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2minsforslashing2008-07-01 05:02 pm
eggybread.livejournal.com) wrote in 2minsforslashing2008-07-01 05:02 pm
Tetralogy. Or, "If you....ANYTHING with Chris Osgood I swear I will kill you myself, Ty Conklin"
title: A Moving Day
involves: Marc-André Fleury/Ty Conklin
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: UFA Day is real. Pain is real. Sadness and disappointment and loneliness are real. What I see from it, is still in my head. I see what I want to see from what I don't want to see.
notes: Please, continue crushing my dreams, Detroit. By all means. You do certainly know your talent.
This was actually written yesterday.
July 1 is Moving Day in Montréal. All of the leases expire and there's chaos in the streets as people try to make their way from one place to another, carting their lives, their baggage, even large appliances with them. Movers make a killing. It's a crazy decision to arrange for such a large exodus entirely on the same day, but that's the way it is; it won't be changing anytime soon.
Or so I'm told.
I mean, I'm not from Montréal; I'm from fucking 'sti d'Sorel, where no one ever goes anywhere.
Except me, I suppose.
Right now I sit here and I look at myself in the sweater of another team because that's what he's left me with.
His fucking Oilers jersey.
"You'd be one of very few people who wants to even recall I was there," is what the note said, even though it's not like it's the one from the Carolina game. It's blue, not white, and there's no Cup patch. "I know where I was."
He was wearing 29 then, too, switched from 1. Funny, Ty. --"Not funny, Marc," how many times did you tell me? -- but I suppose it just happens that it coincides with his worst time there; the hockey gods have interesting senses of humour too.
Why not from the Penguins? I think he knows me better than that -- he damn fucking better well know me better than that -- knows I don't want to see his name or 35 anywhere near a black or a white or a gold or a fucking blue skating penguin anytime soon. (I'm pretending Barrasso never fucking existed, Ty, you hear me?)
I know he was here. I don't need to see his sweater to know everything he did here. Every single damn thing he did while he wore it, even if I'm wishing I could forget half of it right now.
"Dany, Dany could've gone anywhere; anywhere else and we would still be friends, but you....you're just going to leave. I could have said something to Ray, but you didn't even want to try to stay, did you."
"Marc, I had to go. It wasn't a choice I wanted to make."
Did you? There?
Back and forth from the minors, fucking Hartford, even, what did you feel that year, even before it all came crashing down?
You're telling me people move on, change teams, have to, though I wouldn't know that? I won't know that, not for years and years, though someday I might be somewhere else, too? Change teams and remain...what?
"I'm going home next month for a few days before camp starts. Come and see me then. If you want to."
"What, in Anchorage?"
"I think you can afford the plane fare." He smiled. "You can stay with my parents. Or not. My brother would flip out."
"Your-"
"Yeah. Sid. My little goalie brother. The one at Shattuck."
"It gets dark there then?"
"Yeah, it gets dark." He turned his head to the side; I couldn't tell where he was looking. "Yeah. Anchorage in August is pretty much like any place else." He looked back at me. "You'll still be there for the tourists."
I looked down, rested my forehead on the side of my fist. "I don't know...I don't know. Why the hell exactly do I want to see you again?"
"I said 'if you want to'. You might understand things better. And things change whether you come or not, so you could at least have a few more days before you go back to despising me for the forseeable future."
"I don't despise you. I want to kill you, but I don't despise you."
I've got shorts on. I don't have a shirt. Compared to what you usually wear with this, I'm basically naked. And no one, no one is ever, ever going to see me wearing it.
Maybe I'll bring it to Alaska and throw it back in his face.
He left his old black and gold pads by the back door, and those are harder to throw. Gloves are pretty painful, though, if you catch one in the head.
"Marc, I love you." He pulled me in close and held on, and I hated his guts and wished he wouldn't let go. Can we just stand there till training camp starts? "I really, really love you."
Being inside this jersey is not the same.
I look different, I feel...adrift. I've got Bob Dylan stuck in my head. To be on your own, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone, how does it feel, baby, how does it feel?
"Yes, you stupid bastard. That's why this hurts."
I don't care where he goes, if I don't let him go, then he's still mine.
à suivre (to be Continued)
involves: Marc-André Fleury/Ty Conklin
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: UFA Day is real. Pain is real. Sadness and disappointment and loneliness are real. What I see from it, is still in my head. I see what I want to see from what I don't want to see.
notes: Please, continue crushing my dreams, Detroit. By all means. You do certainly know your talent.
This was actually written yesterday.
July 1 is Moving Day in Montréal. All of the leases expire and there's chaos in the streets as people try to make their way from one place to another, carting their lives, their baggage, even large appliances with them. Movers make a killing. It's a crazy decision to arrange for such a large exodus entirely on the same day, but that's the way it is; it won't be changing anytime soon.
Or so I'm told.
I mean, I'm not from Montréal; I'm from fucking 'sti d'Sorel, where no one ever goes anywhere.
Except me, I suppose.
Right now I sit here and I look at myself in the sweater of another team because that's what he's left me with.
His fucking Oilers jersey.
"You'd be one of very few people who wants to even recall I was there," is what the note said, even though it's not like it's the one from the Carolina game. It's blue, not white, and there's no Cup patch. "I know where I was."
