Original subtitles

Previously on Heated Rivalry...

Shane Hollander. I wanted to introduce myself.

OK.

The two most talked-about prospects in the world:

Canada's Shane Hollander

and Russia's Ilya Rozanov.

Always, uh, Hollander and Rozanov, right?

We will be seeing each other a lot?

Yeah, Boston and Montreal play against each other often.

What is your room number?

This is such a bad idea.

You're not gonna tell anyone,

'cause no one can know.

A lot of kids are gonna be looking up to you.

So, where's your boy Rozanov?

My what?

So, what's my name gonna be?

Jane.

How much pressure do you feel

from the fans, from the hockey world in general?

What was that?

Not everything is about you, Hollander!

What the fuck are you doing? We're in public.

No one is looking.

You don't know that!

Hollander.

See you next season!

♪ Nice try, get out the way ♪

♪ You're in our way, you bottom feeder ♪

♪ Too bad you couldn't stay ♪

♪ You're in our way, get lost forever ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ You think I'm pretty, you think I'm pretty cool ♪

♪ You wanna fuck me, I know, most people do ♪

- Let's go!

♪ Here, take this packet ♪

♪ You read it, it says, "Mangetout" ♪

♪ I gave you magic beans ♪

♪ I hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ Oh, man, I hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ I really hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ Oh, man, I hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ Good job, give you an A ♪

♪ A golden star, you think you're clever ♪

♪ Good God, she took a break ♪

♪ Made a mistake, when she made Trevor ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ Get lost forever ♪

♪ You think I'm pretty, you think I'm pretty cool ♪

♪ You wanna fuck me, I know. Most people do ♪

"Rozanov running back out on the ice for Boston..."

♪ Here, take this packet ♪

♪ You read it, it says, "Mangetout" ♪

♪ I gave you magic beans ♪

♪ I hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ I really hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ Oh, man, I hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ I really hope you're gonna get out soon ♪

♪ I know you're... you're up at night ♪

♪ Hunched over your phone like ♪

♪ A tree atop a hill ♪

♪ That's crooked from the wind that bites ♪

♪ You say you're lost at sea ♪

♪ Call the RNLI ♪

♪ You're washed up, irrelevant ♪

♪ And standing in my light ♪

♪ You're standing in my light ♪

♪ You're sta-- ♪

♪ You think I'm pretty, you think I'm pretty cruel ♪

♪ You say I scare you ♪

♪ I know, most people do ♪

♪ This is the real world, honey, bienvenue ♪

♪ In spite of everything ♪

♪ I guess there's just no getting through ♪

♪ Nice try, now get out the way ♪

♪ Good job, just take a fucking hint ♪

♪ I said I'll see ya, wouldn't wanna be ya ♪

♪ Wouldn't wanna be ya-ya-ya... ♪

♪ Nice try, get out the way ♪

♪ You're in our way, get lost forever! ♪

Hey,

if Rozanov fucks you tonight,

I'm gonna fuck him back.

I think you mean "fucks with," buddy.

I fucking mean what I mean.

They're burning a fake Rozanov outside right now.

The fuck does that mean?

They do it to you all the time in Boston. Wanna see?

Uh, no thanks.

Honestly, guys, it doesn't -- help me focus.

Yeah, Miity, go be weird somewhere else.

I'm not even that weird.

Whatever you need, Capitaine.

Hey, Hollander.

Can you talk to NBC and some radio outlets in, like, 10?

"Now, Mr. Hollander,

what does Montreal have to do to win tonight?"

Well, hockey is a complicated and nuanced game,

but it would be helpful

if we scored more fucking goals than the other team.

"And how about that other team!"

Ilya Rozanov has been on a tear lately.

He had a hat trick last week.

He's almost caught up to you in the scoring race.

Want to know what he had to say about that?

Nah, I'll listen if he actually catches up tonight.

Thanks, guys.

Wow, this Montreal girl works you up, brother.

Shut your idiot face, Marly.

You're straight up blushing, Roz.

Uh, no.

Never in life have I blushed.

Russians do not do this.

Good game.

Good game.

Good game.

You will murder me.

Maybe.

Get in!

Why the fuck did you think it was OK

to sext me before the game?

What the fuck?

You were hard, weren't you?

For how long?

The whole game?

You're such a fucking asshole.

Oh, you missed me. Didn't you?

I fucking didn't.

And I still beat your ass.

Oh, barely.

