified.

"I should—"

"Go," David agreed, "text us."

He nodded and jogged out to the elevator. They wouldn't let him in the locker room, but he could be nearby at least.

By the time he got down there Shane was in the locker room, the press surrounding the door. Ilya backed up into a side hall immediately, not wanting to get caught, but he backed up right into a security guard. He was a younger black man with neat dreads and a French lilt.

"Okay there Mr. Rozanov?"

He shook his head and tossed a hand. "Press. Can't get to Hollander."

The security guard nodded at him.

"Let's get you in the side door."

"Really?"

"Capitaine's hurting. Needs you."

Following the guard's lead, they snuck in through a service door into the locker room. Ilya didn't get very far before running into Shane's coach, Thierault, though. Right in front of the door to the team doctor and PT room.

"Rozanov? How did you get in here?" Ilya went with a silent shrug instead an answer. The man sighed. "He's in with the doctor."

"I'd like to see my partner."

The coach blinked at him and bobbled his head.

"Two minutes."

Ilya nodded and ducked through that door.

Inside Shane was up on the exam table, face in his hands while the team doctor was eating funyons at his desk, scrolling on his phone. He looked up at Ilya.

"Don't listen to him, this is my office, we can stay in here all night."

Shane huffed from the table. "No we can't."

"I take concussion protocol very seriously Hollzy."

"He didn't even hit me," Shane dropped his hands finally as Ilya came to stand in front of him. He put his own hands to Shane's padded knees and couldn't help the slow grin on his face as Shane's eyes started to water and cheeks flush.

"Don't—" he tried.

"That was so hot, malysh."

Shane groaned and tried to turn away, but Ilya wouldn't let him. He grabbed Shane by his shoulder pads, reached for his chin, forced eye contact. Shane submitted to it. He always did. He always let Ilya do what he wanted with him.

"It's gonna be so bad, Ilya," he whispered.

"Little bad," he agreed. "Could be worse."

The doctor snorted. "That guy is out 2 games at least. This was gnarly Hollz."

"Not helpful!" Ilya chirped back. He kept his eyes on Shane. "Do you want to tell me what he said to you?" Shane shook his head. "A slur?" Shane's brows pinched together. "Not to you," Ilya concluded. "To me."

"Worse."

"A threat?"

Shane nodded. White hot rage flushed through his body, making the back of his neck tingle and his jaw clench. Playful ribbing was one thing, but a threat of real violence…that would definitely set Shane off. Shane was shaking and Ilya scrambled. He grabbed up his hand, rubbing and holding it to his chest.

"Hey my love, you are okay. We are just fine. Everything will be all right, I am right here with you," he crooned in Russian, reaching for Shane's face, his heart crushing when Shane leaned into his touch.

"I just lost it. I didn't even go after Scott like that and he…" He let out a gut deep breath, tears starting to fall. "Fuck, I fucking hate myself."

"No," Ilya argued. "We hate Feldman because he's a dick. I hear what players say to you, everyone knows you don't react this way."

"It'll be an investigation for sure," the doctor agreed from his seat. Shane startled, probably having forgotten he was there. His hand came up to cover Ilya's tightly, still unused to being affectionate around others. "Everybody's saying it." He scrolled through his phone again. "Yeah, even players from other teams are defending you already. Hah! Porter says Feldman is a limp dick, third rate player with no sense of decorum. Gotta hurt from a former teammate."

Shane still groaned and tipped forward, his forehead thunking against Ilya's as he tended to do when stressed. Actually, he preferred to have his face pressed to Ilya's groin when it got this bad, but…later.

"I'm just…I'm gonna get dressed..clean up. Talk to coach. And I'll uhm…I'll tell him…fuck. What am I gonna say?" he whined.

"That you are sorry for losing your temper and will accept punishment."

Shane pulled back, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he waited for the punchline.

"No I am serious. That is what you will say because you are perfect golden boy and you are sorry."

Shane huffed. "I'm sorry I lost my temper, not that I hit him."

"Exactly. You say that. You tell your coach and the league what he said, and that's it. We move on. We play hockey."

