Archive of Our Own

Mini-Doc: Meet Ottawa’s 14 year-old hockey phenom, Shane Hollander

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B-roll of an upscale suburban street on a sunny day: big houses, tidy yards, expensive cars in driveways, and a group of teens walking down the sidewalk. 

Clips of kids playing at an outdoor pool, followed by a shot of two boys playing Call of Duty. 

Narrator: For fourteen year-old Shane Hollander, summer looks a little different. 

Cut to an indoor rink. SHANE weaves a puck through a series of cones and shoots it into an empty net, before coming to a sharp stop, spraying snow towards the camera. He’s alone on the ice, except for a coach. 

Coach: That was good, Shane. You were definitely faster that time. 

SHANE nods, leaning on his stick. 

Shane: It felt better. I was thinking about what you told me— like, watching the ice a little further ahead, not actually looking right at the puck. 

Narrator: This neighbourhood rink has become a second home to the fourteen year-old hockey sensation. 

SHANE leans against the boards, talking to an interviewer off-camera. His hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, his braces are peeking out when he smiles, and his freckled baby-face is still flushed from exertion.  

Shane: I skate pretty much every day. I love it. I eat, sleep, and breathe hockey. 

Clips from SHANE’s last hockey season, playing as a 13 year-old on a triple-A U16 team. He’s visibly smaller than all the other players, but his skills stand out from the crowd. 

Narrator: While most kids his age would be playing their first year of Bantam, Hollander spent the past season skating circles around players up to three years older than him, as the youngest player on his elite Minor Midget team. 

Coach: Shane is, quite honestly, one of the greatest athletes I’ve ever coached. I’ve never seen anything like it— at his age, to have the focus and mentality that he has, let alone the actual skills on the ice, is completely crazy. 

Narrator: With scouts across North America already keeping tabs on him, Hollander has one thing on his mind: the 2006 OHL draft. 

Cut back to SHANE. 

Shane: I know this season is gonna be a really big deal. I’ll almost be old enough to get drafted to the juniors in the spring— you normally have to be fifteen, and my birthday’s after the cutoff— but if I work really hard this year, they might be able to pick me anyways, even if I’m not old enough. 

Narrator: Exceptional status is the term on everyone’s lips when it comes to Hollander. The Canadian Hockey League allows standout players to be drafted underage on a case-by-case basis, if they prove they can keep up with the big kids. For Hollander, that would mean joining a league with young adults before he even turns fifteen. 

Shane: It doesn’t scare me, no. [He laughs.] I know I can do it. I’m just really focused on playing the best hockey that I can, and I’d love to do that at a really high level. But whatever happens, I just need to keep my head down and work hard. That’s it. 

SHANE leaves the rink, massive hockey bag slung over his shoulder. He greets YUNA and DAVID in the parking lot and climbs into the car. 

Narrator: Between elite hockey camps around Ontario, and private skills sessions at his home rink, hockey takes up a lot of Hollander’s day-to-day over the summer, but it’s certainly not the only thing on his plate. 

DAVID drives, while YUNA turns back to talk to SHANE. 

Yuna: After lunch, I’ll drop you off at Kumon for about an hour while I run some errands— and don’t forget Aunt Kira is coming over for a piano lesson later. 

Clips of SHANE studying, playing the piano, going for a run, and making lunch. 

Narrator: A gifted academic, a talented pianist, and a hockey prodigy, all before even starting high school— is there anything Hollander can’t do?

Cut to SHANE, in his room, sitting in front of a shelf full of trophies and medals and talking to the camera. He’s wearing a t-shirt and a puka shell choker. His hair is gelled into little spikes. 

Shane: Sometimes I just want to sit and play Xbox for a bit. Just be a normal kid, y’know? It can be hard to find time to, like… hang out with my friends, or do other stuff I wanna do. But I know that if I wanna go all the way with hockey, I have to make some sacrifices, keep putting the work in, and I’m willing to do that. My friends understand. 

More clips of SHANE on the ice, scoring goals and making incredible plays. 

Narrator: All the way, of course, means playing in the National Hockey League someday. Hollander will be eligible for the 2009 draft, and many scouts already have him on their radar, largely considered one of the greatest Canadian prospects in recent memory. 

SHANE and DAVID are playing in the driveway— DAVID in net, while SHANE takes shots on him, sending pucks flying off a little square of fake ice. 

Narrator: Shane wouldn’t be the first Hollander drafted to the show— his father, David, was a sixth-round pick for the Calgary Flames in 1984, though he never did suit up for an NHL game. 

