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Please give 100% of the money/payout to The__Y-man__100 , the story is his

At an SMJHL players’ association meeting, representatives met to discuss how to avoid a situation like the bizarre fiasco that happened in New England. Options on the table include juniors players not being able to sue each other and accidents occurring on arena property being classified as work incidents for liability purposes. Whatever clauses are added could be factored into future SMJHL contracts starting immediately. So what happened to merit such extreme reactions from the SMHJLPA? Here’s a dramatic retelling of this pro incident from Boris Poroshenko’s perspective, based on eyewitness accounts and some creative liberties:

Boris Poroshenko looked around the hallway as he exited after the final game of the regular season, skate blades leaving jagged imprints on the dated carpet. This was it, the last game of the season was over and New England would yet again be missing the playoffs. Most of his teammates had already cleared out, but something made him linger on the ice. He had sat there for at least an hour on the bench, ignoring the calls of his coaches to head to the locker room and clean up. He watched the last fan climb the stairs from the first level and vanish, then the stadium was but a ghost arena, an empty shell. He studied the intricate logos on the ice, zoning out, eyes staring into the distance, as if he was searching for an answer. The question that was eating at him; why couldn’t New England live up to the glory of their cup run just two seasons ago?

He looked sadly at his jersey, the wolf logo staring back at him with beady eyes. It was a fierce animal like he wished he could be out there. He tried to be, tried to dish out hits and play with all the viciousness of an apex predator. But sometimes, you just couldn’t force another team into submission with all your will and your energy. Sometimes, your best wasn’t good enough. You tried so desperately and you came up short. Passion bubbling to the surface, Poroshenko punched his locker. His knuckles immediately throbbed while the cold metallic surface remained unharmed. He shook his head at himself, frowning that he’d let his temper and his feelings get the best of him.

They could come back next year, return with the previous season’s outcome still haunting them. He would work harder, push himself past his breaking point. Poroshenko gathered his resolve and quietly sat down on the floor, unlacing his skates. His reflection glinted in the skate blade, and the sight of a sad, tired looking Russian hockey player stared back at him. He hated seeing himself like this. Unable to stand the sight of his sunken eyes and empty countenance, he stuffed the skates in his bag, atop the rest of his gear.

He pulled out his phone, frowned to see texts from rival players with golf memes. The mockery fed his negative thoughts and made the rage boil to the surface anew. The self-loathing and disappointment was like a carousel, going round in circles, looping eternally on itself. He flipped open Spotify and decided to play some emo music. He quickly tucked his Air pods in his ears and put on some Bring Me the Horizon. The screaming and the angst of the song brought him back to reality, somehow helped to compose him. His breathing now steady, Poroshenko headed out to the parking lot.

He fished into his pocket for car keys and turned on the ignition. He backed out quietly, not truly looking; the parking lot was basically deserted, right? He heard a sickening crunch and immediately slammed the brakes. He hopped out of the car and rushed over to the crumpled body laying by the rear tire. It was Tigole Bitties, curled into the fetal position, whimpering in pain as he clutched his ribs. Poroshenko forgot his self-pity in a heartbeat as adrenaline surged through his veins. He felt both relief that the person he had run over was alive, and panic that this had happened in the first place. How could he have been so careless behind the wheel, all because of frustration over a silly game? What was Bitties even still doing here, and why was he standing right behind his car? He could have been anywhere, the parking lot was basically empty, what was he thinking?!

It did not matter. Poroshenko scooped Bitties up into his arms and carried him bridal style, laying him out on the back seat. Bitties groaned in pain. He didn’t look so good, his skin was pallid, his teeth were gritted and his forehead was drenched in sweat. Boris floored it, nearly taking the turn onto the main road on two wheels. The car’s engines roared and rumbled from the acceleration as he prayed that they would not pass a cop car or get killed on the way to the hospital.

Bitties wouldn’t die, would he? It didn’t look fatal, but if Boris was wrong, he could get charged with manslaughter. He could spend the rest of his career in a US state penitentiary, locked behind bars. As a Russian, he doubted a jury would give him the benefit of the doubt. No, that was not what he should be worrying about, it was selfish thinking! Bitties was suffering right now.

Boston General loomed just across the street. Poroshenko pulled in and screamed to the medics for help. A group of guys in scrubs rushed over and dragged Bitties onto a stretcher. Boris could only watch as he was wheeled down the hallway, his teammate illuminated by the fluorescent lights. Someone pointed him toward the waiting room, and at some point, he drifted off.

He was awoken by a doctor calling his name.

“Are you the one that brought in Tigole Bitties?”

Boris nodded, and the doctor continued, “He is going to be fine. Just a few broken ribs, he should make a full recovery. He wanted to see you.”

