Brynn’s voice—bright, biting, and full of satirical glee—fills the quiet. A balm in podcast form.
"Welcome back, you beautiful degenerates, to the Puck Bunny Podcast, where we analyze the only stats that really matter: penalty box fashion and post-game interview meltdowns,"Brynn chirps over the upbeat intro music.
"And where I provide the stats,"Riley's voice cuts in with dry precision,"and she provides the chaos."
"Today, we're inducting a new member into our Worst Hair Hall of Fame," Brynn continues without missing a beat."We all thought Jaromir Jagr's mullet was the peak of follicular chaos, but folks, we have a new contender: Zac Torres andhis... well, his hair looks like a sad, wet Zamboni that just gave up on life."
"Torres is also riding a twelve-game point drought,"Riley adds with deadpan delivery,"so his performance matches his grooming choices."
I snort into my coffee.
"But speaking of players who actually know what they're doing,"Brynn says, her voice shifting into formal presentation mode,"let's talk about today's main topic: the physical protector in modern hockey. Riley, want to give us the boring, technical definition first?"
"Gladly,"Riley replies, and I can practically hear her adjusting her glasses."A physical protector is a high-skill defenseman who combines elite defensive play with strategic intimidation. They're shutdown players—capable of neutralizing the opponent's top lines while also protecting teammates from aggressive or illegal plays. They deter dangerous behavior through physical presence, devastating body checks, and when necessary, fighting. But unlike traditional enforcers, these players are on the ice because of their skill, not just their fists. It's strategic deterrence backed by actual hockey IQ."
"Okay, okay,"Brynn jumps in, her voice bubbling with mischief."Let me translate that coach-speak for everyone listening while they fold laundry or pretend to work. Picture this: you know that grumpy, overprotective best friend in every romance novel? The one who shows up when some douche is bothering the heroine at a bar? But he's not just muscle—he's also brilliant, capable, and devastatingly competent. He doesn't want to fight, but he will absolutely throw hands if someone threatens his person. That's your old-school shutdown D-man with a mean streak. He's the human embodiment of 'touch her and die,' excepthe can also solve a Rubik's cube while doing calculus."
"That's... surprisingly accurate,"Riley admits."And speaking of the perfect example of a physical protector with elite defensive instincts, we need to talk about what Tank Sullivan did in Tuesday's game against Detroit."
"Oh my GOD, yes,"Brynn practically purrs."Riley, tell them what happened first, then I'll explain why every woman in America needs to see that replay."
"Third period, Detroit's Murphy lined up what looked like a dirty hit on our rookie center, Daniels,"Riley recounts with clinical precision."Sullivan spotted the setup from across the ice, abandoned his defensive position, and intercepted Murphy with a perfectly legal but absolutely devastating check. Murphy went down hard. Sullivan skated away without even looking back."
"WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING BACK,"Brynn repeats, her voice going dreamy."Folks, I've watched that clip seventeen times, and every time, I need to fan myself with my stat sheets. This man saw a threat to his baby teammate from forty feet away and turned into a six-foot-three missile of righteous fury. The casual way he destroyed that guy? The complete indifference afterward? Pure alpha energy. Tank Sullivan said 'not today, Satan' and meant every word."
"The statistical impact was significant too,"Riley notes."Detroit attempted fourteen fewer hits on our forwards after that play."
"Because they learned!"Brynn exclaims."They learned that Tank Sullivan is watching, and Tank Sullivan does not play. That's the beauty of a guy like Tank—half his value is just existing. Just being this looming presence that says 'try me, I dare you.' Except unlike those old-school goons, Tank can alsoquarterback a power play and read plays three steps ahead. He's the whole package."
This is why their podcast is a phenomenon. Riley brings the sharp, technical analysis that gives them credibility, and Brynn translates it into something everyone can understand: loyalty, protection, drama. They make the game about the stories, and they're damn good at it.
The podcast’s still going when my phone lights up with a call. The contact photo is a selfie of us from college, arms draped over each other, cheeks flushed from too much cheap wine and too little sleep.
Brynn.
I pause the episode and answer, still smiling. “If you’re calling to defend the Zamboni look, I’m hanging up.”
“Defend it?” she scoffs. “I’m submitting it for federal disaster aid.”
I laugh. “Honestly, they should just retire his helmet out of pity.”
“But that’s not why I’m calling. I need to vent before I go on a corporate-mandated rampage. I just got off a ‘notes call’ with the new network liaison.”
I tuck my legs under me, fully settling in. “Oh no. Is this the guy from LA with the perfect teeth who thinks ‘synergy’ is a food group?”
“So much worse,” she groans. “He told me the podcast needs to be more ‘aspirational for the male demographic.’ His big idea? A segment where I rate players' ‘off-ice style,’ but—and I quote—‘in a way that doesn't alienate the fantasy league guys.’”
I wince. “Ugh. The dreaded ‘make it for the boys’ note.”
“He suggested I do less ‘deep-dive analytics’ and more ‘quick-hit hot takes.’ Said my last episode on defensivepairings was ‘too in the weeds for the casual fan.’ I think I blacked out from a rage stroke.”
“Honestly, that sounds like a refreshing break from my day,” I mutter, swirling the last of my coffee. “I’ve spent the past eight hours translating grunts and scowls from the human embodiment of a penalty box.”
“Oof. The Sullivan situation,” she says, instantly sympathetic. “Has he used a full sentence yet?”
“Not without looking like it caused him physical pain,” I say. “Honestly, after this week, a guy whose big idea is more ‘hot takes’ sounds like a great conversationalist.”
“And on top of it, I have to deal with that trashy copycat podcast, The Sin Bin Scoop, trying to steal my bits. They'd probably give that network suit his own segment on ‘aspirational male content.’” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Want me to come over with wine and takeout? We can burn effigies of annoying men.”