A slight grin broke through, those pretty brown eyes still wet with tears that made Ilya want to rip someone's head off. Not helpful right now though.

"We play hockey," Shane echoed.

"We play motherfuckin' hockey!" the doctor repeated joyfully. Ilya shook his head at him but Shane actually let out a chuckle. Team doctors were so weird.

"You are okay?" Ilya asked Shane quietly, who sniffed and nodded. He leaned and Ilya met him for a kiss, chaste but sound. He let Shane pull away first.

After helping Shane out of his gear and into street clothes, they left the doctor and immediately found Thierault, the manager, owner, and a League rep right outside. Ilya felt Shane's sharp inhalation and grabbed his hand discreetly, squeezing it between them.

"Rozanov, I told you two minutes. What—?"

"I'm checking on my partner, that is all."

"Okay…okay I guess we do let wives do that…" Ilya rolled his eyes. "Hollander, we need to talk before you do any press."

"Okay. That's…" He cut a glance to Ilya. "Can you go tell my parents that I'm fine? I'll call them later?"

Ilya nodded, wishing he could kiss him, but squeezed his hand again instead.

"Of course. See you after."

*

 

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Press & Shane getting to bitch out the Metros like he deserves!

"I don't have anything to say about Hollander and Feldman," Hayden said to reporters. "I'm sure Hollander will give you a statement, I'm here to talk about the game…"

There was a sudden drop in chatter as everyone realized Shane had entered. He had to squeeze his hands against the prickle of awareness that skittered across his skin. Lights were flashing as they photographed his approach, and Shane forced himself to count to ten and back in Russian to self soothe. The silence was so sharp that a squeak from a chair nearly had him jolting in surprise. Thankfully Hayden clapped him on the shoulder and pulled his attention. He was moving from the press mark so Shane could take his place.

"You got this, man."

"Thanks Hayd."

He took in a deep breath and turned to face the crowd of press. Hands immediately shot up but he waved them off. Thierault came and stood beside him, earning everyone's attention.

"Hollander will give a general statement, answer two questions, and then all questions will be directed back to me."

He arched an impatient brow at Shane who nodded.

"There's not much to say," Shane started. "I lost my temper. That's unacceptable. Hockey is physical, but I was out of line. I'm sorry for that and intend to accept whatever consequences the League sees fit."

"Two questions!" Thierault emphasized. "Drake, you go."

"Hollander, other players are claiming they heard Feldman saying some nasty things to you throughout the game. What was it that set you off?"

Shane sniffed, worked his jaw.

"Let's just say that I've been playing hockey since I was 7 years old. I have heard…a lot. Some of it directed at me, most not. I've been called slurs my whole career, and I've never paid attention to it. Feldman took it too far and I'll leave it at that."

"Patrick, you."

"We noticed that you didn't drop your gloves. Feldman sustained significant facial injuries and a concussion. What was going through your mind out there?"

That I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to shut the fuck up. I wanted to shut them all up.

"Like I said, I lost my temper. I wasn't thinking clearly. That…that doesn't happen to me often so I can't really explain it more than that."

"Coach!" Someone called out. "Is Hollander going to be suspended for defending himself?" There was a hum of discontented agreement throughout the crowd. Which surprised him a little, considering he was the aggressor.

"Shane and I have spoken with management and the League. There will be an investigation into the fight and the events preceding it. The Metros are a physical team, but we do not condone outright, intentional violence. Hollander will be suspended for the last two games, pending an investigation, the play offs to be determined, and the League will take all of that into consideration when deciding on further punishment."

"Do you have anything to say about another player threatening one of your own with sexual violence because of his sexuality? There's been suggestion that there is a credible threat to both him and Rozanov off ice. What is the team doing to ensure Hollander's personal safety?"

Shane's hands throbbed and he felt his chest tighten against a wave of nausea. Thierault looked incredulous, like he'd made the threats himself and was being accused of something.

"There will be a full investigation," he snapped back. "We have not had any indication that any player's personal safety off the ice is at risk at this time."

"Hollander! One more question?"

He checked with Coach who scowled but nodded. Shane turned his attention back.

"Go ahead."

