Vegas Lights || The Claude L'Castor Story (2x First Media)
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![]() Registered Member ![]() FOR OPTIMAL VIEWING, CLICK THIS HERE TO OPEN THE PDF ON GOOGLE DOCS WITH NICE FORMATTING Plain Text Below for normal viewing/Mod Word Counts Yes, the X2 first media still is an option thanks to two x2 draft media posts Vegas Lights | |Panic At the Disco August 30th: S80. The Vegas lights greet Claude L’Castor as he descends on his near six hour flight from Montreal to his new home, at least for the next four years, in Las Vegas, Nevada. The pressure of being a fourth overall draft pick is not lost on Claude as he sits down on his window seat for his flight. Though most the flight is filled with lustful tourists from Quebec, looking to hit it big at the casinos or to see a show, and more. As for him and his mother, they’re hopeful to help get Claude settled in. The staff from the Battleborn had already set him up with a local realtor and with a mix of emails being sent back and forth and a quick trip down about a month ago, they were able to find him a decent apartment to keep him comfortable in his new surroundings. The next several days will be about helping him fill the apartment and set himself up so he has nothing to worry about off-ice. Nevada is not a traditional hockey market. Even in regards to sports in general, with a large tourist population, they are not the first place you think of in regards to a sports town. But, as goaltender himself said, he’s focused on making this place home, maybe making a few friends and new fans, and leaving with a positive feeling in Sin City. At least the sports media here will not be quite as hard on him as they would in his hometown. He taps his mom as she slowly wakes up. They had a late flight out of Montreal, which was delayed an extra two hours for unspecified reasons. He points out the window and lets her get a view of the colourful desert city. She is feeling a sense of excitement at seeing the city, hopeful she can find some time to see a local restaurant or a show. Not the casinos though, apart from an occasional lottery ticket or a 50/50 draw at one of Claude’s games or for charity, she is adamantly against the idea of gambling. With Claude being on his own for the first time in his life, he has some sense of anxiety, but with the routine of his games keeping him sound, he is hopeful that he can adjust to his new life in the J. Off the strip, Claude L’Castor sees some lights and with the shape of the building, he recognises it. The Dodge Ram 1500 Hellcat Memorial Arena. Mouthful of a name, but a place which will become his second home in Las Vegas. “Bonjour Vegas. J'ai hâte de voir ce qui nous attend.” He says to himself in french, nervous, but looking forward to the first chapter of his career. “Las Vegas is a city built on hopes, dreams, and a little bit of crazy.” -Michael McDonald September 4th: The Herb and Rye Ambiance After about a week helping her son set himself up, Mrs. L’Castor is in her last evening in Las Vegas, at least for now. While there, she already purchased a season ticket which she can redeem for one of the first few home games. Representatives from the team were kind enough to comp them and let her know which one’s Claude is scheduled to start so she may be able to get down in time to watch her son’s home debut. But she also knows she doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. This is her son’s chance to set himself up for his new life in hockey. Though she’ll be a phone call away, she doesn’t want to be an overbearing mother. And with her son’s first team practice tomorrow afternoon, she’ll be set to fly back to Montreal in the morning. As a thank you to his mother, Claude decided to find a nice place to sit down and eat off the strip. Pick somewhere local where tourists aren’t expected to be an over abundance, and there will be a few healthy options for Claude. The spot, the Herb and Rye. Many professional cooks on the strip go here as a place for good quality meals and drinks after a long day of cooking. The atmosphere is busy but calm, many patrons tired after a long day and have first hand experience dealing with unruly customers. Claude and his mother sit in a corner booth, enjoying some sense of peace. L’Castor, deep down, especially after his father’s passing, is a mama’s boy, and still has his mother’s well-being in mind. But she’s assured him multiple times that she’ll be fine. She's even shown some pictures of some cats she’s considering adopting. So that much can put the Nevada Battleborn goaltender at ease. Though he’s hoping her future furball can not wreck anything he left behind for his room. Both L’Castors have steaks in front of them along with baked potatoes. Claude, after finding some fun recipes in his spare time, has finally gotten himself to eat salad as well. His mother even teased him after he ordered a salad, but the big guy is enjoying his meal. Though, after a dirty look from the waiter when he asked for his steak ‘well-done’ he switched it to medium as a compromise and is enjoying it. Mama L’Castor has herself a cocktail drink, a gimlet, and Claude just has some diet pop, though old enough to drink in Quebec, in the United States, it is a different story. The waitress returns