Summary:

All told he got into a couple scraps a year, but nothing to write home about – he didn’t instigate, he didn’t go too far. He kept his head level and focused on what it needed to be focused on: winning the game. Sure, one time he almost punched Scott Hunter’s lights out after a game, but whatever – he was emotionally compromised then, sue him. Mostly everyone assumed that was a weird blip and let it go, and he and Scott maintained enough professional friendliness at league events that everyone figured it wasn’t personal, which it wasn’t.

All of that to say that the more and more the media went on about Hockey’s Golden Boy, the more people forgot that Shane was, at the end of the day, just like any other professional hockey player. He knew how to throw a fucking punch. He just chose not to, most times, for strategic reasons.

It became apparent that people had forgotten this very key fact almost immediately after he joined the Centaurs.

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Or: Shane Hollander: full-time lover, part-time fighter.