The circle of cameras and microphones during pre game interviews were always a little overwhelming. Knowing that every question is laced with another question, a deeper confession skilled journalists want to coax and hook and wring out. Shane knows what they really what him to say when they ask about his skill set, when they hold large iPhones in front of his eyes, obscuring his field of vision - when did they get so big? He finds himself wondering, reminiscing on the practical BlackBerry he used to own. He refocused his attention to the woman in front of him. She’s young, with a Toronto Metropolitan University press pass loose around her neck, resting flimsily on the white shirt under her navy blue blazer. She’s a student, Shane can tell. He finds they always have the most creative questions.
“Sorry, would you mind repeating that?”
“Of course. You’ve been playing in the league for nearly a decade now, starting at the age of 17, and you’ve gotten a plethora of comparisons to athletes such as Tiger Woods, Tashi Duncan, and Serena Williams. Now, it seems as if you’re on par with their infamy, do you have any advice for young athletes similar to you who are just starting out?”
Shane glanced up at the young woman, finding a slight recognition in her eyes. They both knew what she was really asking. Any advice for the other non-white kids? It wasn’t a bad question, or even an offensive one. Still, Shane always slightly resented the comparison. The way it tokenized him, squished his skill down to simply being good for an Asian kid. Aside from that, the question didn’t even make sense. Shane was 25, he wasn’t nearly as old as Tiger Woods or Serena Williams.
He’d often wondered if he should be doing more for his community. If he should be making his Asian heritage more relevant instead of loosely addressing it during a Tim Hortons limited edition Shane Hollander-Maple-Matcha-Latte (which tasted disgusting, not at all like a proper Japanese Matcha should). He knows he’s fortunate for this position but the thought carrying that — not burden, no— the thought of having to be that symbol, the only representation…
It scared him.
He didn’t want to let everyone down, fail to be the Japanese - Canadian Super Star Golden Boy. Your young Asian kids can look to him, he never acts out, he eats all of his vegetables, he isn’t vulgar or rude or perverted. He doesn’t lie to his parents.
If they only knew.
What advice would he give young athletes similar to him? Push yourself 10x harder than the rest of them, so when the boys mock you from the stands during games and corner you behind the area after practice and pull their eyes back while asking if you even speak English, you can destroy them on the ice. Push yourself so hard that you hope that your outward shell doesn’t matter, not until they ask about it through thinly veiled questions that remind everyone that you’re an outlier.
Shane replies,
“Thank you for your question. When I first started out, I was just trying to focus on improving my skill set and working towards the goals I had. I was lucky to have had so much support to get me to where I am today. Any young athlete should do the same and above all believe in themselves.”
It’s a simple answer. A bit of a cop out. But hopefully for one young Shane Hollander, it’s something.
A voice announces there will be no further questions and Shane gives polite thank you’s to everyone and takes a breath, rolling back his shoulders to try and physically shake off years of frustration. Anyway, it’s game time.
The locker room buzzed with pregame excitement. The guys riled each other up as they all got suited up, ready to be encompassed by the vibrations of fan cheers. Shane felt it too and was eager to get onto the ice, his element. A place where it didn’t matter who he was, a place he could simply dominate.
As he stepped to center ice, Shane thought about how much this game meant to him. It was his life’s purpose, his safe haven. Giving it his full attention, giving it his all was everything.
The heavy puck hovered above Shane’s head as he anticipated the drop. He won the face off.