to check on her guests as she wears a white dress shirt and black pencil skirt. Clean, professional, with her hair in a ponytail. “So, how is everything?” She asks the family. Claude finishes chewing his bite of steak and nods. “Tres bien. It is good. Some of the best steak I have had. Though I guess I didn’t try it medium before.” His mom, taking another chance to tease him, responds. “Well, you lived on chicken nuggets until high school, so…” Claude cuts his mother a glare which she smirks at. The waitress finds the banter between the family amusing. “Glad we’re helping you expand your horizons then. If you need anything else, let us know.” The two nod and take another bite of food. The waitress is about to turn around, but she remembers something and turns around. “-And I have a strange question, you, are you an athlete of some kind?” For the first time in Las Vegas, Claude has been recognized. He gives a sheepish grin and wipes his face, getting a crumb out of his slowly growing beard. “Oui. Uh, I got drafted by the local J Hockey team. The Nevada Battleborn. Just here treating my Mama with a meal before she heads home.” “Two of our cooks saw you and thought you either were a football player, or hockey. One of them does have Battleborn season tickets, so I guess he wins their bet.” She chuckles. “But if anyone bothers you, let us know. Don’t want to ruin your time with your family.” Claude gives a thumbs up. “And since the service and food here is good, part of the tip, if one of them wants a picture or an autograph, let me know. I think they earned that.” “I will let them know. That’s so kind of you Mr…” “Claude.” He answers. “Claude L’Castor. Merci.” “Okay, Claude. You two enjoy the rest of your meal then.” The waitress walks away and the L’Castors are left to enjoy their meal. Mama L’Castor smiles. “Guess we raised you right to use your manners.” She smiles. “Honestly, I just want to leave a good impression, you know? Do some of the small things.” He admits. “It is strange. I always wanted to be some big hockey star, but I also don’t want to be ‘always’ recognized. Being able to go out for dinner and have moments like this be a nice treat rather than an everyday thing, or let it get to my head.” “Are you sure you don’t want to use fame to start a band?” “Who am I? Joe.” He jokes. He recognizes Primeau from their days playing in the greater Montreal area. “I think you will be just fine here.” Claude’s mom gives him a vote of confidence. “Uh, merci, but you don’t-” “I think you just needed to hear that.” She smiles. “I know how nervous I was when I moved out for the first time to go to Universite Laval. The stress of managing finances, a new place, how my parents would be without their kids in the house, non?” She gives a knowing look. Claude looks to the red wall, she’s right. “I suppose there is going to be some adjustment. I am in a new country even. I mean, here I need to watch out for when people turn at red lights. It is crazy!” He jokes about the latter, he’s driven in New Brunswick before, having three games in a week facing teams from Fredericton, Saint John, and Moncton. “On the bright-side, you do not need to worry about shoveling this winter.” “But I need to change that for snakes and scorpions, so I think it balances out.” He shudders. Poisonous animals, not exactly something you see in the greater Montreal area. “I do know a few teammates who live down the road from me.” Claude changes the subject a bit. “When we walked around to the practice facility I did meet a few of the guys and they mentioned some of them are close, so if I have questions I can message them.” Leaning back in his seat, Claude sighs. “I can’t wait until I can just focus on hockey…” “You will be fine, and remember, I will be a call away.” “-And a border and six hour flight.” “You know what I mean.” She snickers. “Have some fun. Make some new friends. This is your dream. Enjoy it.” “I will, mama. I will.” Claude L’Castor smiles and looks back down at his meal. The family enjoy their last meal together in Las Vegas together, because tomorrow, not just does Claude’s mom leave. But it will be time for him to get to work. “Vegas is the number one place to go. Vegas is Sin City. It really gives you a feeling of looseness and anything can go.” -James Belushi September 5th: Nevada Practice Facility: Ambiance Something Claude learned early on once he began travelling for hockey, no matter how new a barn is, or old, whether in Montreal, Quebec, or the Maritimes even, there’s always a familiar feeling once you step into an arena. The scent of stale coffee and greasy french fries in the common areas, a wave of cold area as you get closer to the rink. Though there’s more bells and whistles here, there is nothing like the familiar sights and sounds of a hockey rink. After Claude dropped his mother off at the airport, his car being tightly packed with his gear and her luggage, he went straight for the arena, getting there a good two hours before he was set to go on the ice for warm up. He found his stall in the locker room area, the team giving the corner spots to the goaltenders. Jack is in the far left corner from the door, Claude, the right, and two prospect goaltenders looking to try out to maybe get a waiver spot on some team, are placed in the opposite