I love being a hrpf writer

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I love being a hrpf writer
i cannot control my awwww
We asked Will how he would respond to this. And now we see he did.
Mack said Connors favorite sport is Pickleball so in Connors city, Will takes Mack to play just the two of them at a facility his family always goes to.
Jealous much, William?
But I do wonder how connor feels about mack in lights of the world deciding mack is everything they wanted him to be, being in the scrutiny of media spotlight as the next crosby mcdavid for his entire childhood with too much on his shoulder just to be ditched in a blink of an eye for the nhl’s new golden boy, facing backlash for expectations he never asked for and people pissed because they think they bet on the wrong “generational talent”, mack absolutely killing it and breaking records with their shared childhood idols in the olympics while he’s rolling on the floor in a nightclub in brazil bc he’s unable to get some. does he resent mack just a little bit for not inviting him to Halifax even tho he understands they’re in competition for that roster spot? Does he feel relieved and maybe even a little bad for mack now that the attention and expectations are all shifted from him? and of course he doesn’t care to have that weird codependent relationship mack has going on with his liney bc he enjoys his solitude when he’s not playing hockey and enjoys living alone watching sports game while doomscrolling but does he also wonder what it’d be like if there’s someone to share his burden with? He’s always only blaming himself for not doing better and never show any negative emotions towards any of his teammates for not being able to finish his plays but does he feel bitter just a little bit because just think what he could’ve been at right now if he had competent linemates instead of 100 different flavorless line combos for one season and then burakovsky for the next? he’s been looking really good flying all over the ice creating incredible grade A chances which doesn’t translate in points but he feels good about the improvement of his games but does he find it annoying that it doesn’t result in a number? of course he’s fired up and doesn’t care about media tensions and is going to prove them wrong eventually anyways but what does he feel now 3 seasons into his nhl careers with a bloody mouth, a broken jaw, a dislocated shoulder and countless losses and disappointments when for his entire life so far all he had known is to win? it’s only human nature to feel pissed but you can’t help but wonder looking at this tung tung 67 brainrot kid who is merely 20 but also chill and polite and mature and even a little fun and sassy with media who tries to be older than he really is who only ever wears his heart on his sleeve on ice like so how do you feel?
AND I STILL HAVEN’T FORGIVEN TEAM CANADA FOR THIS SNUB
happy cali fin day, can’t wait for will and mack and connor bedard to make out at center ice
It's always kind of just been Connor and hockey against the world. Hockey had rules structure. Pass the puck. Score the puck. Connor liked to do both. His junior coaches used to get mad at him because he would pass the puck too much, but who cared? They were up 4-2 anyways and Connor had scored twice already. He wasn't trying to score a hat trick for the ego boost, he didn't need an ego boost. If his teammate would have a good angle, especially a teammate who was thinking about quitting hockey, why not give it to them? If they whiffed, they whiffed, and time moved onward. If they didn't whiff, then maybe Connor could keep them around a little bit longer.
The Blackhawks didn't like him playing like that, and he was no longer good enough to ignore the coaches and do whatever he wanted. He was a product; he was not graced the leniency he was awarded by being a teenager. They paid him the big bucks to be their new franchise player, and that turned hockey from the team game that he loved into the Connor Bedard special. He could either make his coaches happy or his teammates, but never both, and that killed him. Sometimes he could feel eyes on the back of his neck, warm and unpleasant, but when he turned around to check everyone was looking somewhere else.
So it hurt, Connor thought mutely, that no one else understood. Maybe, he thought, Macklin would. Here's another kid who loves hockey just as much as he does, who's performing better than he is, who seems attainable? And Connor tried really hard, with all of his social shortcomings, to have it happen. He started easy conversations, safe ones about plays and gear, which Mack would only respond to on a surface level. He offered his phone number, but Mack never texted. He would say hi before games, but Mack would just look at him, barely saying hi before turning to chirp at Will. Even Will Smith would turn around and look at him, smiling affably, before the pair moved on. They started talking more in the summer, but even then it lacked the depth of even his shallowest childhood friendships.
Connor tried to ignore it, he really did. He would dig deep into hockey and ice time, scattering pylons to make silly skating drills and aiming for every inch of the net from every angle on the ice. It steadied him, and Connor knew he would move on. But he felt pathetic, sometimes. Not pathetic for having a slower season, but pathetic for wanting to be friends with someone who was completely indifferent to him.
figure skate connor X player hockey mack