the penalty box

list of new hockey rules i'd put in place if i ran the nhl

•everyone who goes to the penalty box has to wear a dunce cap for the duration of the penalty

•if the goalie gets the puck in his glove, he should be allowed to try to carry it down to the other end of the rink and throw it into the other goal

•if you pull the goalie your 6th man has to be the mascot

•if 2 players hold hands while one commits a penalty, the other is allowed to go to the box (and wear the dunce cap) for him

•instead of shootouts, there’s a sudden death figure skating competition between the two teams’ captains. if the captain is injured or sick, then this task may be delegated to one of his As

•consistent goalie interference rules lol

•if wayne gretzky attends a game, he is allowed to dress in a plain black jersey and come on the ice. he’s not playing for either team, he’s just there to shake things up

•intermissions will be filled by a pet show of the players’ dogs

Tonight I was working in the penalty box at my brother’s hockey game when one of the guys from the opposing team got a tripping penalty. So, as my job requires I have to get his jersey number so I can record it and put it up on the score board with his penalty. I asked him for his number and…well…he gave it to me. His phone number

Poor kid went beet red after I explained I meant his jersey number, not his phone number. I talked to him after the game to make sure he was all good and such, and he said, oh my god, “keep the number, just in case you’re ever looking for anything besides a jersey number.”

Smooth as fuck.

Thoughts of a Hockey Penalty Box Attendant

  • ‘Get a job in the NHL they said, it’ll be fun they said, fuckin’ lied though didn’t they.’
  • 'Here comes our first prisone–I mean player.’
  • 'Why do you guys have to hit the glass with your sticks? Why? You could poke an eye out.’
  • 'Oh no, no no no, not the camera– damnit, we just got a new one.’
  • 'How many times is this guy gonna get a penalty.’
  • 'Oh great, here comes another one. Joy.’
  • 'Okay guys, I’m running out of roo- okay honestly, I have no where to sit now.’
  • 'Ew, I just stepped in some sort of bodily fluid.’
  • 'Just once I’d like to see a fan come in the box circa Tie Domi. Just once.’
  • 'It’s a good thing there’s no hot mics in here. A sailor would blush after hearing some of this shit.’
  • 'Can–can you not try to continue the fight while in the pout palace? You’re basically in a glass case of emotion and no one can hear you but me.’
  • 'I will either go deaf from players yelling or fans. Probs both.’
  • 'I am the keeper of the bad children and I alone can release them from their prison.’

Non-hockey Check Please fans… ya’ll kno the Sin Bin (fine buckets) is named after the penalty box in hockey right? Like it’s not just a casual choice? It’s the affectionate name for the penalty box? In hockey? Which is one of the central parts of this comic? The angry ice knife game whose fratty culture in central to the themes of said comic?

NHL!Bitty - Origin: From Samwell to Seattle

(I haven’t posted any of my background stuff on how Bitty gets from Samwell to the Schooners, so here’s my bullet point breakdown of how/when/why)

Part I - Hug Check | Part II - Chirping | Part III - Post-Season


- Senior year, Bitty is the first openly gay NCAA captain of any men’s sport. When Samwell wins the Frozen Four, commentators start speculating on him being a draft prospect. Jack isn’t out yet.

- ‘Get Bittle in the NHL’ goes viral as an equality issue and the NHL is under pressure to recruit him, which creates this divisive ‘is he really good enough to play’/’the league is homophobic’ situation among fans and within the NHL.

- Bitty gets a lot of heat from all sides and Jack is really worried about his bf, who is living every coming-out fear Jack’s ever had. The Falcs can’t recruit Bitty because Jack has already disclosed their relationship to management, so Jack can’t protect Bitty.

- Things go downhill quickly after a hacker leaks a series of emails between the Commissioner and several owners, wherein he says an AHL franchise needs to ‘take one for the team’ and recruit Bittle so the NHL won’t have to deal with the ‘problem’ anymore. 

- The league course-corrects hard and is bending over backward to get Bitty to sign off on their official apology, but Bitty is disgusted by the whole process and doesn’t want to participate in the draft just to make the league look better. He isn’t planning to go pro at all, and now he’s hesitant to move to Providence with Jack, concerned that he might accidentally out Jack and land him with the same PR problems. 

- Bitty goes back to Georgia the summer after he graduates. 

- After things calm down a bit, Bitty gets a call from the new Schooners owner, a progressive tech billionaire who hates the NHL commissioner and genuinely wants to sell Bitty on Seattle. Unsure of himself and his relationship, Bitty agrees to the meeting… 

- And surprise! Bitty loves Seattle, the team, the ownership group, the food, everything. Even less of a surprise, the team loves Bitty and offers him a two-year contract with an option for renewal.