Photos of a younger DAVID in goalie gear, dressed for the McGill Redbirds, and then the Calgary Flames. 

DAVID and YUNA speak to the camera, in their living room. 

David: I played four years at McGill University, and went out for a few development camps in Calgary after I was drafted, but that was as far as I got. People ask me where Shane gets his talent, and I tell them— not me, that’s for sure. I love helping him practice, but some of the stuff I see him do out there is just beyond crazy. 

Yuna: We had Shane in skates before he could even walk. [She laughs.] We both love hockey, so it only felt right to get our son started in it, too… though I can definitely say we had no idea how fast things would take off. He was such a natural. 

Some older footage of SHANE, about six years old, flying down the ice and scoring a goal. YUNA and DAVID cheer loudly behind the camera.  

Different shots of YUNA, SHANE, and DAVID, speaking to camera.  

Yuna: It can be hard sometimes, with all the attention he’s been getting— not all of it is positive. Sometimes I’ll be in the stands, hearing what people say about him: that they hope he gets injured, calling him overrated or a showoff, really talking down on him and just being mean. It’s frustrating because, well, how is a grown adult going to talk about a little kid like that? It gets under my skin, for sure. 

Shane: One time I heard someone’s parents making fun of me, while I was waiting for my mom after a game. That was really weird. [He frowns.] It can be a little hard to fit in, being so much younger than everyone I play with, but my teammates are pretty good about it. They try to include me in stuff, even though, like, they’re all getting their drivers’ licenses and everything, and I only just finished grade eight. They don’t always want to hang out with a kid, but— I like when I can do stuff with my team, like when we’re travelling for games and go to the hotel pool. 

David: We do worry sometimes about the pressure getting to him, but he’s always been a really mature, levelheaded kid. He handles himself really well. 

Footage of the HOLLANDER family eating dinner. The camera lingers on SHANE’s chopsticks for a moment. 

Shane: I was working on my Japanese homework at Kumon today. [He laughs.] They said my kanji look really nice, which is funny because my other handwriting is usually so bad. All year at school, Madame Rivard said she could barely read my book reports and dictées. 

Narrator: Yes, if Hollander wasn’t impressive enough, he also speaks three languages: English, French, and Japanese. His parents say that staying on top of his studies in all three is part of what keeps him so grounded. 

YUNA speaks to the camera. 

Yuna: People call me a tiger mom, which is a bit of a stereotype, but you know what? I kind of embrace that. I do push Shane to excel in school, in his activities, all of it— but I think anyone can see that it’s paying off just fine. He’s a happy kid, he works hard, and he’s incredible at what he does. I think it’d be a waste if we weren’t trying to set him up for success. 

Back at the table, DAVID refills SHANE’s water glass. 

David: Joey from down the street called the house phone earlier. He wanted to know if you would go out for a bike ride with him tonight, I told him you’d call back after dinner and let him know. 

Shane: Sweet. Yeah, I’ll go. Can I have a dollar to buy a slushy?

Yuna: You can’t go look around your room for a dollar? What happened to your allowance?

Shane: I’m saving it for a new video game! It’s just a dollar, Mom. Please?

Yuna: You are ridiculous, you know. 

David: Grab a loonie out of my wallet before you go, kiddo. It’s fine. 

Cut to SHANE waving to his parents as he walks his bike down the driveway, where a couple of friends wait on the sidewalk. 

Narrator: He may be forecasted as Canada’s next big hockey star, but for now, Shane Hollander is also just a fourteen year-old kid on summer holidays. He likes slushies, bike rides, and his Xbox… and he really, really likes hockey. 

Cut back to SHANE running drills at the rink with his coach. 

Coach: This kid is one to watch, that’s for sure. I hope people will watch this back in, y’know, ten, twenty years, once he’s a big star, and think— wow, he was something special right from the beginning. 

SHANE skates over and stops in front of the camera with a grin. He’s talking to his coach. 

Shane: When I win the Stanley Cup someday, I’m gonna come back to this rink and host a big party. You can come if you want. 

Coach: Gee, thanks kid. I’m looking forward to it. 

-

The video has been over for long enough that his screen has gone dark, but Ilya is still stuck staring at the device. 

He hasn’t let any tears spill over yet, but god, he’s going to cry. His throat is tight, and his lower lip is trembling slightly. 

He’d never seen that video before. Shane was so tiny. He was so small and serious and adorable. He was under so much pressure, so young, and he was smiling through it like a little star. 

That’s his Shane. 

"Hey, babe. Do you— woah… Ilya. Are you okay?"