side. Seeing the Navy blue plate with “Claude L’Castor #70” written in gold, his name has never looked better next to the Battleborn logo. Getting a dark jersey on with his #70, Claude would put on his new pads. An equipment manufacturer in Montreal, Glace, offered to make him custom gear and they did well, incorporating a ram horn like design and the mountains of Nevada in team colours. He readies himself to walk on the ice for the first time as a member of the Nevada Battleborn and looks at his mask. He sees the cartoon beaver design he keeps with him and looks at the mask, still shiny, never been used. There is a gradient with the team colours, shifting from navy to gold, and there are ram horns on the side, his number 70 on the chin. But a personal touch, on the back of the mask, an airbrush painting of him and his dad overlooking the mountains with their initials on the bottom. He’d be proud. The practice would go well, any nerves Claude would have at the beginning shaken off as he takes some time to skate on the ice. There is a decent crowd of fans on the far side from the benches, trying to get their first look at the Nevada Battleborn as they would run multiple drills. When there is a split off from the others and the goaltenders would work on individual drills, L’Castor would use this chance to joke around a bit with his goaltender coach between runs of the same drill, and try to break the proverbial ice with Jack. With Jack having a year up on Claude, he can already tell the goaltender with no last name is a step ahead of him overall. This only motivates Claude to try to do his best to keep up, trying to do his best to learn from his coach and his teammate. Though the two goaltenders invited are no slouches, it is pretty clear that Jack and Claude L’Castor will be the ones on the final roster. This is just some experience for the others. Trying to leave a good first impression on Jack, after a good drill, he’d pat him on the pad with his stick and encourage him, something which coach Fan Cee would notice. Goaltenders in a tandem always have a unique relationship. In one way, you’re always competing with each other for more playing time. But when you click with your other goaltender, you find yourself just as excited for their own success than just your own. At the end of practice which ended in a quick scrimmage, players would slowly leave the ice, with some of them greeting the fans, especially ones who are already established on the team. Drew McIntyre, Kiwi Soderberg-Snooks, Slava Kasyanenko to name a few. But with Claude’s high draft position, he’s getting a little extra attention. He’d spend an extra few minutes with fans, especially trying to take a minute or two to talk to some of the younger fans, ones who he may leave a long lasting impression on. But eventually he goes off to get changed. A nice shower after his first practice was needed. After he gets changed into a t-shirt and shorts, with a team ball cap, someone from the team’s PR requests him to go down the hall to answer questions. He would see a good dozen or so media personalities in the hallway. Many of them from local sports radio shows, and a few local tv stations and online journalists. A pit is in his stomach. This does not feel like it’d be fun, having to answer questions from journalists, some of which may catch him in something for a juicy headline. Jason always warned him of such. But like any hockey guy, he wants to get through this fast. A local newspaper reporter asks an easy question. “Today was your first day officially as part of the Nevada Battleborn, how did it go?” “It felt nice, breaking in the new gear, getting any summer rust off. It is a new level of play for me, so I am doing what I can to keep up with some of my teammates who have a year or two on me. But they have treated me well, and I can’t wait to get some games in.” Another reporter from an online media site follows up. He has a loose tie on. “Have there been any talks about you being the team’s starter?” Claude, seeing the rabbit hole he could go down, shoots down the question with the most stereotypical hockey answer. “Non. This is day one and I am trying to get a flow with my team and coaches. I would love to get a good number of games this year, but in the end, that is not my decision and I will respect it.” “But you are the fourth overall pick.” The online journalist presses, looking for something to clickbait. “The team must have high expectations on you to be placed that high. One of the highest goaltender selections we have seen.” “-and it was an honour to be picked that high.” He tries to keep it simple. “But I have up to four years here. It is a marathon for me, not a sprint. I want to start by being comfortable with my game, then things will come.” “Let’s switch things up a little bit.” A reporter from Nevada United Television Sports (NUTS) follows up. “How are you adjusting to Nevada?” “It is different from Quebec, for sure, but the Montreal area, like Vegas, does not seem to sleep, so the pace is not a problem. Things are just warmer here and less French. I am not used to being in t-shirts and shorts in September.” He shows a little humour. “And what are your expectations going into your first season?” Claude hums, thinking through what to say. He did notice