Heated Rivalry (2025) s01e02 Episode Script

1
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 won't tell anyone?
No one can know.
A lot of kids
are gonna be looking up to you.
- Where's your boy Rozanov?
- My what?
So, what's my name gonna be?
- Jane.
(Phone whooshing)
How much pressure do you feel
from the fans, from
the hockey world in general?
- What was that?
- Not everything is about you!
What the fuck are you doing?
We're in public.
- No one is looking.
- You don't know that!
Hollander.
See you next season!
(mangetout by Wet Leg ♪)
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 ♪
(Phone dinging)
Get lost forever ♪
(Phone dinging)
Get lost forever ♪
(Phone whooshing)
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 ♪
(Phone vibrating)
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 ♪
(Phone vibrating)
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 ♪
(Phone chiming)
You think I'm pretty,
you think I'm pretty cool ♪
You wanna fuck me, I know ♪
(Announcer): Rozanov 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 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-- ♪
(Chuckling)
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,
ah-ah ♪
Nice try, get out the way ♪
You're in our way,
get lost forever ♪
(Skates swooshing,
crowd cheering)
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 in Boston.
Wanna see?
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?"
(Chuckling)
Well, hockey is a complicated
and nuanced game,
but it would be helpful
if we scored more fucking goals
than the other team.
(All laughing)
"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
said about it?
I'll listen if he
actually catches up. Thanks.
(Phone vibrating)
(Phone vibrating)
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.
(Laughing)
(Horn blaring,
crowd cheering)
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.
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.
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.
(Groaning)
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.
♪Where were you? ♪
Where were you? ♪
(Moaning)
Please don't go ♪
Please don't go ♪
(Grunting)
Oh my God.
Stay right here ♪
Is OK? Hmm?
(Grunting)
Don't ever leave ♪
(Both moaning)
Holy shit, Rozy.
You still OK?
It's you ♪
It's you ♪
OK
It's you ♪
(Shane moaning)
It's you ♪
It's still OK?
Ah, Jesus Christ.
(Grunting)
(Grunting, moaning)
(Moaning)
- Are you
- Oh God!
Oh God, Hollander!
(Moaning)
What the hell are you? ♪
(Moaning)
What the hell are you? ♪
Now the bed's all dirty.
What?
Shut up.
Please don't go ♪
I will shower now, OK?
Stay right here ♪
Stay right here ♪
(Water running)
Ah! You killed me, Hollander.
I am dead.
That was so fucking hot.
Worth the wait?
It's you ♪
It's you ♪
It's you ♪
It's you ♪
I should go.
It's you ♪
So, obviously,
we won't see each other
during the Olympics, right?
Right.
Your family must be happy
they're 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 your parents
will be there, right?
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 come hands-free?
Go fuck yourself, Rozanov.
Such a good trick.
Your cab is definitely here.
Bye.
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.
(Journalist speaking
foreign language)
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.
(Phone dinging)
(Chelsea mon amour
by Philippe B. ♪)
Hollander, what's up, motherfucker?
(Laughing)
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?
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 coming for you.
- OK, OK.
- Trust me.
You look great in silver.
- Oh, good one.
- Oh!
(Chuckling)
Does your room
have that smell?
Yes. Yes, it does.
Is it black mold?
'Cause that's what
JJ thinks it is.
He's probably right.
Good news is we're not
gonna be here long enough.
Tonight, we can do men's
short form figure skating?
My buddy Joe is in that
program. We trained together.
Would you guys
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.
♪
(Classical ♪)
(Crowd cheering)
Yeah!
Whoo-hoo!
Amazing.
Wow! Man, your buddy
fucking killed it.
Fuck yeah, he did.
I'm just gonna
find the bathroom.
(Phone vibrating)
Where the fuck are you?
Dad is so fucking mad at you!
(Classical on PA ♪)
(Skates whooshing)
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.
(Skates whooshing,
crowd applauding)
You need a haircut.
Yes, sir.
The minister still wants to
meet you tonight,
despite everything.
It will be my honour.
You should be honoured.
After yesterday.
You lose 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.
(Sighing)
No, Father.
Mom is dead.
You remember?
I meant your stepmother.
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.
I do?
Yes, you do.
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.
Now it's bedtime for me.
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.
(Door opening, closing)
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?
(Sasha chuckling)
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.
We're sure not.
Stop.
OK, let's go somewhere.
No.
(Sniffing)
Fine, I'm gonna find a party.
OK.
Bye, Ilya.
Nice to see you, Sasha.
(Sighing)
Hey!
Captain's here.
- (Men chanting): 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.
(Laughing)
You're so cute.
There's ginger ale
in the fridge.
Playoffs are over.
You can't keep the beard.
That's not a rule.
You made that up.
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.
Stop swearing!
(Announcer talking on TV)
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.
Him and the Raiders
have been on fire
since the Olympic break.
A heartbreak for the Russians
seems to have only intensified
the young Boston captain.
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!
(All cheering)
Great fucking speech.
Go fuck yourself.
(Crowd cheering)
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.
Uh, no. You're the
fucking best, Hollander.
Yeah.
Not that animal shit show
cock sucking Russian.
(Horn blaring)
And that is that.
The Boston Raiders are your
MLH champions.
- Oh.
- 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
(All cheering)
♪
(Man talking in distance,
indistinct)
(Audience laughing in distance)
Wow, nice watch! They give
this to you for free or what?
Where the fuck were you?
We're on in 5 seconds.
25 seconds.
What were you even doing?
(Woman): And now, presenting
the Lord Talon Award
I was busy.
With who?
Ilya Rozanov
and Shane Hollander.
(Audience cheering
and applauding)
But the most
important thing
is the friends
we make along the way.
(Audience laughing)
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.
(Camera clicking)
(Audience laughing)
Great! Give me your number.
I'll text them to you.
No chance.
(Audience laughing)
And the Lord Talon Award
for most sportsmanlike
player goes to
(Audience applauding)
(Footsteps approaching)
(Sighing)
(Chuckling)
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.
(Guests chatting, indistinct)
(Jazz playing on PA ♪)
(Device beeping)
Congratulations.
Thank you.
Now take off your clothes.
(Chuckling)
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.
(Laughing)
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?
(Sniffling)
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.
(Door closing)
(Elevator beeping)
Fuck.
Closed Captions: MELS