- The distance hurts, but it actually makes things easier because the risk of Jack being outed is much less if he’s not sharing an apartment with Bitty.  

- Bitty understands now why Jack needs to prove himself before he comes out, the same way Bitty needs to prove himself now. Jack deserves that buffer, and Bitty can help in his own small way.

- At the same time, after seeing how Bitty was treated Jack doesn’t want to come out until his boyfriend is established enough that he won’t be remembered as ‘that gay hockey player’ or ‘Jack Zimmermann’s boyfriend’. They’re just two dumb boys looking out for each other. They agree to revisit coming out together after Bitty’s two-year contract ends.

- Bitty’s rookie year is a hell of an adjustment, he billets with d-man called Carter Morin who is a year younger than Bitty but still has three pro seasons under his belt. Carter is convinced Bitty will be a target because of his size and sexuality, so he becomes obsessed with teaching Bitty how to ‘defend’ himself. This basically boils down to lessons in ‘how to play dirty and not get caught’.

- During these lessons, Bitty realizes he has a lot of anger he’s not dealing with. He’s pissed about being marginalized by the league, the press that won’t stay out of his and Jack’s business, he’s pissed he can’t publicly be with his boyfriend, he’s furious WBC are planning to picket his first home game. He has years of repressed southern rage and he doesn’t have to play nice to make bad people feel good. Not anymore.

- Off the ice Bitty is a perfect gentleman, does tons of outreach, fundraising, he visits hospitals and coaches day-camps, after that first season he’s a fan favorite, but on the ice Bitty slowly becomes a living embodiment of ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’; he’s a good player, everyone knows it, but now he’s absolutely ruthless and spends his fair share of time in the penalty box, initially for defending himself, later for defending others. 

- During a particularly aggressive Schooners game, a commentator jokingly describes a post-fight Bitty as Bob’s spiritual successor, coining the term ‘Bad Bittle’. Bob is elated, Jack is horrified.

- Bitty ultimately makes friends on the team, builds a following, and becomes an integral part in building Seattle’s fledgling franchise into a championship team.

- Schooners take the cup in Bitty’s second year and Jack is surprisingly okay with his boyfriend getting a ring before him, it means they’re one step closer to being untouchable

- The Falconers dethrone the Schooners the following season and win the championship. Jack and Bitty come out/marry on Jack’s cup day. They don’t wear wedding bands, they wear their cup rings.

Things Hockey Fans are tired of Hearing

  • “We need to put pucks in the net.” No really? I thought you scored by throwing the puck over the net.
  • “Lower/Upper body injury.” The most vague description in the world.
  • “The goalie is going to want that goal back.” Damn commentator, back at it again with the obvious statements.
  • “That’s not a penalty you want to take.” Goddamnit guys, why didn’t you get a different penalty.
  • “They win and lose as a team.” Tell that to the media who is currently blaming the goalie and maybe one other guy.
  • “That’s a goal you score when you’re the teams goal-scorer.” Brilliant Dr. Obvious, may I have another?
  • “They need to score another goal.” Do you hear that guys? YOU NEED TO SCORE ANOTHER GOAL.
  • “They need to play their game.” Alright guys, I know you wanted to play the Bruins game but tough shit, we’re the Caps.
  • “They need to stay healthy.” Well I’ll be, who knew injuries were bad for a team.
  • “You just won the cup, how do you feel?” Like I would still rather be anywhere in the world but standing here with you Pierre.
  • “The game is on his stick” that’s a puck
  • “A penalty is gonna be called, what’s it gonna be?” Friggen wait 15 seconds, they’ll announce it.
  • “Why are they fighting?” 10 grown ass testosterone riddled men are chasing a small piece of rubber.
  • “They need a win here.” How lovely, we are no longer in need of a loss. We’re fully stocked on those guys.
  • “Going between the benches with Pierre McGuire.” Oh my God, this silence is so blessed.
  • “He shoots top shelf where momma hides the cookies.” My mom hid the cookies at the store.
  • “He beat him like a rented mule.” Hi ASPCA, I need to report some animal abuse.
  • “He’s not helping his team in the penalty box.” He’s not helping out of it either to be fair.
this is you.