a lack of Four Star Cup banners, but he needs to keep his ambitions realistic. “What I want to be more focused on is our improvement. Fourth last in the league last year is not a, how you say, fun result, even if it did allow me to come here. To bounce back and become, say, champions, would be a lot. So I want to be a better player by the end of this season. I want to support my teammates too. I believe we do not have any fourth year players so we will likely have many returnees next year.” “Would patience be a word you’ll use?” The reporter clarifies and Claude breaks the tread of a young overly ambitious player and nods. “I need to be patient, even if sometimes it goes against my nature, you know? Haha. Merci, thank you.” Hee sees a signal from the publicist to wrap it up, so Claude L’Castor simply thanks them and goes back to the locker room to get his things. There’s a feeling of nervousness, having completed his first interview for the pre-season. Even in Vegas, there is a spotlight shining on you as an athlete. And that spotlight will become just a bit bigger by the end of the pre-season. “There is just no quiet in Vegas” -Barry Manilow September 31st: “Coach Cee is ready to see you, Claude.” A receptionist greets Claude as he sits in a waiting room area. Despite Nevada’s status as a J team, they appear to have strong interior design with a clean, comfortable waiting area with a view of the city outside. The pre-season felt like a blur to Claude. Seven games in two weeks, with him appearing in four of the seven, the final game was split as Claude was beginning to feel gassed. But there is a strong sense of accomplishment in the young goaltender. 3 wins for each of his regular starts, only loss came at the end. Though, there is some sense of pride in the team around him. With an overall record of 5-1-1, things were clicking for the team. The Battleborn may have entered the season relatively low ranked by many, but with the strong pre-season, they might have jumped. L’Castor has his t-shirt and shorts still on, he just finished a team work-out where he and Drew McIntyre ended with a friendly, but spirited, bench press competition which was cut off by the trainer before they attempted to go too far and injure themselves before the season. Claude scratches his face, his beard is starting to grow out a bit, but his mother even admitted it was a ‘good look’ for him, so it’ll just be about keeping it well groomed. Walking down the hallway, Claude opens the door to see his coach sitting at his desk. The room is white walls, carpeted with some splashes of team colours. The windows show a view of the parking lot, not quite the most picturesque view, but some of the visible red rocks of the desert do provide a nice way to mix up the view. Coach Fan Cee, known to be a good motivator, specifically with younger players. That skill set gives him a perfect home in the J with a usually rotating class of prospects who develop, then, ideally, go off to the SHL to have long careers after 3-4 seasons in the J. He pats his desk and motions to the chair in front. Claude gives a friendly wave and sits down. “Coach, nice to touch base a bit before the season, non?” Coach Cee nods. “Pre-season is done and dusted and we liked what we saw, so we’re hoping to build on that this coming year.” “The team played great.” The goaltender agrees, though trying to highlight the team a bit more. “We got room to grow, but I’m happy our goaltending seems to be locked in for the next few years. You and Jack both held your own, so it should be no surprise you two are our duo in the net this year.” The Nevada coach adds. “To be fair, if we didn’t think you’d make the team, we would not have drafted you fourth.” “I will admit, I was a bit shocked at being that high, but the team seems to be a great fit. I’m sure I will learn a lot from backing up Jack.” “Quite a colourful cast we have here. Sometimes I feel like I’m running a zoo.” He jokes. “But, about that, while we’d probably consider Jack our ‘One’ right now, as of now, we’re planning on keeping both your starts about the same this year.” L’Castor hums. “So more of a proper tandem, non?” “Things may change depending on if one of you ends up on a hot streak, but ideally, you both play about 30-some games each in the regular season, then the playoffs we go with whoever is the hot hand.” Turning in his chair, Coach Fan Cee looks at his wall which has team pictures of some of the recent Battleborn rosters. “Even if the end goal of it all is to be playing for the Four Star Cup, we’re also committed to trying to get our team developed. You know that the SHL draft is right around the corner for you also and that means, after this year, there will be a pro team breathing down our necks to make sure you reach full potential. I’m already hearing some from Tampa with Jack. So much as I liked our performance in the pre-season, once the regular season hits, things change.” He looks at Claude. “Sixty-six games,” Coach Cee grabs his flip calendar on his desk. “From October to the start of March, then playoffs. We can have hot streaks, cold streaks, ups and downs, injuries even. A lot can change and when you’re in net, once you’re on the ice, the spotlight and pressure is on.” Putting his calender down, he points at Claude. “We