There’s Shane himself, coming into the living room of the house that they share, his brow pinched into a worried scrunch. 

"I’m fine," Ilya chokes out, completely unconvincingly.

Shane rushes to him.

"What’s wrong, baby? What happened?"

Ilya drops his phone onto the couch and gestures helplessly towards it.

"I saw, um— a stupid video. Sorry." He takes a breath, eyes still teary. "I promise, I really am fine."

Shane’s expression goes very soft as he cups Ilya’s cheek in the palm of his hand.

"Not one of those giving my dog the best day ever before he gets put down videos again… I told you to just stop watching those, honey."

"No, no." Ilya laughs wetly as he shakes his head. "Not that. It was… Meet Ottawa’s 14 year-old hockey phenom, Shane Hollander." His voice breaks slightly. "Someone tweeted it to me. You were so small."

Shane breathes out a little laugh as an adorable pout settles on his face.

"Oh, Ilya…"

He looks incredibly endeared.

"Sorry," Ilya whispers, letting Shane wipe the couple of tears that spill over. "I don’t know why it made me cry. You had this stupid little shell necklace, and a silly haircut, and braces, and— you were so serious about hockey, but then you asked your mama for a dollar for a slushy, and it was so cute."

Shane flushes a little.

"Oh my god. That’s so embarrassing."

"No," Ilya coos. "Not at all. You were so sweet and smart and good at hockey, and you said people were mean to you, and— I want to find these parents who would talk bad about you in the stands and fucking kill them."

"They were just jealous, because their kids sucked," Shane scoffs. "I guarantee my mom was saying way worse about everyone on my team… just not in public, because she’s not an idiot."

Ilya laughs. He adores his beautiful, snarky Shane, and his lovely, cutthroat mother-in-law. 

"Did you ever have your Stanley Cup party at the rink?"

Shane nods. 

"Yeah, for my first one. It was cute. The whole neighbourhood came, and all my family."

"I wish I could have been there."

Shane’s eyes go even softer. 

"Yeah, me too."

It’s quiet for a moment. 

"Our next cup," Ilya says, "together, we will go back there again and have another big party."

Shane smiles. 

"Okay."

"And all our favourite people will come, and everyone who was ever mean to you will be so jealous, and it will be the best day ever."

Shane laughs so softly it’s barely there, quiet and affectionate. 

"Okay."

Ilya decides to press his luck.

"You can wear a shell necklace, just like baby Shane, and—"

"Yeah, no, not happening."

Ilya finally leans forward and kisses him. 

Shane melts into it. 

When they pull away, Shane is still smiling. 

"You know, I have a teenage Ilya video that makes me cry, too."

"What? Where?"

Shane blushes, hard. 

"It’s from— when you were a rookie in Boston, they did this Christmas video, where you guys went around to people’s houses to surprise fans with gifts. I found it again a while ago, on YouTube. You’re so little in it, and your English was still pretty choppy, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen."

Ilya vaguely remembers that. Those first couple of years in Boston, he hated doing media stuff like that— his English was perfectly passable, really, but he’d get nervous on camera, and the most basic phrases would suddenly desert him. He couldn’t get out of doing the Christmas video, though, and he’d been freaking out the whole time: talking to a bunch of strangers, on camera and unscripted, was sort of his nightmare. 

"There’s this one part," Shane continues, "where the people you and Cliff are visiting have a dog, and you just— sat down right there in their entryway, and let it climb all over you. I remember you said: so who is this puppy dog name? and something about it just gets me choked up every time. You were trying so hard, and it was so sweet."

Ilya snorts. 

"Hollander, you are obsessed with me."

Shane grins. 

"I really, really am. It’s not like you’re much better."

"Ah, well." Ilya shrugs. "You got me there."

One more brief kiss. 

"Okay, right. I remember why I came in here," Shane says, suddenly back to business. "Do you wanna go out for dinner tonight? There’s this new vegan place downtown that I think could be good."

Ilya isn’t particularly interested in vegan food, but he is interested in going on dates with Shane, so he nods. 

"Works for me."

"Cool." Shane stands up from where he’d crouched in front of Ilya, and pulls his phone out. "I’ll book us a table, and I’ll text you the menu so you don’t have to spend forever deciding what to get once we’re there."

Ilya is so terribly, irrevocably in love with him. 

He leans back, relaxing into the couch, and lets out a happy sigh. 

"Thank you, my lover. I will decide before we even get there."

Shane turns back to him with a grin, already on his way out of the room. 

"Perfect. Be ready to go around six."

Ilya Rozanov has never been so happy in his life.