You’re 18, and starting over is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. You thought that breathing wouldn’t be something you’d have to learn all over again, but it is. It’s like as soon as you stopped on that bathroom floor, even just for a few minutes–it’s like you forgot how. Every time you inhale, it’s a conscious decision. One that you’re barely sure that you want to make. It rattles painfully through you like your lungs have rusted over, broken-down gears in a machine that doesn’t work anymore. You don’t know if they can be fixed, if you even want them to be. You breathe anyway. You’re 18, and this hospital room is too cold, and a nurse gently asks you if you know why you’re here. You do. You’re here because when you were 10, you felt like you weren’t good enough, and when you were 15, you felt terrified, when you were 17, you felt overwhelmed, and when you were 18, you didn’t want to feel at all. You don’t say any of this to the nurse. You nod instead. She continues to talk, but you don’t pay attention, instead letting your eyes drift over to the newspaper on the table next to your bed, open to the sports section. You’ve read the headline a few hundred times by now. You read it again, just in case it’s changed. It hasn’t yet. Maybe next time. You’re 18, and as you settle back against your pillow, you think about what your mom said, about taking a break. No hockey for a while. You consider it, and you can’t decide if it would be more like cutting off a limb or removing a tumor. You think there’s only one way to find out. — You’re 19, and by now you’re used to how the parents look at you when they think you don’t see. It’s never exactly a look of contempt. More morbid curiosity, even fascination. Like you’re a zoo animal, something to be gawked at for a few hours each week and talked about briefly under their breath so the kids can’t hear. You don’t know what they’re trying to see. Do they think you’re hiding something? That you have a stash of blow in your duffel bag? That if they can catch you at just the right time, they’ll see you shooting up right there on the ice? Fuck them, you decide. You have a job to do here, and it’s a good job. The kids call you Coach Z, just Z, and they let you forget there’s any letters beyond that one. You help Eli with his speed and Julie with her accuracy, and you don’t look outside the rink. Whenever the kids win a game, they mob you afterwards, fight to get in closer to you, and it feels good. They either don’t know or don’t care. To them, you’re just Coach Z. For now, that’s all you want to be. — You’re 21, and it’s just your third game at Samwell when a massive D-man from Harvard slams into you from behind. A penalty is called immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re facedown on the ice, dazed, and your ribs ache like hell. As the D-man skates to the penalty box, you can hear the sneer in his voice. “Heard you liked snow more than ice, boy wonder.” Another coke joke. Original, you think dryly. There’s a medic skating toward you. You can get up on your own, but he insists on taking you back to the locker room to check out your ribs. As he’s finishing up (some bruises, but nothing broken), Shitty enters the locker room with a second medic. He’s walking gingerly. You ask him what happened. “I went for the guy that went for you. Didn’t work out great for me,” he says, sitting next to you on the bench with a wince. You stare at him, temporarily dumbfounded. You ask why. He’s your teammate, he tells you. And your friend. Right? You look at him, this skinny younger kid with shaggy hair and a mustache half-grown in and ribs quickly becoming an abstract painting in shades of purple, and you realize he’s probably the closest thing to a friend you’ve got. You hold out a fist, and he bumps it gently. “Got your back, brother,” Shitty says. Yeah. Got your back. — You’re 23, and you have a problem. More precisely, a short, blond problem. With a penchant for baking. It’s not that Bitty’s not talented. He’s fast, and he’s got good hands. But if he can’t take a check on the ice, he’s never going to be a good player. You like solving problems. So that’s why you thought this was a good idea. But now, as you stare down at Bitty, who’s curled up on the ice, trembling, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, you start to have some doubts. The thing is, you recognize that look in his eyes. That fear. You’ve been there before. And you don’t want to leave anyone there, not if you can help it. So you set your mouth into a firm line and order him to get up. You check him, just softly and slowly so he won’t be so scared. And you do it again. And again. And again. By the end of practice, he’s still shaking. But he’s not curled up on the ice any more. You decide that’s enough of a win for today. You learned to embrace little victories years ago. — You’re 24, and you’re outside your new apartment, and you already miss them so much it hurts. You don’t remember what it’ll be like again tomorrow, waking up without Shitty just a bathroom away. You can’t imagine coming home and not finding Holster on your couch, yelling about…Buffy, or Liz Lemon, or whoever is the star of whatever he’s watching. You can’t think of coming home and not having the kitchen table smell like Ransom’s highlighters, or hearing Dex and Nursey argue a room away, or hear Chowder’s workout playlists blasting from the basement. But you have to, don’t you? You have to unlock this door, sit on the nice new furniture you picked out with your mom, open your fridge that won’t be full of mold and too many bottles of Sriracha. And in the morning you’ll have to drive yourself down to the rink, shake hands with the administrative team, meet a few of the guys. And though your team–you can’t stop thinking of them as your team, even if your last game together was months ago–isn’t here, you know that they’re on your side. Especially Bitty. You’re still scared about…this, this thing you have with him. Not of how you feel. You’re sure of that. But of fucking it up. Because you know, deep down, he is one of the best things that’s happened to you in a long time. It’s a risk. But you figured out ages ago that some risks are worth taking. — You’re 27, and you’re tired of hiding. Really, if they ask you later why you did it, that’s what you’ll say. It’s mental exhaustion more than anything that makes you let it slip. You’re just tired–tired of having to hold back truths and substitute incorrect pronouns–and when you mention offhandedly in a post-loss interview that you just want to go home to see your boyfriend, well. That’s it. You’re just tired. For a moment, all five reporters are silent, then they start buzzing like wasps, interrogating you, demanding you tell them the things they shouldn’t have the right to know about anyway. You refuse to go into detail. The assistant managers will probably be pissed, but you think George will get it. She’s known for so long. You go home, and you see your boyfriend, and neither of you turns on the TV. You know it won’t exactly be smooth sailing ahead. There’ll be press conferences, and interviews, and even more scrutiny, and a whole farm’s worth of assorted bullshit. But when you’re holding him that night, you don’t doubt that it’s worth it. Because you’re 27, and you’re too in love to care. And soon enough, you’ll be more. You’ll be 28, 35, 67. Married, a father, a grandpapa. And your life will be messy, and joyful, and so goddamn worth it. You’re going to be glad you decided to keep breathing. You’re you, and starting over is the best thing you ever had to do.