want to make sure you’re ready for it. When the going gets tough, you push through. Then the results will come. Think you can do that? For the team?” Nodding his head, there is some nerves in Claude. The idea of splitting starts is exciting to him, seeing the ice a good bit in his rookie season. But, he knows that the road for him is going to be long. “I can do that.” “Great to hear.” Fan gives a small thumbs up and goes to shake Claude’s hand, which the goaltender accepts. The coach pats the big guy on the shoulder. “Good talk, and once again, welcome to Nevada.” “I am ready for battle, as they say.” Fan chuckles and goes back to his desk, reaching under. “Good one, oh, and uh, one more thing…” “Oui, coach?” He pulls out a white box and hands it to Claude. “We updated your uniform.” Confused, Claude opens the box and sees, visible, his number 70 in gold on the navy blue of the Battleborn. Strange,.he thinks. They didn’t change his number, and usually if players overlap in numbers, they often ask the less senior player for a new one. He holds it up and on the other side, there is one small addition. Coach Fan motions for Claude to turn it around and he sees- Sewn on the chest. An “A.” “What the-” Claude is speechless. Assistant captain? A letter to a rookie is not a typical move, and the odds of a goaltender getting any letter is next to zero, with some leagues even outright banning it. “Something we did last year was give a letter to a rookie. Drew McIntyre. I know you met him in the weight room, trust me, I heard of your guy’s bench-press off.” He winks. “It did him good for gaining confidence and learning from some of the team’s leaders. We think you have some of the same tools as him.” “Merci, t-thank you so much, sir.” L’Castor grins. He is in disbelief. “You’ve earned it, kid. Just remember, being a captain, or an assistant captain, isn’t about you, it’s about the team around you. If you’re on the bench one night, get the guys going. Talk to them. When in net, don’t blame them for a goal you let in-” “You do know that is impossible as a goaltender-” The bluntness from Claude is amusing to the coach. “Then keep it to yourself, but show them how to bounce back. Keep this hush. We’ll be revealing you and the other captains at the start of practice tomorrow. Then we’ll have a meeting. Now go, kid.” Coach Cee looks at the door. “Get some rest.” Claude L’Castor places the jersey down on the table and heads out the door. The idea of resting is easier said than done tonight, but he’s got his expectations for the season- And just another reason to work hard. “Vegas Means comedy, tragedy, happiness, and sadness all at the same time.” -Artie Lange October 4th Las Vegas, Nevada Dodge Ram 1500 Hellcat Memorial Arena YUK5 (OT) NBB 4 Not every debut is perfect. People who have gone on to have legendary careers have started smaller, but to have a puck go in just minutes into overtime past you stings. The Yukon Malamutes celebrate with Ethan Ashcroft, the lucky player who was clutch for them. L’Castor sighs, taking a deep breath under his mask. He gets up and skates to his bench where his teammates are gathering, ready to head off the ice. If he was a hot head, he would blame his teammates for a turnover late, or for taking five penalties in a game. But he’s at least been in their skates before. And really, it wouldn’t do him good. Having got down from her section, Claude’s mother walks near the glass so that he could see her. She has a white Nevada Battleborn jersey on and already has it customized. Claude’s #70, with the A on the chest. The team made sure she and any other parents of first year players could have the opportunity to make it down to watch the season opener and their kid’s debuts. Knowing her son is frustrated, she doesn’t say a word, or try to be overbearing, just trying to give him a comforting grin. Removing his mask, Claue’s face is drenched in sweat after the overtime loss. He nods his head and places his blocker on the glass, with her placing her hand on the other side. The goaltender heads to the bench and his teammates are understandably disappointed. The goaltender mutters: “That’s just game one of sixty-five. We will be back at it tomorrow. It is not over.” He pats one of his teammates on the back who responds with a fist bump. As players head down the hall to the locker room, Coach Fan Cee taps Claude on the shoulder. “I’ll keep it quick. Thank you for making sure we get at least one point. Not the prettiest debut, but could be worse. We got something to build on.” Claude nods and heads to the tunnel. Some younger fans are reaching over for some high fives. He makes sure to greet some of them and thank them on his way to meet his teammates. . . . “Loss aside, after tonight, your journey in the SMJHL has officially begun.” Sitting in front of a backdrop with the Nevada Battleborn logo in a checkered pattern with various sponsors, Claude L’Castor is once again on the hot-seat, with his debut in the books. “So, how are you feeling?” Sipping a bottle of water on the table in front of him, Claude clears his throat and tries to give a straight forward answer. “A lot of mixed emotions. As a goaltender, you really hate to have the last moment of the game be a puck going past you. But skating out on the ice for the first time