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    CBC News Archives | July 2005

    Mini-Doc: Meet Ottawa’s 14 year-old hockey phenom, Shane Hollander

    [Video - 3:26]

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    The video has been over for long enough that his screen has gone dark, but Ilya is still stuck staring at the device.

    He hasn’t let any tears spill over yet, but god, he’s going to cry.

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    11 Jul 2026

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    Hollander knew how to arch his back just so. He had dimples above his ass. Cliff began to wonder if Shane Hollander was a bit of a slut. Wasn’t that a fucking thought? 

     

    A clown car pileup of events leads Cliff Marlow to Shane Hollander's doorstep at 10pm on a Thursday in Montreal.

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    06 Jul 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya's on a hotel roof in the middle of the night. The draft is tomorrow, and he can't sleep.

    That's when Shane Hollander appears, but he's somehow thirty-five years old, and acting very friendly... and he's wearing glasses. This must be a dream — mustn't it?

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    28 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Shane.” Ilya takes Shane’s head in his hands, squeezes his cheeks so that Shane looks puffy, absurd. Beloved. “I am saying that to me, even though you are retired, you will always be No. 1 hockey player. Fuck Wayne Gretzky.”

    That’s what does it, as Ilya knew it would. Shane rears back, spluttering, outraged, trying not to laugh.

    “Oh, I have committed blasphemy now. They will take back my citizenship, big crime, very sad.”

    Shane smoothes his hands along Ilya’s calves, rests his fingertips on Ilya’s ankles. “Fuck Wayne Gretzky,” he says. He looks like he can’t believe what he’s saying. Ilya wonders, distantly, if he can get it on tape to play back to himself when things feel particularly bleak. “We can live in exile together. I don’t care. You’re my, my best, my second best hockey player forever too.”

    --

    Shane decides he has to retire. Ilya, of course, will go with him.

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    27 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane was fourteen the first time a number felt like safety.

    The nutritionist worked out of an office in Kanata, framed certificates, a calm voice, laminated charts with columns. She explained it simply: fuel in, output required, timing of each. She said it was a starting point.

    Shane took notes in the margins the way he took notes on everything—completely, past what was required. Yuna had found the nutritionist herself, sat beside him, and took notes too.

    Like mother, like son.

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    Or: Shane’s system works until it doesn’t; Ilya notices first.

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    25 Jun 2026