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Kent grins into the camera, puck clasped tightly in his hand and held up excitedly beside his face.
#90 - 1ST NHL GOAL vs. TOR
His first NHL goal. His first fucking goal in the big leagues. The guys keep patting his back, congratulating him, messing up his sweaty hair even more. His grin is a permanent fixture on his face.
The last month of camp and regular practice then pre-season had left Kent with a foreboding feeling in the back of his brain. Was this it? The thought that it wasn’t going to last - he’d get sent down to the AHL in no time, first overall draft pick be damned - was always lurking in the shadows.
But tonight felt electrifying the moment he stepped out onto the ice for warmup. They were on home ice - the stand were slowly filling up. All his shots were hitting the back of the net. He felt good; he felt on top of his game. This is what he was missing all along - that love for the ice and the game, the adrenaline coursing through him.
After what feels like both the first and thirtieth interview he’s done since the game’s ended, Kent gets a chance to check his phone. There’s a voicemail from his mom and he eagerly listens to it, ignoring the irritable feeling he gets when his sweat dries slowly on his skin.
“Hi dear! We just saw you score! We wish we could have been there! What an excit-Let me talk to hi-Stacey, calm down, I’ll let yo-Hi Kenny! What a sick goal! That dangle! What a fucking beau-Stacey! Don’t use that language!-Sorry, mom. We love you, Kenny! Good luck! Call us back!”
Kent’s chest is bursting with happiness. He misses his mom and sister, wish they had been able to stick around beyond his first game. He’d love to be hugging them now - can imagine the squeals Stacey would be making at getting covered in sweat and grime - can imagine the beautiful smile on his mother’s face and the small wink she always gives him, letting him know she’s there and watching.
He places the puck on his shelf and sighs. This is the happiest he’s been in a long time and he’s miles away from anyone he wants to celebrate it with.
**
The room is loud, the air is humid, and Kent Parson is sticky with sweat and champagne and who knows what else. Someone’s got glitter and Kent is aware he’ll be finding it in everything he owns for the next few years but he doesn’t care.
“WE FUCKING WON!” screams out Pickard and another cork goes flying overhead, champagne spraying everybody closest to the goalie.
The Las Vegas Aces have won the Stanley Cup for the first time in franchise history. Kent can’t keep the laughter from bubbling out, face cracked in half with a wide grin. His first season in the fucking NHL and he’s won the Stanley Cup. He scored the winning goal in game seven of the Stanley Cup finals.
Some of the guys start chanting his name until the whole room is screaming it. Parson Parson Parson.
Swo and Mashkov hoist the Cup towards Kent, champagne sloshing around in the bowl. Kent gets his lips on the cool metal and chugs what he can, the rest of the liquid spilling out down his chin until he’s sputtering.
Kent pulls away and lets out a guttural scream, the guys following suit. Another bottle pops and balls of sticky tape get thrown into the crowd. There’s laughter and disbelief in the air. They did it - all of them together achieved the highest honor in hockey.
We Are The Champions starts blasting in the room and there’s a mixture of boo’s and howling laughter before everybody starts singing along. Guys are dancing with each other - Mashkov is now trying to chug from two champagne bottles at once.
One of the coaches starts trying to tell people their plane leaves in two hours but it’s drowned out as the music gets turned up even more.
Kent watches the room in awe - watches as alcohol and a sombrero get passed around. It’s a complete chaotic mess and Kent wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
**
“Oh my god!” screams Stacey, leaping the front steps of the apartment building.
It’s the beginning of August and Kent’s day with the Cup has finally arrived. New York is humid and the temperature is only going to rise steadily throughout the day.
Stacey flings herself into his body, arms wrapping around his neck. Kent holds on tightly, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and whatever perfume she’s currently wearing.
“Hey kiddo - you’ve gotten so big!”
Kent spins her around a bit, ignoring the dirty looks of paserbys on the sidewalk he’s narrowly missing with her feet. Eventually, he lets go, letting her drop back down to her feet.
“And you’ve won the Stanley Cup!”
Kent laughs and shrugs - yeah, he guess he did.
His mother, Susan, pushes in front of Stacey to give him a hug of her own. Kent lingers, not wanting to let go. He grew up at the rink or living out of Billet homes in Quebec but he never got used to living away from his mother. There’s always an ache in his heart that never truly disappears until he’s back in her company.
“We’re proud of you, Kenny,” Susan says as she pulls away, left hand briefly patting him on the cheek.
Tears well up in his eyes and he stares down at her. The lines in her face have grown but she still looks as beautiful as she always did.
“Come look at the Cup!” Kent says, pushing away any unnecessary emotions. Today was a happy day.
Stacey and Susan make all the appropriate noises and comments as they gingerly touch the trophy. Stacey begs Kent to hold it. Kent glances at the nearby handle who just shrugs in response. Not like the Cup hasn’t been dropped before. Not like it hasn’t been dropped within the past month.
Stacey holds it by her thighs for a couple seconds before swinging it above her head. Kent stares incredulously at his mother who mouths, ‘ Swimming ’ at him which makes sense. He hates how much he misses despite their weekly phone calls.
“You want a try, mom?”
Susan laughs and shakes her head. “With my luck, my arms would rip right out of their sockets.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Stacey interrupts, passing the cup back to the handler.
“St. Mary’s then the ASPCA before back here for dinner.”
Stacey bends over with laughter and Kent frowns at her.
