Summary:

“Hollander has a fire lit up under them,” Wiebe agrees, but it isn’t quite enough just yet. They weren’t pushing just to score, they were pushing to widen the gap as much as they could. “He’s fast,” Rozanov taps his temple. “And has very sharp eye for openings. Very smart with his movements,” “I’d be weeping if I had someone like that drafted from my team,” “All I am hearing is that you would make sure Hollander retires in this team,” Wiebe smirks, “Maybe after a Stanley Cup or two,” Shane finally goes toe to toe with Montreal under Ottawa's flag. The rookies are scared shitless, and his old team looks worse for wear. It breaks his heart, but there can only be one who holds the Stanley Cup. It wasn't going to be the Metros.