"Penis doodles are encouraged on all homework. Awful innuendos are allowed. Extra credit if you can get me to laugh at them. And don't hit on me unless you're legal, 'cause I got crazy shit for that last time." (or, what Patrick Kane would be like as a sex ed instructor)

Jonathan Toews is a certified, bonafide, pedigreed geek. Luckily he's their geek, so it works out okay.

“What kind of pleasure do you want to offer the Lover?” Sid asks. People usually want sex, of course, but not always – Sid’s had supplicants who just wanted to make out, or cuddle, or flirt… and one memorable supplicant who wanted to give him a massage, which was awesome. She confessed to Sid afterward that she’d gone in intending to have sex, but “when I saw those muscles, I was like, damn, I need to get my hands all over that!”

They're three of the biggest names in the sport and, to be quite honest, they're sick of the things the league tacitly condones. There are issues in the league that no one will talk about but maybe--just maybe--by taking a stand they can start to change things.

Nicklas drapes his towel over his shoulder. “Looking for a ride?” “It’s nap time,” Alex says with a shrug. “So we should nap.”

Only three guys on the Panthers have wings, which is low for a modern-day team.

This isn’t how the season was supposed to go.

She smiles at him, and Pierre-Luc smiles back. She doesn't know it, but he's got a big, ugly bruise on his hip from that incident yesterday. A small monster just a block away, small enough that it shouldn't have been too much trouble dealing with it on his own. Really, he has no excuse for the broken window. This isn't junior training anymore and he should be used to working solo by now. It's not what he prefers, but it's not his place to question how Torts is running his team, only to thank him for his trust in PL's skills and do his best not to prove him wrong.