“You’re taking the cup to an animal shelter? The animals don’t give two fucks, Kenny!”
“Language,” Susan and Kent say simultaneously.
“If you don’t want to come adopt a cute kitten with me,” Kent continues, crossing his arms, nose turned up in mock airiness, “Then that’s fine. You can stay here.”
Stacey gasps and immediately hangs herself off of Kent’s arms like a small child. He staggers with the weight, trying not to drop her on her ass. Sometimes it’s easy for him to forget she’s fifteen and not five. He feels bad for his mother having to put with two hyperactive children for so long.
“No! No, Kent, I’m sorry, please let me come with you! I’ll be so nice to you!”
Kent smirks down at her.
“You promise to be nice? No comments about my hair or lack of girlfriend?”
Stacey stares up at him with wide green eyes. He can see the inner struggle warring across her face. It’s in her blood to be sarcastic and make brash comments.
She sighs and nods, “Yes. I promise. I want to look at the kittens!”
“Fine. You coming too, mom?”
Susan shakes her head, taking a step back towards the apartment building.
“You two go. I’ve spent enough time in that hospital to last me my whole life.”
Stacey had spent a lot of her time as a kid in and out of the hospital with a narrow aortic heart valve. Susan spent a lot of her time split between work, the hospital, and getting Kent to his various hockey practices.
Kent pulls his mom into a hug, kissing the side of her forehead. She pats him on the back and waves as she watches them clamber into the vehicle.
**
“What about this one?” Stacey asks Kent for about the billionth time.
Kent peers over her shoulder at the orange and grey kitten. It’s cute, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s gigantic brown eyes aren’t really doing it for Kent.
He sighs, and does a cursory sweep over the room full of cages. He’d love to take them all - put all of these wonderful animals in homes with a loving family. Maybe one day, after he retires, he’ll buy a farm somewhere and just adopt a ton of cats. Let them roam free.
“How many kittens do you think would fit in the Cup?” Stacey asks and Kent’s grateful for how well she can read his moods even now.
She’s staring up at him with that look of needing to help, of needing to make him smile, so Kent gives her a small quirk of his lips and says, “Let’s find out.”
They quickly learn only ten can fit into the cup comfortably without any danger of one of them slipping out. Some of the staff are taking pictures on their phones while Stacey takes a video. Kent’s grin must be blinding but he can’t help love the feeling of soft fur and the sound of loud purrs. It’s gentle, comforting, and fills him up with an endless amount of joy.
Suddenly, a loud hissing rips through the air and Kent cranks his head around to see a pure white fluff ball hunched up on the floor.
“Oh no,” one of the staff breathes out. “Who let Kitty out of her cage?”
Another staff member slowly makes his way towards the cat, hands outstretched. The cat swipes at him and hisses again. It’s smushed face turns to Kent and it’s blue eyes suck him in. This is the cat he wants. This is the cat he needs.
“I want that one,” Kent says and the entire room freezes.
“Oh, no,” someone says. “Kitty’s a menace, you don’t want-”
“I want her.”
The guy slowly advancing on the cat shrugs and takes a large step back.
“She’s all yours if you can catch her.”
Kitty stares at Kent as he makes his way over to her, muttering soft words at her. Hey there, girl. Aren’t you pretty? Look at you. You’re beautiful, aren’t ya?
Eventually, after a couple scratches and some general unhappy noises, Kitty is perched in Kent’s arms like she’s the Queen of the world.
“Look at her, Stace,” Kent says and Stacey scrunches up her nose.
“That is an ugly cat.”
“Hey now.” Kent frowns but keeps his eyes on Kitty. “You’re not an ugly cat, are you? No you aren’t.”
Stacey pretends to barf at his baby voice but Kent ignores her.
“You can change her name, if you want,” another staff member tells him. “She’s only been with us a couple weeks and we didn’t know what her name was, hence Kitty.”
With blue eyes and a rough personality, Kent knows exactly who he wants to name her after.
And yet.
“Kit Purrson.”
Stacey bends over, resting her weight on her knees, as she cackles with laughter.
“You are the biggest dweeb ever.”
Kent smiles at Kit who takes a swipe at his face which he manages to dodge at the last second.
“Pretty much, yeah.” Kent grins at his sister. “And you love me for it.”
Stacey rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile.
**
PLAYER Q&A
By NHLPA Staff // December 7, 2016
NAME:
Kent Parson
HOMETOWN:
New York, NY
MY JOB:
Hockey Player
ALWAYS TRAVEL WITH:
Phone
MY NUMBER ONE PET PEEVE:
Chewing with your mouth open
IF I COULD ONLY EAT ONE THING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE IT WOULD BE:
Piiizzaaaa
THE TV SHOW I CAN’T MISS:
Mad Men
I’M EMBARRASSED [BLANK] IS ON MY PLAYLIST:
Nothing
BEFORE A GAME I ALWAYS:
Nap & eat spaghetti
IF I COULD GO ANYWHERE WITH ANYONE IT WOULD BE:
Europe
WITH:
My sister and my cat, Kit Purrson
MY FAVOURITE SPORT TO WATCH (OTHER THAN HOCKEY) IS:
Baseball
AND I ROOT FOR:
Mets
THE BEST PART ABOUT BEING AN NHL PLAYER:
Playing the game I love with people who I admire
**
Space Stace
You can't bring a cat on vacation, dork!
Kent
Watch me ;)