Chapter Text
Dan loved the draft. He knew a lot of the other GMs found it boring, especially when they had to socialise afterwards, but not Dan. There was something about meeting all the hopeful young men that he'd only ever seen on scouting tapes and getting to chat to them and size them up. Partly, it reminded him of his own draft. He couldn't help but remember the heady mix of nerves and excitement that filled him as he realised he was really there and it was really happening. He saw the same mix of feelings reflected in the faces of all of tonight's young hopefuls. And he was the one that got to make dreams come true for a handful of the lads. It was almost enough to make him giddy!
Tonight was a particularly special night. As GM of the Boston Raiders, he had the first pick of the draft. He himself had been a second round pick, perfectly respectable but nothing to write home about. Being chosen first was what all young hockey players dreamed of when they dreamed of joining the NHL and he got to make that announcement tonight. It was also going to be a good thing for the team. They'd been floundering at the bottom of the league for a couple of years now as their star lineup began to age. Some of their best players had retired over the last three seasons and the young blood they'd called up to fill the slots just hadn't panned out. He needed to make the right call here tonight.
There were two young men he had his eye on.
Shane Hollander. Canadian, just like Dan himself. Silver medalist at the International Prospect Cup, superstar centre and a very polite young man. Dan had very much enjoyed his conversation with him during the combine interviews. He'd been quiet and a little reserved, but personable enough. Some of his answers suggested someone had already started media training him or perhaps he just watched too much hockey programming. His understanding of the game and ability to rattle off relevant (and accurate) statistics had been impressive and Dan suspected he'd had more opinions about the Raiders’ current roster than he had been willing to share. He understood that, of course, but he wished he'd been able to draw some of them out. It would have told him a lot about how Shane Hollander thought.
Ilya Rozanov. Russian. Gold medalist at the International Prospect Cup, superstar centre and a young man of few words. His interview during combine had been harder to get a read on. One of these days, the NHL was going to enter the 21st century and hire translators for the prospects who weren't fluent in English. As it was, the two of them had muddled through. Rozanov was sharp and intelligent, even if his vocabulary was limited. He'd also had opinions about the current Raiders roster and had not been afraid to share them. “Too old” had been the kindest of it. He was rough around the edges in a way that interested Dan. It was very difficult to get a clear read on Ilya Rozanov.
Both of them had phenomenal potential. Both of them were already NHL ready. Both of them would fill the most important empty slot on the team. Both of them were, despite trying to play it cool, clearly hungry to be picked first. They were most skilled in different areas, but in ways that left them almost equal overall. It was impossible to know which of them would mature into the better hockey player when they finally hit their prime, but the results of their testing at combine spoke for themselves. Really, it came down to who was going to be the better choice for the team. Who was going to fit in? It came down to personality. In that, they were very different.
And Dan had to choose one.
Hollander was the safe choice. Rozanov, the wild card.
He had to get it right.
Holding his wine and pretending to drink it, Dan smiled as Rozanov approached with a man who must be his father. They shook hands and exchanged all the usual pleasantries and everything seemed perfectly normal. Rozanov was perhaps a little distracted, glancing around until his gaze caught on something over the balcony on the floor below. Dan let his mouth offer further congratulations as he followed the lad's eyeline and saw Hollander. Of course, he'd be keeping an eye on the player the media was already calling his biggest rival.
Perhaps Dan should have been offended that his newest player wasn't paying more attention to him, but he was doubtless bored with the schmoozing and more excited about whatever celebration he had planned for afterwards. It wasn't like anyone was saying anything exciting. He seemed a little uncomfortable in his suit but that wasn't exactly surprising either. Junior teams didn't tend to bother with game day suits and he was young enough he wouldn't have had many reasons to wear one.
'We're not passing on a kid this strong with those hands, not in Boston, Mr Rozanov. He's a very natural number one pick. Congratulations again, Ilya,' Dan said, meaning every word. There was no need to let Rozanov or his father know exactly how close the decision had been. He himself hadn't been completely sure of what was going to come out his mouth until he was already talking. There was just something about Rozanov. Something that suggested that not only was he the player the Raiders needed, but also that possibly the Raiders were exactly what he needed. Or perhaps Dan was getting fanciful in his old age.
That was when Rozanov senior opened his mouth and clarified a few things, saying, 'He is strong but he needs discipline. He can be, how you say, lazy.'
'I find that hard to believe, the way he plays!' Dan said, with a bit of a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Rozanov was standing right there. It didn't look like he was exactly tuned in on the conversation, but his complete lack of reaction suggested this sort of comment wasn't new. It looked expected. Worn in, like an old coat. Suddenly, Dan felt a bit sick. What sort of father made comments like that in front of the GM of his son's new team? Even if it was true, which Dan seriously doubted it was the sort of thing that could dog a player's first practices with a team. It was the sort of thing that, said to the wrong guy, could ruin him.
'I promise to work very hard for you,' Ilya broke in, sounding calm and reassuring, but there was something panicked in his eyes. Something that begged Dan to believe him.
'I have no doubt you will, son,' Dan replied, meaning every word and desperately hoping Rozanov could read that in his expression. He didn't dare say more. Rozanov senior was already barking something at the lad in Russian. Perhaps it wasn't as vitriolic as it sounded, but the closed off expression on Rozanov's face suggested it wasn't any kinder than anything else the man had said.
Yes, Dan mused as he did his best to steer the conversation back into safer waters, the Raiders were definitely the right place for Rozanov. He needed the kind of team who were close, who could become friends and maybe even family. The Raiders could give him that. Hollander would thrive anywhere, he was sure. He'd made the right decision, going with his gut as he had.