"Several of us heard Feldman threaten to kill both you and Ilya Rozanov. He was concussed, but coherent and very angry. Do you have any concerns about him going forward?"

Shane huffed through his nose and picked a spot in the crowd to focus on, narrowing his percpetion while he tried to get ahold of his temper, process what he wanted to say.

"I think…that before Feldman keeps running his mouth, he should remember he didn't get a swing in…And that I have a scary Russian boyfriend who likes a fight and hates his guts." There was a ripple of chuckles throughout the room. Shane put his hands to his hips. "I'm not concerned about Feldman. I can hold my own. But for everybody else: stick to a good chirp or shut up."

With that he walked off, ignoring calls for him to answer more questions. They all turned to Thierault, asking more follow ups about the investigation and the politics of it all. Shane kept his head down, kept walking back to the locker room, ignoring everything else. He felt bad about ignoring fans, but his hands were shaking, his head throbbing, and he was definitely going to be sick.

When he got back to the locker room, it was oddly quiet for a post-game, post-win scenario. Conversation dropped off when he entered and he booked it to his cubby. Hayden was sitting on the bench, obviously waiting for him. He clapped Shane on the arm.

"You did good, man."

"Obviously not," he discreetly tipped his head to the rest of the room.

"Fuck them. You couldn't let that slide."

"How bad?" Shane asked more quietly.

"They're not happy…think you're fucking our chances for a Cup run because of Rozanov."

Shane was shaking his head before he finished.

"That was not about Ilya."

"Well I know that, but you've never lost it like that. Except…"

Shane sighed and sat. "Except when Hunter—"

"Yeah. You do kinda lose it about Rozanov."

"Two fights in twelve years…You heard what Feldman said."

"I did. And fuck that guy, I hope his face is fully broken."

It didn't make him feel better. Hayden was always supportive, that was a given, and Shane loved him for it. But the rest of the team was clearly pissed off. They got into fights, got suspended, did stupid shit all the time, but now that it was about "Hollander's gay thing," suddenly it was crickets. No support. No back up. It was exactly the kind of spectacle Shane had dreaded from day one, and while his expectations from his team hadn't been high…they hadn't been this low either.

"Right." Shane nodded, processing. "But no round of applause because I'm the fag hogging the spotlight right?"

It went deathly quiet in the locker room. He felt every set of eyes on him, whether malicious or not it felt like he was dying. It felt like they wanted him dead.

"I'm not apologizing to you. Any of you. I've kept my mouth shut, I took my damn licks, I don't know what else I have to do to show you that absolutely nothing has changed since the day I was drafted. Day fucking one! I have shown up every single day for this team. I have always defended you. And the one time, the first fucking time, I need back up you let me take the heat alone. Fuck all of you."

He grabbed his bag and phone, slammed his locker shut. It made his skin crawl, but he'd shower at home, he wanted to leave.

"Good fucking luck playing without me because you're going to lose and everybody in this room fucking knows it!"

Someone tried to talk and JJ tried to approach him, but Shane put his head down and pushed through. They hated him. He thought they resented him, but now he knew. They hated him. He'd call Hayden later and apologize for being such a baby, but his feelings were hurt. His heart hurt. And he wasn't about to cry in front of those assholes.

Security got him out to the team lot, kept the reporters at bay. He was going to beeline for his car, call Ilya, but he was immediately distracted by the bright yellow Ferrari and the blond man leaning against it. He sagged.

"You waited."

"Of course I wait," he pushed off the car and held out his arms. Shane practically fell into him, shoved his face into Ilya's neck and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears. "You did well with the reporters."

"They hate me," Shane muttered. "Whole fucking team…not Hayd but—"

"They will get over it."

"I have to get off this team, Ilya," he said pulling back to look him in the eye. "It's just going to get worse. I can't handle it."

"You can handle anything, you are Shane Fucking Hollander." Ilya's hands came to his face roughly, holding him up. "But you don't have to. Not like this. Come to Ottawa."

"Ottawa."

"Yes. I need a good AC. Someone to help me get this team in shape."

"Assistant captain huh?"

"We could show them how it's done. A new challenge for you. Build a team, win some Cups. You will have to take a pay cut though because we are very bad right now."

