Who: Hockey, Max Langlois (NPC), several Rangers/NHL bigwigs, the sports media, and Paparazzi. What: Press conference. Where: Madison Square Garden. When: Early Wednesday evening. Warnings: Possible language.
It was a relaxed atmosphere, in one of the Garden press receiving rooms. A relaxed atmosphere, to be certain, but every little detail had been carefully manipulated. The members of the press would walk in to see Stan reclining back a bit in the chair in the middle of the long table. On his right was Max, sitting up straight to loom up in the chair, wearing a tailored suit that drew attention to his broad shoulders and made everyone remember why they'd called him L'Élan - The Moose - when the agent had played for the Nordiques; on Max's other side was Stan's publicist, polished, almost sweet-looking woman who was really anything but; her petite size served to make Max look even more imposing. On Stan's left was Glen Sather, the general manager of the Rangers, smiling slightly for a change and conversing quietly with the representative of the Commissioner's office who sat on his other side. Stan was wearing a Rangers t-shirt underneath a Reebok windbreaker, his curly hair sticking out from beneath the brim of a Reebok ball cap as he drank briefly from a bottle of Gatorade before placing the bottle back on the table, label toward the cameras. The message was clear: the Rangers and the NHL were behind him and Stan hadn't lost either of his multi-million dollar endorsement deals.
Stan and Max conversed quietly in rapid French as the reporters filed in and took their seats, Stan only pausing once in their quick fire conversation as he felt the presence of an immortal in his temple, his Garden. Fucking Paparazzi. He merely gave her a bland little smile and mentally told the Garden to calm down. It wouldn't help matters if his somewhat sentient temple decided to send an electrical current along the floor and zap Paparazzi's toes. Later, my old friend, maybe later. Hockey could feel the telltale sound of the Garden grumbling in the back of his head but he ignored it as the reporters quieted and the press conference began. It wasn't too hard for Hockey to navigate through the thicket of questions; he and Max had gone over practically every possible question when Hockey and Figure Skating had arrived back at his NYC apartment.
"Stan, what do you have to say to the fans you've disappointed?"
"Again, I apologize if my overly trusting nature has caused my fans to doubt me. I know I've been in the League for five years now and, while I don't have the same sort of fame as Sid and Alex, I'm still getting used to what I do have. And I need to learn how to read people better, to be able to tell when they just want to be around me because I'm a household name. The young woman in the photographs, I thought she was my friend. It turned out that she was just using me. It's disheartening, you know? To have to start fostering a distrustful nature to play the sport you love, but if that's what I have to do to make sure something like this never happens again, well, I'll do it. I'll change, change to make sure I never give my fans a reason to doubt my character. That's the last thing I wanted to do."
"It's common knowledge that you tend to play the field when it comes to dating. And now it's become clear that you date more than one woman at once. Is that really an image the Rangers, the NHL, and your corporate partners want attached to them?"
"I can't speak for my coach, Mr. Bettman, or my contacts with Reebok and Gatorade. But I can speak about the state of the hockey world right now, in comparison to other sports. Not to denigrate, say, football or golf, but it's true that hockey suffers a decidedly lessened amount of scandals. I'm not quite sure why that is; perhaps we focus more on what's most important - the sport itself - instead of the personal lives of the players. But that phenomenon is what makes a photo leak like this such big news. We're seen on the ice, for what we can do in order to help our teams move forward and improve, and that lends to the perception that we don't really have personal lives, that when we step off the ice, all we do is practice and work to improve. But that's faulty; we're men and men like to be in the company of women, whether they're in love and married like some of my teammates or whether they're like me, trying to find that one person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Going back to what I talked about earlier, finding that person is hard when you have to sort through all of the people who only want to be close to you because you're famous. My mistake was being too trusting during that search and I know that I can redeem myself in the eyes of Rangers management, in the eyes of the NHL, in the eyes of my corporate partners, in the eyes of my fans."
Here, Glen Sather broke in. "Stan's always been a role model, for his fans, for the young men and women he coaches and even for his teammates. Yes, it's true that he faltered recently in that role, but we have the utmost confidence in him. He's a good man, an excellent player, and he should be judged on those merits." Beside Sather, the representative from the Commissioner's office was nodding; the reporters got the message.
"And the young woman in the photographs, the one who leaked these on the internet. You've said that you thought she was your friend but it turned out she was just using you. Are you going to tell us who she is?"
Here, Max sat up just a tad straighter beside Hockey, who reached out with his mind to mentally ease some of the tension he could feel radiating off his agent. Stan replied. "I don't think I should. I mean, I don't understand why she did what she did, but she doesn't deserve to have her name dragged through the mud, to be known as Stanley Wayne's vindictive ex-girlfriend. What she did hurt me, yes, but I can't justify hurting her in return, I can't justify wanting to get revenge for how she betrayed my friendship and trust."
"That's remarkably moral of you, Stan, it shows a high level of personal integrity."
The only way Stan could have had more of an aww, shucks ma'am air to him as he flushed slightly, shrugged sheepishly, was if he had actually said the words. "She hurt me, but she doesn't deserved to be hurt in return. I cared about her, and about Stephanie. I care about the women I date, whether or not they're using me for my fame. I just have to be a better judge of character."
He was laying it on thick but his sheepish smiles and sad look in his eyes had the female reporters melting, wanting to help him get over being hurt, and his words about men wanting to be in the company of women resonated with the male reporters. The atmosphere was still relaxed, the reporters were mostly convinced that Stan was in the right and had just been taken advantage of by someone who only wanted him for his fame. Stan answered a few more questions; what did he think of Team USA's performance at Worlds - "A pity we didn't do better and a pity my old knee injury flared up again and kept me from participating." - who was he cheering for in the finals - "Chicago, of course, I'll never be a Flyer fan." - and a few about what his plans for the summer were that Stan took care of with mentions of golf, training, and coaching.
Finally, most of the questions seemed to have dried up, Max shifting forward toward his microphone to ask if anyone had any further questions in a voice accented only accented slightly by his French heritage. Stan looked at Paparazzi in the front row, but it was the God of Hockey who raised his eyebrow just slightly. This was his temple, a beacon of his power, a semi-sentient building who could decide not to let her out alive if Hockey pressed it to act against Paparazzi. If Paparazzi wanted to start shit, so be it, but Hockey knew he would finish it.