Page 44 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

of me with your questions?

Ziggy:Because as much as

annoying you is one

of my favorite activities,

I don't work for you,

just the network.

:What are your other

favorite activities with me?

:Describe them in detail.

Ziggy:Stop.

Some of us are

trying to work.

Ziggy:Don't even finish

whatever thought is

in your head, including,

"But you could work me."

:

Our exchanges always bring a smile to my face. It's our thing, the way we keep things light and fun despite how insane what we’re doing is. But beneath the playful jabs, a deeper bond is forming. I was so confident that when we started this arrangement, it would be easy and fun. There was no concern for anyone getting hurt, but I am not so sure anymore. Each day, it feels like I am getting closer and closer to the one who ends up getting hurt.

The next morning, I wake up to a flood of notifications on my phone. TheHit Behind the Netepisode we recorded last week has dropped, and the response is overwhelming. The podcast is something I look forward to outside of hockey. It's an outlet, a way to connect with fans and share a different side of myself. But it’s also incredibly taxing, especially during the season. I have so many things going on right now and am unwilling to give any of them up, but juggling everything is exhausting. And I am starting to feel the strain.

"Elliot, how are you handling the pressure of both the game and your growing media presence?" a reporter asked me yesterday.

I had laughed it off, saying something about taking it one step at a time, but the truth is, it is tough. I’m getting it from all sides, and there are moments when I wonder how much longer I can keep this up.

That evening, I pick up Ziggy from the airport. She is in town for our next game. On the way back into town, before I drop her off, I suggest a pit stop for dinner. I take her to a small, out-of-the-way place I like to go. Somewhere we can just be ourselves without worrying about prying eyes.

"You're quiet tonight," she says, looking at me over her glass of wine.

I shrug, trying to shake off the fatigue. "Just a lot on my mind. The pod, the games, the media. It's all a bit overwhelming."

She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "You're doing great, Elliot. Everyone can see it. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too."

Her words mean more to me than she knows. As the night goes on, we talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily between us. By the time we leave the restaurant, I feel lighter, more centered. A feeling that is more and more common when I am around her.

I step up to the car and open the door for her. I wait for her to get in before shutting it back behind her and walking around to the driver's seat. I sit down, deep in thought. With a particular thought front and center in mind, I go for it.

"What about just coming back to my apartment instead of checking into your hotel?" I ask, feeling very vulnerable.

"Um…" she says in contemplation, "I don't want work to find out and think that I'm not doing my job.”

Feeling deflated internally but keeping my cool, I respond "Gotcha."

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