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Macklin Celebrini was sat on a flight soaring over Europe and wasn't sure how he got there.
The plan had been simple, go to Switzerland, play for his country again, win gold and come home to Vancouver. He'd spend time with his family, train a bit and then go do some brand work. Easy plan.
That hadn't happened.
Mack was named Captain of his national team. Instead of just playing for Canada, he would be leading it. Added onto that was the late appearance of Sidney Crosby who had refused the captaincy no matter how much Mack begged him to take it, he could already see the hate comments he was bound to have received for "stealing" the C from Sid. Mack had big shoes to fill and the eyes of a nation on him.
But it wasn't to be and he couldn't produce a gold medal of Canada.. Canada ended up fourth, not even able to win a bronze medal. Mack had put everything in, every ounce of his blood sweat and tears, had left it all on the ice, he scored the goals, got all the assists, was one of the tournament's top scorers, but it wasn't enough.
It was painful. Excruciating.
Mack had been getting ready to wallow, to head back to Vancouver, where his family were busy and he would mostly be left to his own devices, when a shadow appeared in front of him.
Looking up, there he was. Standing tall and proud, regal and captainly, not at all like he had just had a 19 year old calling the shots over him, was Sidney Crosby.
Sid looked down at him, with those kind eyes that had looked at Mack with awe and happiness since they first played together, those eyes that could offer a shoulder without saying a single word.
And he offered him an opportunity. Mack had already had the opportunity to go to Nova Scotia and train with Sid, as well as Nate, but he was less important. This offer was something different. Something more.
Every year, in the off-season, Sid made the trek and spent some time in Ireland. Sid told him how he enjoyed the anonymity Ireland offered, hockey didn't really exist over there and so Sid wasn't a well known face. Instead, he could spend a week off from being Sid the Kid, face of a franchise, of a whole sport, and could simply be Sidney the man. He would go play golf, travel to some cool historical places, and generally just be a normal nerdy guy for a week. It was one of the one releases he gave himself, before going home to Nova Scotia and beginning to train.
And he was offering for Mack to join him.
Looking at his own plans, going to Vancouver, where he would likely be alone as his family was busy with work and life, where he would wallow and fester in his own self-hatred, Mack made a decision.
And that was how Mack found himself flying over France, with Sidney Crosby beside him, on an early morning short haul flight to Dublin. The two of them had left their Swiss hotel early, an early flight was the only one with seats remaining for two. The coaching staff knew Sid was going straight to Ireland after the competition, and took him kidnapping Mack along with him in good humour, sending them both off with well wishes for the off-season. Hockey Canada had also taken their gear for them, promising them it would make its way back to their relevant cities, without them having to drag it around Ireland, so both were travelling light. Sid had some extra non-Hockey Canada branded clothes, but Mack had planned to go straight home, so beyond a couple of plain t-shirts, he was repping Canada hard.
They had managed to find a clothes shop in the airport, one that was open in the early hours of the morning, though they probably shouldn't have been surprised, time never was real in an airport and so neither were the rules about when shops should be open. They stocked up on some essentials, Sid had offered to leave Mack to it, not wanting to step where he wasn't wanted, but Mack, whether he wanted to admit it or not, was a bit emotionally fragile still and couldn't deal with Sid leaving him, even if only for a short time, and so Sid stayed.
It would also be the beginning of a saga that would follow the two around for the whole holiday.
"Oh, it's so lovely to see a father and son on a trip together," the cashier at the tills spoke. The two of them subtly looked around the shop, trying to scope out who the cashier was speaking about, maybe they were just making conversation, but on looking around, it was clear they were the only people in the shop.
After that realisation, it took a couple of seconds for the meaning of their words to sink in before Mack went pink and ducked his head down, ears practically glowing with how red they were. Sid also blushed, though to a much lesser extent, waving off the cashier with a simple "thank you."
It wasn't until they were leaving the shop, Mack only just beginning to stop glowing, that he spoke, "they thought we were father and son?!"
"Uh-huh." Sid vocalised his affirmation.
"Father and son? Wait..." Mack seemed to clock something, whisper yelling, "you didn't say no?! You went with it?!"
"It felt easier to just go with it than explain the whole situation."
"What, so you're happy to get called a 19 year old's dad?"
"I'd rather be seen as a former teen parent than a trafficker, and those are your main two options when two guys with as large an age difference as us are travelling together."