Wow, nice place!

Thanks.

I bought it a

couple years ago, but...

then this year, I bought another one.

Right next door.

I eventually might turn it into one place,

but for now I'm renting the next door one out.

Mr. Businessman.

Shut up.

Mr. Landlord.

Landlord?

You asked.

No, I didn't.

So where do you want me?

In the kitchen, on the floor?

Fuck you.

Did your mom buy all these pillows?

No.

I hired someone.

A designer.

You think there is enough?

You're such an asshole.

I think maybe you like it.

I can smell the cigarettes from here.

I had one.

You shouldn't be smoking.

And you shouldn't be talking.

Come here.

No, you come here.

No, you come here.

No, you come here.

You still want?

I still want.

Don't worry. It will fit.

Wow, wow.

You think this will be enough?

Fuck off.

Oh my God.

Is OK?

Hmm?

Holy shit, Rozy.

You still OK?

OK...

It's still OK?

Ah, Jesus Christ.

Are you...

Oh God!

Oh, God... !

Oh God, Hollander!

Now the bed's all dirty.

What?

Shut up.

I will shower now, OK?

Ah!

You killed me, Hollander.

I am dead.

That was so fucking hot.

Worth the wait?

I should go.

So, uh...

obviously, we won't see each other during the Olympics, right?

Oh, right.

Your family must be happy there in Russia.

Mmm.

Yes.

My parents are pretty psyched for me.

They're pissed they can't come,

but my mom's threatening to wake up at 4:00 a.m.

to watch every game.

I bet, uh, your parents will be there, right?

Mmn...

My father, yes.

Maybe my brother, but who knows?

Cool.

Anyways, I'm psyched.

I've been dreaming about it my whole life.

Dreaming of what?

Bronze medal?

You fucking wish, dude.

Hey, uh,

remember when I made you cum hands-free?

- Go fuck yourself, Rozanov.

- Mm.

Such a good trick...

Your cab is definitely here.

Bye.

"Welcome back to Man in the Crease,

your all-star hockey podcast.

For the first period,

we're four days into this year's Winter Games,

and there's already a contender for top story

here in Sochi, Russia."

"What an embarrassing end to a promising year

for the Russian men's hockey team.

A hard pill to swallow on home ice,

and especially for the young phenom Ilya Rozanov,

chosen as his country's captain."

Hollander!

What's up, motherfucker?

Boys.

Holy fuck! Can you believe Russia?

Be nice, Vaughnny.

They fucking lost to Latvia.

Did you see that game?

Yeah, it was a straight up shit-show.

A debacle.

Hey, what did Roz say about it?

Oh, I don't know.

Nothing to me, that's for sure.

I think he knows Canada has this in the bag.

Uh-uh.

It's USA this year, baby.

We're fucking comin' for ya!

OK.

Trust me.

You look great in silver, Vaughnny. Don't even stress.

- Oh, good one. - Oh!

Does your room have that smell?

Yes. Yes, it does.

Is it black mold?

'Cause that's what JJ thinks it is.

Then he's probably right.

- The good news is, we're not gonna be here long enough.

Alright, so tonight, we can do men's short-form figure skating?

My buddy Joe is in that program.

We trained together.

Would you guys, uh, be cool to do that?

I'd love to show up for him.

Hell yeah, man.

Show up for any dude who's that brave.

What do you mean?

Well,

I'm assuming your buddy might be gay... ?

I mean...

Fucking brave for a dude to show up to a place like this and be like,

"Hey, here's me."

Russia is not safe for folks like that.

Fucking balls of steel, man.

Yeah!

Whoo-hoo!

Amazing.

Wow!

Man, your buddy fucking killed it.

Fuck yeah, he did.

I'm just gonna find the bathroom.

[ TEXT MESSAGE in RUSSIAN: ] Where the fuck are you? Dad is so fucking mad at you!

Hey.

Not here.

No, I'm not...

I saw you up here. I wanted to see how you're doing.

Fine.

Go sit down.

We...

We are not anything.

Go away, Hollander.

Are you OK?

Please, go.

You didn't answer my text.

No, I did not answer your boring text.

Now will you go?

Fine.

Fuck.

[ in RUSSIAN ] You need a haircut.

Yes, Father.

The minister still wants to meet you tonight,

despite everything.

It will be my honour.

You should be honoured.

After yesterday.

You lose to...

To Latvia.

To Latvia.

And yet, he drinks.