NHL!Bitty, Part X - Body Issue(s)

ESPN Magazine comes calling. Eric makes a creative choice. Jack gets excited.

NHL!Bitty Masterpost!


Cold. Colder. Freezing.

“The Body Issue, Bits. You can’t turn this down, and if I did it for you, you have to do it for me.”

Actually, a three-hour naked photoshoot on ice is definitely something he can turn down, but he promised Jack he would participate if asked. Granted, it was a sleep-deprived, post-coital promise, but a promise just the same. 

A copy of the spread from Jack’s issue is already tastefully hung in the master bathroom of his townhouse. Eric will have to get his framed to match.

It’s not about the nudity, except, maybe it is a little bit, but he’s worked hard to get his body to look this good. His ass may never be in the same arena as Jack’s magnificent backside, but hell, if the whole world got to ogle Jack, why can’t Eric get some love, too? 

Keep reading

don’t call it a romance

I just can’t let go of the fic idea where Geno takes all of the penalties because Sid is the penalty box attendant. Here is another version of it!


The first time it happens, Greg-the-penalty-box-attendant, says, “Sarah, my sitter just canceled, I have to fucking leave. I’m so sorry,” and Sarah-the-ice-crew-manager exclaims, “But you have the box tonight!”

Sidney, on his way to the locker room to talk to some of the guys before the game starts, happens to be walking by at this moment (slowly and on crutches), and can’t help but overhear. In his infinite wisdom—and, suffering from a broken foot that’s been encased in a cast for too long already and is all the motivation he needs, really—Sidney offers, “I could do it?”

Sarah and Greg turn to stare at him as if he’s gone completely bonkers.

Keep reading

Hockey Fan Starter Kit

  1. Chose a team, doesn’t matter which one, you’ll be called a bandwagoner regardless.
  2. Prepare yourself for at least 10 mental breakdowns, 50 if your team is in the playoffs.
  3. Don’t try the understand the calls because the refs are blind and the rules are a more like guidelines.
  4. Get yourself a beer or wine or any other drink you can turn to when the game infuriates you.
  5. It’s called a penalty box, but I call it a pout palace.
  6. Don’t expect to understand what goalie interference is. It’s like big foot; it might exists but you never see it.
  7. Like goalie interference, offsides is called when its pulled from the ‘stupid reason to blow the play dead’ hat.
  8. You boo Bettman. Doesn’t matter when, where, or what he’s doing - you boo. He feeds of it, like an unpopular hockey vampire.
  9. Pierre McGuire is the Hermione of the hockey world; very smart and educated but occasionally overshares.
  10. Phil Kessel is a stanley cup champion and that’s the only thing you need to know.
  11. Goalies are precious and have never done a single thing wrong. Love them, they’re marshmellow optimus primes.
  12. Fighting isn’t fighting, unless fights are classified as hugging matches to see can squeeze the hardest.
  13. Mike Millbury is the white crayon of hockey; no one wants him and no one cares about what he does.
  14. Don’t throw your jersey onto the ice, it’s rude and (unless you got a small loan of one million dollars from your dad) expensive.
  15. The bond between tendy and defendy is v. strong. Don’t question it.
  16. Finally, have fun. Shit talk other teams, be a die hard fan but don’t be a dick. We already have one Steve Simmons, we don’t need another.
Bob collects terrible photos of Jack

Weird faces in the penalty-box? Laughing at a bad joke? Sneezing fit on the Falconers bench? That one time Jack scratched his face and it looked he was picking his nose? 