Mack wasn't sure what to say that so simply nodded, going into his head to logic out the fact that Sidney Crosby had just accepted being called his father, and seemed to have no problem with it.
This all led them to where they were now, after going through passport control and bypassing the luggage carousels due to only having hand luggage, the two headed out of the airport and down to catch a ride to the hotel. Sid had a hotel booked for the duration of his stay, and had called them last night to look at changing from a single to a set of 2 beds. He had stayed at the hotel for years, since he first started coming to Ireland, on the suggestion of Mario Lemieux, and so had built up a good relationship with them, and so they were happy to accommodate a last minute change.
Arriving at the hotel, they checked in and made their way upstairs, dropping their bags as soon as they got in, Mack flopping down straight onto the bed he wanted, before raising his head, realising he probably should have asked which one Sid wanted, seeing as he had hijacked Sid's holiday. Sid stood where the entrance hallway opened up into the room, watching Mack flop around with a smile on his face, glad to see the kid acting like a kid.
"You're all good kid, I don't mind. I'm just gonna grab a shower, wash the airplane off me. Have a look online, see if there's anything nearby you want to do. We've got all week to explore, today we'll just stay close by, get some food, and start to destress."
"Your holiday starts today, Celebrini."
And with that, Sid swept off, grabbing a pair of shorts and underwear as he went by his bag, and heading into the bathroom.
Mack had a mission now, Sid had given him something to do. He could do that. He opened maps and Google and began researching. By the time Sid left the bathroom, towelling at his hair, he had an excited teen still sprawled across the bed, who began speaking as soon as Sid came into his peripheral vision, spouting off all of the places he had found and ideas he had had. Sid was happy to sit on his own bed, now that he was clean, and pull his feet up to rest after an early morning of travelling, and let Mack talk at him. Sid knew Mack didn't often have the chance to be an excited teenager, so any opportunity he had on this trip, he was going to help Mack realise it.
Sid listened to his ideas, and knowing the things he wanted to do, he knew this holiday would be good. Once Mack finally ran out of breath, seemingly flushing with pride and embarrassment as he realised how much he just spoke, Sid returned the favour, speaking about the things he would like to do on this holiday. Many of the things overlapped or were in close vicinity to one another, and so, between the two of them, a plan for the week developed.
First on the list, golf.
The two of them were still on Swiss time, and so were able to wake early to get one of the early tee times, being some of the first people out on the greens.
Golf and hockey players may be a stereotype, especially during the Stanley Cup playoffs, but stereotypes are often true for a reason, and Sid had come to love a game of golf after so many years in the league. Mack was picking it up, but he only had a few seasons worth of hockey experience in comparison to Sid's two decades.
Even if he wasn't great, it was still a fun game, full of laughter at bad shots and jokes in equal amounts. The grounds were beautiful, as expected for an Irish golf course, and so even when playing bad, the aesthetic of the place certainly made up for it.
The game was rounded out by a member of staff in the clubhouse calling them, "a perfect father-son duo."
Almost every night ended with a good drink, but the night of their first proper day, after golf concluded, was a night in which Mack took the idea of drowning his sorrows to the extreme, under Sid's watchful eye.
The two decided to do a bar crawl, Mack never having the opportunity to participate in one, going to university in America and then being drafted and having to have a picture perfect brand. The two proceeded to hit every bar or pub in the local vicinity, drinking whatever was on draft or recommended, some positive, a good amount awful, talking to whoever was nearby about whatever came to mind.
Sid was happily buzzed, still cognizant and able, which came from 20 years of partying with hockey players and multiple cup celebrations in which everyone lost the ability to understand the concept of sober for at least a week. Mack on the other hand was less able, having drunk some fruity concoction at the last place that tasted of fruit juice but had the alcohol lever to power a car or strip paint, and it was making itself known. Mack had entered the giggly faze of drunk, listing into Sid's side as he told him funny things that had happened over the season and things Will Smith had told him.
There was a lot of "Smitty said" in Mack's stories but Sid thought that better to address when Mack was sober enough to stand up under his own willpower.
The two left the bar they were in, Sid deciding to call it a night before it became physically impossible to manoeuvre Mack any more than it was already hard. With one arm wrapped around Mack's waist, Sid pulled his phone out of his pocket to book a taxi, but in doing so, he let Mack go, Mack setting off at a wandering pace before quickly losing his footing and going crashing down, face planting into the pavement. Laughter echoed from the smokers around the local bars, watching fresh faces deal with alcohol was a favourite pass time of theirs. One such onlooker yelling out "Hey! Old man! Your kid's meant to escorting you, not the other way around." Much to the raucous laughter of the fellow smokers.