How could you let that happen?

How are you not ashamed?

I'm ashamed, Father.

Not nearly enough.

They teach you no discipline in the American league.

Your play is sloppy.

The real shame is squandering the promise

you showed when you were young.

I am a better player now than I have ever been.

Our goalie is hurt. The team didn't click.

Click?

What is this American nonsense? What is clicking?

You are the captain. You make them click!

Always looking for someone else to blame.

Since you were a boy.

Who tied this for you?

Your mother?

She doesn't know how to do this properly.

No, Father.

Mom is dead.

You don't remember?

I meant your step-mother.

And where is Polina?

In Moscow?

Of course.

We should go.

To the gala.

So that I can meet the minister.

Yes.

Ready?

Let's go.

It always comes down to goaltending and Vadilevich, well...

He was not sharp, but...

And Kitchov stays home to rest for American prizes.

Too good for his country now.

Terrible, yes, terrible.

But there was no leadership. That is always the problem. Leadership.

Too much confidence?

Ilya?

Or too much pressure maybe?

Too much talking, Mr. Minister, probably.

But you love talking about hockey, my angel.

Only when we're winning, Daddy.

I'm taking Ilya with me to the bar. He clearly needs another drink.

Always leading him around.

Since they were children.

Thank you.

I'm an angel.

It would be great if you could remember that.

I want a drink.

But I have something more fun in mind.

Long time, Ilya.

Long time, Sasha.

I don't think you played that badly.

I'd say thank you, but I know you didn't watch a single fucking game.

For someone whose father has been a hockey coach your whole life,

you sure have managed to avoid it.

I pay attention sometimes.

When there's something worth paying attention to.

Anyway, ultimately, it doesn't matter for you.

It doesn't?

How do you figure that?

My father...

Your father is an asshole

who would have punished you either way.

You need to stop giving a fuck what he thinks.

And fuck these stupid games when you have a real shot at the Cup this year.

For real?

Yes, for real.

Hunter and the Admirals won't get past New Jersey.

But New Jersey won't get past Hollander and Montreal.

I think this year, you can take Montreal.

This year?

Yes.

This year,

because I think...

Miitka is hurt.

How do you know all this?

She's psychic.

And with a hurt goalie, you can only go so far.

As you and your team proved rather well here.

Touché.

And that's the East.

Then you can take anyone in the West.

Chicago... ain't

what they used to be.

It'll probably end up being San Francisco. They're good but they're too young.

That's how you end up winning the Cup

one year earlier than I bet my father you would.

Mmm.

No thanks. I wanna go to sleep, now.

I have to look perfect tomorrow.

You always look perfect.

True. But you boys also need to catch up.

See you in Boston, Ilya.

Bye-bye.

So?

How's Paris, Sasha?

Oh, "it's great, thanks."

I fucking love it there.

The clubs are insane.

The girls are hot.

And the boys.

Well, you've seen French boys,

right, Ilya?

Oh my God, nothing?

You don't do coke,

you don't make jokes,

you don't flirt back...

You used to be fun, Ilya.

Remember?

Here?

Really?

Danger used to get you going,

if memory serves.

We're not kids anymore, Sasha.

Yeah.

We're sure not.

Stop.

OK,

let's go somewhere.

No.

Fine,

I'm gonna find a party.

OK.

Bye, Ilya.

Nice to see you.

Hey!

Captain's here.

- Cap! Cap! Cap! Cap! Cap! Cap!

- Shhh!

Oh my God! I just put them down.

What--what am I supposed to do with this?

I don't know. My mom told me to get wine.

Oh my God.

You're so cute.

There's uh -- ginger ale in the fridge.

Okay, playoffs are over. You cannot keep the beard.

That's not a rule. You just made that up.

Ho-Hollander, is that a rule?

Unfortunately, it is.

Fuck you, Hollander!

He can barely even grow one.

No, no, fuck you, Swedish inbred.

- Fuck you, JJ. - Come on.

Just fucking do it.

Hey, man.

Stop swearing!

"... Boston... but the Raiders have a chance to end it all up..."

Boys, it's starting.

Turn it up.

"It's Game 6,

and the Cup is somewhere inside as we speak.

You know that Ilya Rozanov wants this bad."

"Rozanov and the Raiders have been on fire

since the Olympic break.

A heartbreaking case for the Russians

seems to have only intensified

the young Boston captain."

- Ooh.

- Ooh.