Bob hoards those candid moments like a dragon hoards treasure because he never wants to frame another picture where a photographer had to ask Jack to smile.

anonymous asked:

tell us about holster when he played for the schooners!

oh my god. thank you. i will literally talk about this anytime, anywhere.

his nickname is holt and sometimes holtzy and he’s actually SO RIDICULOUS. people don’t really know what to think about him because in postgame interviews he’s grumpy and pretty serious and like, obviously tired with 0% patience to talk to reporters who ask him the same question over and over and over again

but

the schooners have an AMAZING social media presence - think the canadiens youtube videos and the snapchat of the detriot redwings. people get to know the players incredibly well, and holster goes from this grumpy rookie to this lovable dork who DESTROYS at movie trivia and is always singing in the background of snapchats from practice. they mic him up during a game and it’s pretty much him singing ‘under pressure’ and quoting TV shows.

greatest hits include:

  • from it’s always sunny in philadelphia:
    • “I don’t know how many more seasons in the NHL I’ve got left. I’m gonna get weird with it.”
      • people get real emo about this one after he’s injured
    • ”It’s like, do I listen to the linesman who’s gonna blast me in the ass, or the referee who’s blasting my ass?” 
    • after a check: “wildcard!”  
    • on his way to the penalty box: “later, boners.”
  • from the office:
    • when he’s asked a particularly stupid question after a game: “wow, i wish i had prepared something to say. god guide you in your quest”
    • “Ref, you ignorant slut”
    • when a penalty is reversed: “how the turntables”
  • from arrested development:
    • at various points throughout his career “steve holt!”
    • once again during an interview: “I don’t understand the question and I won’t respond to it.”
      • this is his crowning achievement.

there’s a youtube video of him that’s called “every time birkholtz looks into the camera like he’s on the office” and it’s a beautifully edited compilation of game footage and sure enough he does the jim face when he’s sitting in the penalty box, before face offs, when he’s on the bench, literally ALL THE TIME. no one knows how he always manages to track the camera

tumblr loves him. i don’t make the rules ok. he’s always quoting tv shows and musicals and grows up literally in front of people and i’m not saying ransom has a sideblog dedicated to him but he honestly might 

hockey asks
  1. Favorite team?
  2. Second favorite team?
  3. Team you love to hate?
  4. Team you just hate?
  5. Team you think is the best in the league right now?
  6. Top three players on your favorite team?
  7. Top three players NOT on your favorite team?
  8. Three players you like on teams you can’t stand?
  9. Players you hate on teams you like?
  10. Prettiest uniforms?
  11. Best venue?
  12. Best hair?
  13. Best body?
  14. Best eyes?
  15. Best shot?
  16. Best goaltender?
  17. Favorite line?
  18. Dream line (mix and match players from teams)?
  19. Head-to-head matchup you’d most want to see?
  20. Most overrated?
  21. Most underrated?
  22. Prettiest goal you ever saw?
  23. Worst/best hit you ever saw?
  24. Who on your team is:
    1. Eternal  Sunshine?
    2. Team Dad?
    3. Team Mom?
    4. Team Baby/Babies?
    5. The class clown?
    6. The quiet one?
    7. The serious one?
    8. The hothead?
  25. Player on the feeder team you most want to get called up?
  26. Player who’s always scratched who ought to be played more?
  27. Player who always plays who ought to be scratched more?
  28. Best duo?
  29. OTP?
  30. OT3+?
  31. Rarepair?
  32. Guy you want desperately to slash but can’t for some reason (Married, no good pair, etc.)
  33. Guy who is (or should be) the fandom/team bicycle?
  34. Player you most wish would get traded to your team?
  35. Player you most wish would get traded to another team?
  36. Most likely to be in the penalty box at any moment?
  37. Most likely to send another player to the penalty box?
  38. Gets away with murder award (never gets penalties but should)?
  39. Just has a guilty face award (gets penalties but shouldn’t)?
  40. Nicest guy on the team?
  41. Best with fans?
  42. Best with the press?
  43. Hockey robot award (can’t say anything but “get pucks to the net” in front of a camera)?
  44. Most likely to be photographed with small children?
  45. Most likely to be photographed with small animals?
  46. Most likely to be photographed shirtless in a hot tub with starlets?
  47. Most likely to cry at movies?
  48. Most likely to get in bar fights unrelated to hockey?
  49. Most likely to have Mafia ties?
  50. Rising star award?
  51. Most improved award?