What neither knew was that on the other side of the road, two friends stood watching this go down.
"It's definitely them."
"No, it's not."
"I'm telling you, I'm certain. I would recognise that face anywhere. Those grey streaks are distinct."
"If I follow your logic, then Mr magic on his skates Macklin Celebrini just face planted drunk into a pavement in Dublin...Mr you can't touch me and I stay up no matter what, and you think he's the guy lay on the floor inhaling who knows what off the pavement."
"I know, I know, it's insane. But that has to be them. Their faces are identical. And, Celebrini has just come off his major loss as captain, if there's any time to let loose, its now. And with Crosby watching him, I don't think he could be safer."
"...I may be coming round to this, dammit."
"I'm totally posting about this."
It's one of the middle days of the trip and the two are meandering there way around Dublin with little in the way of a plan. They had already done a load of stuff and had even more booked and planned, today was just a day for wandering and seeing where their feet led them. Where it led them today was a second hand antiques shop tucked away down a small alley. It was old, with the musty smell that made you want to sneeze, but it had that magic that made you want to stay.
The two of them were wandering around, peering into the maze of shelves, seeing what things they could find. They had no intention of buying anything, transporting it home would be a nightmare, but both enjoyed the calmness the shop offered.
Sid was peering down at a shelf full of old war books, and photo albums when he heard Mack call for him. While he has stopped, Mack had headed a bit ahead, so he made his way over to where he could hear Mack calling from, turning a corner and there he was.
"Yeah, kid?"
"It's you."
Sid blinked.
"What?"
"It's you."
"Kid, what on earth are you on about?"
Sid made his way over so he was stood beside Mack and then looked into the space between some larger wooden cupboards and he saw it.
A large stuffed penguin.
A taxidermy penguin.
Mack started cracking up, seeing Sid's confused face staring at the bird.
Looking a bit closer, Sid noticed something on the plinth the bird was set onto. A small plague with an engraved message on it.
He read it aloud.
"Pete, may he rest in peace."
There was a small symbol beside the message, and when Sid rubbed over it, the grime cleared and it could be seen clearly.
"Holy shit. Oh my god..."
Mack had stopped laughing, sensing something in Sid's behaviour and then his tone that said there was something more going on.
"What? What's wrong? Don't tell me you know that penguin. The whole Penguins penguins thing is a funny joke but your not Aquaman."
"Mack."
Mack shut up.
"Mack, this is, holy shit. This is Pete."
"Yeah..."
"Pete, original Pittsburgh Penguins mascot Pete? Used to lead the players onto the ice Pete. Died and was stuffed and put on display and went missing Pete. That Pete. He's here. Oh my god."
"Wow..." Mack had no idea what was going on, but Sid looked like Christmas, New Year and his birthday had all come at once, so he was reacting how he thought he should.
"I need to, I need..." Sid began to speak before he had formulated his next thought.
"He needs to come back to Pittsburgh."
With little more fanfare, Sid picked Pete up, hugging him close to his body like he was expecting someone to swoop in and steal him from out of his arms. He set off marching to the till, where an older lady was sat, knitting behind the counter.
Sid urgency clearly warred with his need to be polite, the politeness won. As expected from a Canadian.
"Hello. Can I please buy this?"
The transaction was smooth, and soon the two of them were leaving with a "I hope you and your son enjoy the penguin." following them, the two walking along the street with a giant penguin in Sid's arms, wrapped up in bubblewrap.
What a weird trip.
Mario Lemieux wasn't expecting to hear anything from any of his players this early into the off-season. Everyone was off up with family and so he didn't think he would be hearing anything from anyone.
He was soon to be proven wrong.
Sat in his office working on some paperwork, his phone lit up with a text from Sid. Texts from Sid were the most common ones he got from any of his players, but they were still fairly rare. He kne Sid was in Ireland so had no idea what he could be messaging for, but he assumed it was probably golf related.
It was not golf related.
Opening it he came face to face with Sid, Macklin Celebrini, who he didn't know had gone with Sid, and a taxidermied penguin.
A second picture followed, a plaque on the bottom of the Penguins plinth.
He read it and his world turned upside down.
What on earth was Sid's life that he found a Penguins lost treasure while on holiday.