Poroshenko exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over him in waves.  The doctor turned and beckoned for him to follow. The Russian forward trotted down the hall and pushed open a door. A middle-aged blonde man in a crisp suit, rimmed glasses, and a fake Rolex was standing over Bitties. He turned as Boris entered and smiled curtly, passing him an official looking document.

“My client is suing you for damages. He has suffered greatly because of what you did.”

Boris stared in shock; he hadn’t been expecting this. But he couldn’t blame Bitties for being bitter and wanting retribution. Boris muttered an apology to Bitties, then turned on his heel and left the room.

A couple of days passed. Bitties was discharged from the hospital. Both he and Boris had apparently received a summons to come to the police station. This was regarding the newly filed lawsuit, according to the man they both spoke to on the phone. Bitties sat across from Boris in what appeared to be an interview room, accompanied by his lawyer. The lawyer was wearing a cream-colored suit this time, but otherwise looked the same.

A uniformed officer entered the room, not making eye contact with either party. He settled down on a rolling chair and leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He placed a laptop on his desk and turned it around to face both of them. There was what looked like a video waiting to be played.

“We found CCTV footage of the incident. I think Mr. Poroshenko will want to see this,” the officer said.

Boris glanced over at Bitties and saw his eyes widen in what looked like horror. The injured defenseman squirmed in his seat and opened his mouth, then closed it. He placed his head in his hands. His lawyer nudged him with a subtle elbow and Bitties tried to collect himself. Boris wondered why the officer’s news spawned such a strange, distraught reaction from Bitties; he was victim, surely this would help his case?

The officer narrowed his eyes and tapped the space bar. The video played, and Boris could hardly believe what unfolded in front of his eyes. He saw his car rolling backward, and Bitties standing off to the side, crouching as if ready to spring into action. He flung himself into the car’s path like a diver leap into a pool, arms outstretched and all. Bitties had hurt himself, had got run over...on purpose? Boris couldn’t process what he saw, but the camera didn’t lie. He glared at Bitties, who wouldn’t meet his eyes, gave the officer a quiet nod of thanks, then stormed out of the room.

He made his way out of the building and sat down on the sidewalk. Bitties came out and walked over, hands on his hips. He was visibly upset, a frown etched on his face.

“What the hell man?” Boris said finally, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry. You just got a multi-million dollar extension, and I thought...well if I got hurt I could sue you. Get some money,” said Bitties. “I know this doesn’t make it better and it won’t make sense to you, but I’m retiring and my wife has expensive tastes. I needed to do something to get a big chunk of change.”

Boris did not reply, only sat and quietly mulled over what Bitties had said. He felt betrayed; he couldn’t believe someone he had been teammates with for years’ could stoop so low, could try to take everything he had earned over his young career.

“Please say something?” Bitties pleaded.

“I assume you’re dropping the lawsuit?” Boris asked, an edge to his voice.

Bitties sighed. “Yes, I guess I have to now.”

Boris nodded, then shot him a frosty glare. “Good. Then get away from me. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Bitties’ face dropped, but he walked away without any confrontation. His lawyer filed the paperwork to drop the case the next day, and that could have been the end of the story. But someone in the police department leaked the case and the video to the media, and from there, it was a circus. Nobody could believe what had happened that night, and it rocked the hockey world to its core. The SHL took immediate action and denounced what Bitties had done, and now, the SMJHL was also deliberating what response was appropriate. Players had to learn that that behavior was not acceptable young. There had to be a zero tolerance policy.

So this meeting will decide how the SMJHL will respond and what new rules they will implement. We will keep you posted on any new developments, and continue trying to reach both Tigole Bitties and Boris Poroshenko for official comment. Not even their agents will discuss the matter, but eventually, they will surely address it.

Official Statements we do have:

SMJHLPA: “We are reviewing our legal protections and discussing a response to this story. We wish to protect our players in all regards, and we will take swift action to ensure that this never happens in the juniors.”

SHLPA: “New legal clauses have been introduced and are mandatory in all future contracts to prevent legal issues in the future. This is, as speculated and reported in media, a direct result of the Bitties/Poroshenko situation.”

New England Wolfpack: “The Team is conducting an internal investigation on the events that occurred on our premises twelve days ago. Two Wolfpack players were involved and are being questioned by their general managers. We do not have any further comments at the moment.”

Boston Police Department: “We can confirm that an incident was reported between a Tigole Bitties and Boris Poroshenko that has since resolved itself. We do not condone the actions of whatever Officer leaked this information, especially given the celebrity status of the involved parties, and are investigating the source of the leak. We will continue to work hand in hand with the public and the media in the interest of trust and transparency.”

[img=0x0]https://i.imgur.com/ByNN8Jn.gif[/img]

Did he know what he was doing? Just claim ignorance and it's all good in HOs mind