"He's on a tear,

scoring 10 goals over the past 6 playoff games."

OK, listen the fuck up!

Look,

I don't give a fuck how many goals I've scored.

I don't give a fuck how I played two fucking nights ago.

I don't need to think about that.

That was yesterday. That was before.

Now,

I only need one thing.

I.

Need.

To.

Win.

Here!

At home,

tonight.

As much fun as it would be to go to California

and humiliate them there,

but I want to hear our fans.

I want to hear them scream.

I want to fuck San Francisco.

I know you can do it.

I've seen you fucking do it.

I've seen every one of you do it.

So leave it all the fuck out there tonight.

Because this,

is our fucking night.

This is our fucking Cup.

Fucking fuck San Francisco!

Great fucking speech.

Go fuck yourself.

I can't believe that asshole's about to win the Cup.

Shane hates him the most.

What?

You hate Rozanov.

Of course.

But --

he's very good at hockey!

The best, probably.

Ehh, no, no.

You're the fucking best, Hollander.

Yeah.

Not that animale shit-show cock-sucking Russian.

"And that is that.

The Boston Raiders are your MLH champions."

- Oh.

- OK, guys. Let's start the grill.

"What a comeback story this year for Ilya Rozanov."

The captain did absolutely everything in these playoffs,

leading his team in blocked shots and shots against.

And obviously, it..."

Wow, nice watch!

They give this to you for free or what?

Where the fuck were you? We're on in five seconds.

Eh, twenty-five seconds.

What were you even doing?

And now, presenting the Lord Talon Award...

I was busy.

With who?

... Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander.

But the most important thing...

...is the friends we make along the way.

Hey,

before we give out next award,

can I get a selfie with you?

What?

Come on.

When will this ever happen again, buddy?

OK, fine, but hurry up.

Great!

Give me your number. I'll text them to you.

No chance.

And the Lord Talon Award for most sportsmanlike player goes to...

Well...

"Well" what?

What the fuck do you want, Rozanov?

You haven't answered a text from me in, like, 6 months.

You won't even acknowledge I exist

unless there's a fucking camera pointed at us,

and then it's for some fucking -- clown show.

So yeah, what the fuck do you actually want from me?

Well?

I want you to suck my dick.

Oh, fuck you. You are unbelievable.

You suck my dick.

Maybe ask nicely.

Hmm?

Please.

If you want me to get on my knees

on this filthy bathroom floor and suck your dick,

you will have to ask nicer than that.

Please get on your knees,

on this filthy bathroom floor,

and suck my dick.

Please.

No.

What?

No.

We will go back to our seats,

watch the rest of this boring show,

and then go to boring party after.

And then, when you have been waiting all night,

you'll come back to my hotel room,

and I will maybe...

maybe

do more than just suck your dick.

When did your English get so good?

I, uh, I read the New Yorker now.

Really?

No.

The New Yorker is boring.

My dad loves it.

Ah.

So being boring is....

is genetic.

Wow.

Genetic.

Then let's make a deal.

If you win MVP tonight,

I will blow you, fuck you,

whatever you want.

And if you win?

Good luck tonight.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Now take off your clothes.

You're such an asshole.

What?

Just a lot of windows.

Good.

Now get on the bed.

This is a good hotel.

Very nice vodka.

It's hard to find in America.

OK...

Touch yourself.

What?

Show off for me.

I want to watch you.

You what... ?

It's my special day, Hollander. I want to watch.

I've never...

No shit.

Fuck you.

Give me some vodka, at least.

Mmm, no, no, no.

Vodka is for after, as your reward.

Do you want to know how it feels?

How what feels?

Holding the Cup.

- You fucking asshole...

- Ah, I can barely describe it.

Oh my God, Hollander.

Ah!

Fuck.

Are you gonna fuck me?

We will see.

I need...

What?

You know.

Tell me.

You.

I need you.

Hmm.

So, Russia this year was

something else.

It's intense there.

So are you heading back soon?

Back?

To Russia,

for the summer?

Oh, yes.

Why?

What do you mean, why?

Do you have to?

There is no "have to." It's...

It's home.

Yeah,

but...

I don't know.

Is it... safe?

What do you mean, "safe"?

I don't know.

Do you -- do you even like it there?

What difference does it make?

A pretty big one, I think.

I need to sleep.

Oh.

Yeah, me too.

I should, uh...

So, uh, I'm off.

Goodbye, Hollander.

Fuck.