was a great feeling, hearing your name get called the first time at a new level.” Another member of the media stands up. “And how did you feel about your performance tonight?” “Shit” he would think to himself. But, the worst thing for a goaltender to do is to be in his own head. “Room to improve. Each time you face new players, opponents, new levels, you need to adjust. Then adjust again once they get a read on you. But, we did well enough for one point, which is better than nothing. My first goal is to be in a spot where I can put my team in a position to win games.” Trying to lighten the mood, he jokes. “Because eh, I do not expect the coach to be telling me to try to skate down the ice and score myself, so I gotta trust them with it, but it is easier said than done, non?” There’s some chuckles around the room. “Next game, Jack is the projected starter. Do you know when your next start is?” “No. That is the Coach’s job. All I can do is be ready for when it is my turn. To, uh, elaborate…” He tries to find the right words. “I want to try to be consistent in the goal, and I do not mean consistent losses, but I think as a goaltender, your team has to know you will be there for them. And as sort of the ‘young member’ of the captains, I want to find my voice and be a net positive on and off the ice, so that means learning from them and teammates like Jack who has a year up on me.” With L’Castor mentioning the name of his tandem buddy, there is a follow up there. “And how do you find Jack?” “Apart from not knowing his last name, he has been good. Tomorrow, I will be the one with the ball-cap on my head and I’ll be rooting for the team to bounce back.” Realising there isn’t some juicy headline to grab, the media members seem to have finished with Claude. “Well, we wish you luck for the next game.” “Merci.” Claude L’Castor stands up and walks out of the room, heading down the small stairs on the stage. Outside of the room, his agent stands in his now infamous turtleneck. Jason Rose extends his hand for a fist bump which Claude accepts. “Good job handling the media. Presenting yourself as a team guy, not making any waves yet.” “Would have preferred to be there talking about a win, but I can’t have them all, I guess?” L’Castor shrugs. “Game one of at least 30 or so for you. Things can change. But sometimes you’re just delt with a bad hand as a goaltender, you know that.” He pats Claude’s back. “That big breakout game will come. Just things need to come your way. Now how about you get ready, I’m sure your mom would like to see her son before you head home.” The two head down the hallway, getting through a hectic first night of the regular season. “…The house always wins. Play long enough, you never change the stakes, the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big, and then you take the house.” -Danny Ocean from Ocean’s Eleven October 26th Billings, Montana MetraPark Arena NBB4 GFG 0 The clock strikes zero for the third period, and with a good portion of home fans making their way to the exits, there isn’t much of a cheer from the crowd as the Grizzlies get shutout. But on the Nevada bench, there’s cheers and noise as they not just recorded their first shutout of the season, but rookie goaltender, Claude L’Castor, records the first in his career. Letting a big fist pump, Claude lets out a “Woo!” as his teammates hop the boards and skate towards him. The official, knowing the moment, grabs the game puck and tosses it to a team trainer. He brushes off the puck with the Grizzlies logo on one side and the league’s on the other, and heads down the tunnel, getting some tape ready. Claude faced 25 shots. Not exactly like when he received 50-against from top ranked team Quebec City, but enough where he was busy for the night and stayed locked in. Tony Bologna and Wednesday Shinetime, both of which also having strong games, Claude goes specifically to congratulate with fist pumps. The other half of his tandem, Jack, seems hyped and Claude and him share a brief goalie hug before the team raise their sticks to any of their fans who made the trip and head to the bench. “Shutout…” Claude murmurs to himself. “That feels good…” Tonight, everything clicked for the team and for him. Their perfect game. L’Castor walks into the visitor’s locker room and many of his teammates let out a cheer as they celebrate the win. Team captain Hip Hurts gives some brief words, hyping the team up before Coach Fan Cee steps in the room. He keeps it brief, not much is needed after a big win. He just encourages the team to not get complacent, and congratulates a few of the players who had a big night, including the two rookies Wednesday and Claude. After some time passes, the trainer comes in with the game puck. Around it is white tape and written on it is “1st SMJHL Shutout” with the date. He is handed it and takes a photo with it, still with his chest protector on, with that soon being on social media. “Tonight was a big first in your career as you managed to put up a clean sheet against the Grizzlies,” a reporter asks Claude as he stands in the hallway. No fancy media area for the road team. Wearing a team hoodie, Claude has a big smile on his face and scratches his growing beard. “How does it feel?” “Amazing. Whenever a shutout happens, it is not just something