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luc-henri-sourit (August 9, 2024): Training camp! Baptiste looks very pleased to be reunited with his linemates

dylaneverett (August 11, 2024): @lhbaptiste WILL YOU PLEASE SIGN THIS I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

[Photo of Dylan holding up a copy of Sports Illustrated with Henri on the cover in his Turkeys uniform.]

↪ lhbaptiste: Please stop buying these and handing them out to fans at the rink. I’m not signing anymore.

dylaneverett (August 13, 2024): My first attempt at split pea soup and tourtière. Need some practice.

[Photo of a candlelit dinner with two plates.]

alexeisokolov (July 28, 2024): Very happy to finally be married to the lovely Yelena Petrov.

[Translated from Russian]

[Photo of the wedding party.]

↪ andrewnovak80: congrats. thought evers was attending

↪ alexeisokolov: is recovering from injury. as his teammate you should know this

↪ andrewnovak80: omg you’re right my bad totally forgot.

turkeytalk (October 5, 2024): after the devastation of watching the Turkeys lose it in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals only a few months ago, we’re going into Game 1 of a new season and I gotta say, I’m feeling lucky. Turkeys put out the starting lineup, and I notice there are no major line changes from that last game in June. Here’s hoping…

“You got this, babe. You look great, babe. You’re gonna have a killer night, babe…” Dylan stood at the end of the tunnel, fistbumping his teammates one by one as they walked out onto the ice. Traditionally, as captain, it was his job to be the last one on the ice. He took pride in using that as a chance to hype up his team.

Last but not least, it was Henri’s turn.

Dylan couldn’t help it; he grinned wide, threw his arms around him, and shook. Seeing Henri often triggered his cuteness aggression. It’d be hard to transition back into being in the public eye so much. Luckily, no one thought much of it that Dylan couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“How’s my favorite center?” He squeezed tightly now and lifted him up.

“Quit it,” Henri huffed and pushed him away, though he was smiling. “Tu me fais honte.”

You make me…something. Dylan blanked on the word, reaching through his limited French and coming up empty. Chances weren’t looking good for horny being at the end of that thought.

“You’re embarrassing me,” Henri said. He tapped Dylan’s chest with his stick and winked. “Try not to do it on the ice.” Then he was off onto the ice before Dylan could stop him.

He didn’t hide that he watched Henri go. A shame the gear obscured the hard planes of muscle underneath. Actually. Maybe not. Dylan shook his head to get rid of the image of a naked Henri. Bad timing. He did not need to play with a boner.

Dylan high-fived the fans reaching over the entrance to the rink, took a fortifying breath, and ran onto the ice. It was good to be back.

He took a few laps and waved at the crowd. He’d wanted to bring home another Cup Banner to hang in the rafters, but that’d have to wait another year. He was glad the fans hadn’t completely given up on them despite the loss. It was rough, being a fan of a team that had sucked the past few years and then had finally gotten tantalizingly close to victory again, only to have it snatched away. Dylan was going to do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen this year.

Step One: Win the home opener.

Step Two: Make the playoffs.

Step Three: Don’t get injured.

Step Four: Win the fucking Stanley Cup.

Honestly, it was a foolproof plan. Probably had a few more steps he’d need to fill in along the way, but he’d figure it out. He had a fantastic team this year. Possibly even better than last year, with a few minor tweaks over the off-season.

Dylan stopped at his usual spot along the boards. He leaned back against them and pretended to ignore the kids behind him who were banging desperately on the glass. When he turned around and pretended to be surprised to see them, they were delighted. Counting four kids, he reached down and grabbed four pucks. It took him the next couple of minutes to get them over the glass.

As the time wound down, Dylan skated lazily back and forth along the blue line and stickhandled around his teammates as they whizzed by. He didn’t want to take any shots; his shoulder issues last season were well known throughout the league, and he knew there was a lingering question mark over his recovery.