"Kaapo, hey. Nice to see you. How's your summer been? We hope you've put in a lot of hard work this summer." Kekkonen was greeted by longtime General Manager Niclas Wastlund with co-General Manager Valtteri Bottas at his side.

He could still remember how the Admirals had beaten his team down in five games. How he tried to keep the fighting spirit alive among his teammates, but ended up losing a fight to Samee Iqbal. How it felt to skate off the ice for the last time in Season 35. It had been a tough season from the get go for Kaapo, who struggled mightily. Perhaps he was in over his head. The veteran player, once a physical force and Jeff Dar contender, had started to see his game decline. A change seemingly in order.

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"Listen.. we're going to be making a change here."

Kekkonen looked down to the floor and wiggled in his chair uneasily. He knew he hadn't been his best, but he wasn't looking for a massive change. Not one that required a personal meeting with the Head Office. Maybe they had spent the summer looking for trade partners in an attempt to capitalize on market value before Kekkonen's game completely fell off. Potentially getting younger, adding a roster player that fit better with the young core of Reflieux, Haas, Leetch, Strange, and Herzog.

"Well. Here's the deal."

This was it. Surely Kekkonen's days as a Panther had come to an end; a changing of the guard.

"We want you to be our new Captain."

A flurry of emotions swept through Kaapo. He jumped up excitedly and proclaimed, "Yes! Yes! Of course I'll be Captain of this team!" He had waited for years for an opportunity like this, and just when his career had seemed to be flickering, the Los Angeles management made it clear that they still saw significant value in their S23 2nd round pick.

Then the questions began to flood his brain, and he began to ask in rapid-fire in a concerned tone, "How am I supposed to be a Captain? I've never been one before. What do I do? What do I say? And what about.."

He trailed off, his head turning towards the locker room behind him.

"What is it, Kekks? What are you looking for?"

He ignored the management and began to walk into the locker room, each step a little quicker than the last. He nearly broke into a sprint. And then he stopped on a dime, gazing up at the name plates above each locker.

"Where's Crutchfield?"