on your stat sheet, but the team’s. I will be keeping that puck for sure.” “And speaking of team success, your team has had quite an impressive first month, nearing the top of the league standings and are in contention for the Southern Conference lead. This was after the team was ranked relatively low in some pre-season rankings. What do you think is the key to it?” Claude looks to the side. If he was cocky he’d go “It is because I am the man,” but he’s still trying to get his footing in the league. “A combination of a few things, you know. Coach Cee pushes us hard, I think our offense is some of the most underrated in the league, and I’ve seen Jack come in hot.” “With Jack on a roll, if you have more nights like this, do you expect a goaltender battle for time in the net?” “Shit,” he thinks to himself. He never thought of it that way. Coach Cee did explain to them both that they should expect a mostly even number of games this season. But if Jack stays hot, would he be pushed out of a few more starts? He’d be happy for Jack, he doesn’t hate the guy, but it would not be fun being glued to the bench. He can see his agent down the hall, cutting him a look. Do not stir up controversy. “The playing time will sort itself out.” L’Castor gives a straightforward answer. “In the end, either one of us plays well, the team does well. It is win-win.” “Well, we hope if you get more nights like this, we’ll see more of Claude L’Castor. Thank you.” “Merci.” He gives a wave and as he walks, gives a big exhale. Talking to the media is always a stressful part. But, as long as the team keeps this up, questions like the last one would be a good problem to have… “I think that any city created to be that over-the-top tends to be slightly inspiring, if not frightening. Vegas is all about people being amped up and winning or losing. With all that energy comes additional pressure.” -Michael Symon November 13th: Las Vegas, Nevada Dodge Ram 1500 Hellcat Memorial Arena COL 7 NBB 2 The clock is dying down, but the fans still in attendance are letting their feelings known, jeering as Nevada is being blown out in what is a rough stretch for a team which started the season so well. They wish the start of October was back. Claude L’Castor, wearing the team’s alternate colours of black and neon blue, looks down and tries not to let his frustrations show. He only subbed in after the 7th goal was let in. Jack, after such a strong beginning to the season, has hit a rough patch. L’Castor could personally see some benefit, after all, if he maintains his general stretch of improvement, he can be a lock for the starting job. But he saw his frustration heading to the bench. He knows what it feels like, and he hates seeing a teammate struggle. The final seconds of the game pass by and the buzzer sounds. The announcer on the broadcast points out the heartbreaking stat for them. “Another loss for the Battleborn and that is just two points in the past eight games.” As Claude skates to the bench, he keeps his head down, but he can already see the range of emotions on the faces of his teammates. A sense of dread and anger is on the team. One of them won't see the next games, though that is another story. L’Castor looks up and sees some players already have left into the locker room. Coach Cee likely won’t even walk into the locker room this time. He already got some of his anger out from the last loss, and it’d be beating a dead ram at this point. Going into their home locker room, L’Castor hears second year player Drew McIntyre speak up, encouraging the team to pick themselves up. He keeps the message short, letting some of the team handle their emotions, but at least, shows he’s there for them. “No wonder he was given a letter last season.” Claude thinks to himself. Sitting in his corner stall, Claude looks around the room. Jack throws his jersey on the floor and rips off his chest protector, lying back and giving a great sigh. Two of the newest players, Ryan Fishman and Connor Berdard, who joined the team as waiver pickups and have been putting in effort, look frustrated. Leaning down, Claude L’Castor closes his eyes and looks up- To see the locker room empty. He is in his own little world. Breaking the silence of the white noise is the sound of footsteps. Walking next to him, wearing a pure white suit. Rene L’Castor. His late father. Seeing his dad sit down next to him, Claude breaks out a small grin. He knows this isn’t real, but he doesn’t care. “You’ve gotten quite big, boy.” “Hehe, I did not get my size from Mama.” Claud jokes with his dad. “No shit. And look at you. You’ve gone a long way since Lac De Castor. So all that money I spent on your pads was worth it.” “When mama told me the price, I will admit, I felt guilty.” “Don’t be. We supported you chasing your dream and you’re living it now.” There is a proud look on the face of Rene. “Well, this dream has felt a bit more like a nightmare the past couple of weeks.” “You’ve had losing streaks like this before.” He pats his son on the back. “You’ll get past it.” “I don’t know. This time I feel a bit more responsibility.” Claude looks down at the “A” on his chest. Even if he isn’t the captain, and he is in this role to ‘learn’ more than be the primary voice, he can't’ help but feel the weight of the team on his