He was wearing 29 then, too, switched from 1. Funny, Ty. --"Not funny, Marc," how many times did you tell me? -- but I suppose it just happens that it coincides with his worst time there; the hockey gods have interesting senses of humour too.
Why not from the Penguins? I think he knows me better than that -- he damn fucking better well know me better than that -- knows I don't want to see his name or 35 anywhere near a black or a white or a gold or a fucking blue skating penguin anytime soon. (I'm pretending Barrasso never fucking existed, Ty, you hear me?)
I know he was here. I don't need to see his sweater to know everything he did here. Every single damn thing he did while he wore it, even if I'm wishing I could forget half of it right now.
"Dany, Dany could've gone anywhere; anywhere else and we would still be friends, but you....you're just going to leave. I could have said something to Ray, but you didn't even want to try to stay, did you."
"Marc, I had to go. It wasn't a choice I wanted to make."
Did you? There?
Back and forth from the minors, fucking Hartford, even, what did you feel that year, even before it all came crashing down?
You're telling me people move on, change teams, have to, though I wouldn't know that? I won't know that, not for years and years, though someday I might be somewhere else, too? Change teams and remain...what?
"I'm going home next month for a few days before camp starts. Come and see me then. If you want to."
"What, in Anchorage?"
"I think you can afford the plane fare." He smiled. "You can stay with my parents. Or not. My brother would flip out."
"Your-"
"Yeah. Sid. My little goalie brother. The one at Shattuck."
"It gets dark there then?"
"Yeah, it gets dark." He turned his head to the side; I couldn't tell where he was looking. "Yeah. Anchorage in August is pretty much like any place else." He looked back at me. "You'll still be there for the tourists."
I looked down, rested my forehead on the side of my fist. "I don't know...I don't know. Why the hell exactly do I want to see you again?"
"I said 'if you want to'. You might understand things better. And things change whether you come or not, so you could at least have a few more days before you go back to despising me for the forseeable future."
"I don't despise you. I want to kill you, but I don't despise you."
I've got shorts on. I don't have a shirt. Compared to what you usually wear with this, I'm basically naked. And no one, no one is ever, ever going to see me wearing it.
Maybe I'll bring it to Alaska and throw it back in his face.
He left his old black and gold pads by the back door, and those are harder to throw. Gloves are pretty painful, though, if you catch one in the head.
"Marc, I love you." He pulled me in close and held on, and I hated his guts and wished he wouldn't let go. Can we just stand there till training camp starts? "I really, really love you."
Being inside this jersey is not the same.
I look different, I feel...adrift. I've got Bob Dylan stuck in my head. To be on your own, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone, how does it feel, baby, how does it feel?
"Yes, you stupid bastard. That's why this hurts."
I don't care where he goes, if I don't let him go, then he's still mine.
à suivre (to be Continued)
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And I'm sorry about Detroit. : (((
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At least the irony is a goldmine?
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I can't believe Ty is actually going to place with the Redwings...
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Alanis Morrisette said it best....
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This was actually written yesterday.
It seems we all knew Ty leaving was inevitable but why them.
Detroitbetter take good care of Ty.no subject
Ty better take good care of Detroit!
Hope he's not expecting a ring next year, boy.
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He better not expect a ring. The Pens will be ready next year ;)
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Oz is busy with other people*coughNick,Homercough* anyway.
Is he really gone or no?
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Presumably, it's one way. Poor Jimmy Howard. ;_; Though I imagine he'll get some cups of coffee with Elroy's injury history.
Boy, if Detroit's really serious about Ty (and I guess they are), he's gonna get some GOOD playing time.
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I am sure the Wings will take good care of him.
Sucks that their in different conferences
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eightsix times a year instead of once?Methinks not.
as it happens, detroit is closer to pittsburgh than most places in the eastern conference. *who knows....*
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If you think about, splitting time with Elroy is like a reward AND a punishment! (And he's replacing. Dominik. Hasek. cue the laughter.)
I'm actually not so mad at Ty. He didn't have a roster spot, what can you do. If I see pictures of him next fall being adorable with Chris 'Gaping Diving Cheapshotting' Osgood (and wouldn't that be a feat), then I want to kill him. In multiply painful ways.
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You won't be the only one...we might have to organize a mob.
:(
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Cela que j'espère que je vois en ton prochaine histoire.
Oh, et je suis d'accord avec vous. Ty, Elroy ne doit pas le toucher.
(Ain't mah French just comin' along?)
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I think we ALL agree with me.
Vas-y la linguiste! ;)
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OMG TY :'(
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*passes tissues*
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I liked this. The internal dialogue style was effective.
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This garbage about him having to actually 'compete with Howard' for the "backup" job better be just that.
It'll be nice having him win 20 games in a season, though.
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but as painful as that was, i liked it very much.
going to go cry about ty and a few other lost penguins now...
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Detroit is actually a really good place for Conks to be; he should get a whole huge ton of playing time and if
that weasel ElroyOsgood looks good behind that defense, hey....It's not like he's
HossaHe Who Shall Be BOOED In PGH Next Year...the only thing in common is that neither of them will be winning a Cup next season.But I think we all loathe Detroit pretty good right about now.