"We could play together," Shane sniffled. "Fuck we could live together."

"We'll get sick of each other in a month."

"I won't. I've spent more time missing you than just getting to love you, so."

Ilya pulled his lips tight. "Mm. You will nag me to death." Shane shoved at him, unable to stop his smile and not breaking their hold on each other. "Seriously my ears will fall off from boring nagging about socks and wet towels."

"You might finally have a decent standard for hygiene you mean?"

"I have cleaning guy! That is his job!"

"How can you even rationalize putting wet towels in the hamper and leaving your socks on the floor? It makes no sense!"

"Makes perfect sense, socks are dry so floor is not wet. Towel is wet, can't go on the floor."

"Unbelievable."

"Come build a dynasty with me, Hollander," Ilya said, dropping his voice and tilting Shane's chin up. "Our team is very bad and very gay. We need more gay and less bad."

"Okay," Shane sighed, resigned to being annoyed.

"I think you are the most gay. Then maybe Barrett. I am third most."

"I am engaged to you. How are you third?"

"I still like boobs. You have great boobs."

"Pecs. I have pectoral muscles."

"Very nice for grabbing."

"Oh my god—"

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Obligatory social media response & Ilya being a menace in the comments

Post @MLHNewsSource✅️

Shane Hollander, Montreal Metros captain, suspended for final two games, possibly play offs, for violently attacking center Bentley Feldman of Detroit Red Wings mid-game. Feldman in IR for remainder of the season due to a concussion and broken eye socket. Stay tuned for updates about further sanctions and fines.

Comments

@Hollandaisy24: uhhh.."violently"?? And no mention of Feldman's blatantly bigoted BS? No call out about the Metros throwing Hollander to the wolves for defending himself? Could you be more biased?

@ShollanderFan1 reply @Hollandaisy24: Right!? Do they think we don't know how homophobic the league is?

@WingersFan2227: Hollander should be sanctioned and cut. Disgusting behavior. Typical.

@hockey!dork reply @wingersfan2227: Typical for what exactly??

—-Reply reported and deleted

@CensLuv45: Fuck the Red Wings! They should be sanctioning Feldman for hate speech, not blaming Hollander

@WingersFan2227: replay @CensLuv45: Cens fans suck Hollanders dick too huh

—Reply reported and deleted

 

Retweet @JJboiz✅️:

Hollander is 10x the player and man Feldman could ever dream of being. Wings might have a chance at being an okay team now that he's out.

❤️ @SHollanderhockey, @yunahollander, @haydpike, @ilyaroz, @ScottHunter, @VaughnCart, 33276 others

Comments:

@SHollanderhockey✅️: Thanks JJ, see you tomorrow

@ilyaroz✅️: Finally, a Metro making sense

@SHollanderhockey✅️ reply @ilyaroz: We make plenty of sense, your English is just bad.

@LuvMyMetros: This is awesome, but it would be awesome to see something from the actual team, right??

@MetrosFanClub✅️ reply @LuvMyMetros: The team doesn't have to comment about everybody's personal situation.

@LuvMyMetros reply @MetrosFanClub: This situation is very obviously TEAM and GAME related. What's not clicking?

—Reply reported and deleted

Retweet @ScottHunter✅️:

Shane Hollander is one of the greatest players this league has ever seen. He is an incredible guy on and off the ice. He is kind, compassionate, and generous. And I've been on the receiving end of that right hook so I would know that Feldman absolutely deserved it.

❤️ @yunahollander, @haydpike, @jjboiz, @svetapet @haasy12, @TBarr9, @MaChou77, @boodyboi, @VaughnCart, @Marly3000, @OttawaCentaursOfficial, @hardrove, @AdmiralsOfficial, @SHollanderhockey, @ilyaroz, @kipayee, 109567 others

Comments

@SHollanderhockey✅️: Love you Scott

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @SHollanderhockey: Not as much as you love me

@ilyaroz✅️: Shane loves you like elderly uncle in old home he has to visit on holidays

@ScottHunter✅️ reply @ilyaroz: did you miss your nap rozy? I hear that makes toddlers cranky…

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @ScottHunter: everyone is a toddler compared to you

