The only place he doesn’t feel alone is the moment after a goal at home. The rest of the time, all Zhenya can seem to feel is the ways he’s disconnected from everything else, English a yammering cadence he fishes scraps of meaning from like an exhausted prospector. I’m smart in Russian, he wants to tell them. I’m funny, in Russian. I’m all kinds of things.

The hydrophones have been picking up nonsense for the past three days and Zhenya has had it up to here, honestly.

“So I’ve noticed something,” Sid says, and Zhenya makes a face. Sid is using his Serious Captain Voice and he is using Personal Discussion Introductory Phrase No. 3. Fuck’s sake.

They make a point of it, always, telling Zhenya how beautiful Sidney is.