shoulders, even when he is on the bench. “Assistant captain?” Rene looks and seems impressed. “As a rookie goaltender no less, well that is something.” “I guess there has been nothing but pressure on me since I flew down to Vegas.” The young L’Castor admits. “I ended up jumping up big in the draft. The Coach, GM, even some of my teammates have big expectations for me, and not to mention I feel like if I answer one question wrong from the media, I will have my agent on my neck or trade rumours out of my ass.” “And some of that pressure comes from you now, does it?” Rene asks and his son nods. “Oui.” “That’s life, sometimes. Hockey, practicing law, love, anything. You’re never on your own and there is someone out there in some way, small or big, who relies on you.” “I suppose I asked for this, did I?” Claude asks. His dad simply chuckles. “And I didn’t ask for the debt I had with school that I only had fully paid off by the time you were in middle school. But I guess you have a little extra spotlight on you now. So, you want a little fatherly advice from beyond the grave?” “Sounds creepy, but sure.” Claude is freaked out slightly by the logistics of this. “You can’t change what happened. You can’t be perfect. There’s going to be ups and downs like this for the rest of your life on and off the ice. For these guys and girls in the room, and for yourself, just try to be the best you that you can be and lift them up when you can.” “I will.” Claude nods his head. “-And.” Rene is about to say something, but his son finishes for him. “There is the next one.” “Exactly. Now I’ll let you go for now.” He winks. “I’ll be around though. I got a front row view for every one of your games from here on out. Love ya, kid.” “Love you too, dad…” Opening his eyes, he sees his teammates still sulking a bit after the loss. Really, he can’t blame them. But, he feels that now he can speak up. Taking a deep breath, Claude stands up from his stall. With his body language, his teammates can tell he’s going to say something. He isn’t always the best when it comes to speeches, but he is going to do his best. "I feel you guys. I feel you.” He turns to the waiver pick ups, both of which are seaeted next to each other on the other side of the room. “First, I want to do something. Ryan, Connor, I know this is not our best stretch, but we are glad to have you here. There are a lot of good guys and gals here to learn from. If they treat you half as good as me, you'd be home.” Ryan and Connor nod with one of the veteran players near-by patting them on the back. “Just these results, it pisses me off." Shaking his head, Claude L'Castor raises his voice. "But I know taking it out on you guys will not get us out of this. Beating ourselves up will not get ourselves out of it. That is coach's job!" The joke at the end causes some snickers from teammates. A little humour solves a lot, and gets him through his nerves. "Drew is right. We will have to pick ourselves up.” He acknowledges the former rookie assistant captain. The Scottsman nods his head. He was looking for some respect, and it happened. “Whenever I have a bad shot go in, or a bad day, my Papa would always remind me that there's another coming. Another game is coming. Another shot will come. Another day. We need to remember that.Sure, maybe it will be shit? But maybe it will be better. We can't control that now... But what we can do is work for it now. There's some good players in this room. We will get there if we put in the fucking work. Tomorrow's practice, we will not cry around. We will not be pissed at ourselves, we will not take it out on each other, we will get better! That win will come, and by the time the playoffs come. We will be a better team! That is what matters in the end!” Hee is able to raise his voice and he gets some of his teammates pumped up. “Let's fucking go!" He shouts and the mood in the room begins to shift, one where there’s some hope. Claude sits down and this is enough for some other teammates to speak up and continue this chain of motivation, and support. He did his job. Feeling a weight off his chest, there is a small, but noticeable, growth in confidence in him. The decision to be an alternate captain, with his new place on the team and position was a head-scratcher for him. Even his fourth overall selection was a shock to him. But there’s some things which don’t appear on a stat sheet or a scouting report. Claude L’Castor may have what it takes to be an important voice in the locker room. Nevada would enter the next game against the Thunder Bay Walleye. They would suffer another loss, but they were able to keep it close, with a hot performance from the opposing goaltender keeping them from getting a tie. Disappointing, but the Battleborn would hold their heads up high. In the next game, they would finally snap their skid with a commanding 6-1 victory over the St. Louis Scarecrows. Though they would lose their next game, something in Claude seemed to begin to change. He would face 50 shots against Quebec City, though letting in six goals, his performance made some waves around the league. His save percentage has since began a steady climb up. Whether he wanted to or not: Claude L’Castor was stepping into the heat of the Vegas Lights. |
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