@ScottHunter✅️ reply @ilyaroz: Moody, can't share, attention span of a goldfish? It fits, just saying. And I think we all know what your favorite pacifier is—

❤️ @Marly3000, @svetapet, @haydpike, @VaughnCart, @haasy12, @TBarr9, @boodyboi, @hardrove, @chopi77, and 465 others

@PuckMeGood reply @ScottHunter: My favorite part about this comment is that sooo many players liked it 😂😂

@Marly3000 reply @ScottHunter: Never seen a guy more whipped in my life #FreeRozy 😂

@SHollanderHockey reply @Marly3000: I'm returning your Christmas gift. It was imported too

@Marly3000 reply @SHollanderHockey: NOOOOOOO i take it back, i take it back!

@SHollanderHockey✅️ reply @ScottHunter: ffs scott

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @SHollanderHockey: No, no let him have it. Last rights of dying man, let him go peacefully and proud

@ScottHunter✅️ reply @ilyaroz: I am literally 3 years older than you.

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @ScottHunter: An antique, yes I know.

@RozyFanClub: I don't know what's better, the inter-team support or the comment section chirping

@LuvMyAds reply @RozyFanClub: *flirting

@lifeofahockeygirl: Anybody else notice the absolute crickets from the Metros? Wtf @MetrosOfficial??

@GaydenPike: Gays supporting gays ftw!

@boodyboi: Our captain has top shelf taste, mucho love Hollzy

@TBarr9: We are the only team in the League who has a pristine poster of @SHollanderHockey in the locker room unironically #legend

@MaChou7 reply @TBarr9: I didn't think kissing it for good luck was necessary, but if it works it works!

@SHollanderHockey✅️ reply @MaChou7: You do WHAT???

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @MaChou7: why must you make my life difficult? What did I do to you?

@boodyboi reply @SHollanderHockey: cap's the only one who ACTUALLY kisses it, just tbc

@RozyFanClub reply @boodyboi: This is literally everything to me. Bless you Boodram 🙏🙏

@Hockey4Life: I miss the days when hockey was about hockey and not this gay crap

@ScottHunter✅️ reply to @Hockey4Life: We also miss when hockey was about hockey instead of jerks making it personal and ruining a good game.

❤️ @SHollanderHockey, @haydpike, @ilyaroz, @svetapet, @Marly3000, @VaughnCart, @jjboiz, @AdmiralsOfficial, 6053 others

@HoldmeRozer reply @lifeofahockeygirl: Hollander should just come to Ottawa, it's so gay here. And nobody would say shit to him with Rozy around

@lifeofahockeygirl reply @HoldmeRozer: Please, please, please somebody make this happen! @ilyaroz @OfficialCens @CityofOttawa @yunahollander ??

@OfficialCens✅️ reply @lifeofahockeygirl: Don't tease us like this!

@CityofOttawa✅️ reply @lifeofahockeygirl: From your lips to god's ears 🙏🙏

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @HoldmeRozer: Great minds think alike 😉

@hardrove✅️ reply @ilyaroz: I am begging you to NOT

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @hardrove: already done, the fans say it not me. I am innocent

@HoldmeRozer reply@hardrove: #FreeRozy

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @hardrove: See? Free meeeee

@OfficialCens✅️: There has been absolutely no discussion of a trade regarding Shane Hollander, all commentary is purely speculation. Shane Hollander remains under contract with the Montreal Metros.

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @OfficialCens: boooo

@SHollanderHockey✅️ reply @ilyaroz: I am under contract with the Metros.

@lifeofahockeygirl reply @SHollanderHockey: not denying it, not denying it!

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @lifeofahockeygirl: 🤫

@lifeofahockeygirl reply @ilyaroz: 🤐

@ilyaroz✅️: shhhh 🤫, all fans come to my page and vote on my poll to tell @OfficialCens that @SHollanderHockey should come to Ottawa….QUIETLY

@ScottHunter✅️ reply @ilyaroz: I do not condone this on my page.

@ilyaroz✅️ reply @ScottHunter: But how did you vote??

@ScottHunter✅️ reply @ilyaroz: ….