Allergic Interview (Hockey RPF, Brad Marchand)

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Hello again! This is a little ditty I've been working on because I love Brad Marchand's beautiful nose and I wanted to write about it. I thought about continuing a bit more, but in the end I ran out of inspiration and I think it comes to a natural close. I'm pretty happy with it!  I hope you enjoy!

Side note: I also started a tumblr called hockeynoses, if you want to check that out. It's new and I'm kind of figuring out what I want it to be right now, but it's a fun time.

~*~

The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the first period. They were up by one goal, and playing pretty well, although he needed to be careful about taking anymore stupid penalties. Brad Marchand headed back down the tunnel with the rest of his teammates. He knew he was scheduled for an interview during the break, and right on time, the Bruins’ PR assistant grabbed him.

“Hey Marchy, Claire with ESPN is ready for you in the hallway,” the assistant said, gesturing towards the opposite doors before rushing off.

“Alright, thanks.” Brad grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face as best he could. He wiped his nose as well; the combination of the cold ice and the exertion always got his nose running. Then he headed out into the hallway, still in his gear.

Claire was easy to spot. She was wearing a navy suit and holding a microphone, a camera guy standing at the ready behind her. He was fairly certain he’d interviewed with her before, but it was a while ago at this point.

“Hey, Brad,” she greeted him. “You ready?”

“Yep, fire away.” He came to stand next to her against the wall while the camera guy got them into frame.

“How do you think the game is going so far?” she asked, rapid-fire. She was holding the microphone for him and he could smell the perfume she had clearly applied heavily on her wrist.

“I think we’re doing pretty well. I mean, we’ve just gotta play our game out there and keep it simple. Keep cycling the puck and stay focused. We’ve got a good group of guys out there and I think we’re feeling good,” he said, giving his generic answer. He didn’t know why they had to do these interviews during the games. It wasn’t like he could tell them anything they didn’t already know. Nothing that couldn’t wait until the post-game presser.

Her perfume was too strong, and the longer he stood there the more it bothered him. He started to feel a slight itch in his nostrils. He quickly rubbed the tip of his aquiline nose with the back of his hand to try and stop it in its tracks. It didn’t help very much. His nose was starting to run again too, and he sniffed to try and keep it under control.

“You took that penalty for cross-checking in the first period, how does that effect your mindset for the rest of the game?” Again, the microphone was in his face, bringing with it another wave of perfume. He was finding it harder to focus on her questions, the itch making its way into his sinuses and causing his eyes to water.

“Yeah, you know, you wanna play hard and-” he paused to rub his nose again, swiping underneath with his fingers. “Sometimes the emotion…heh…gets the best- Ha’nxgt!” He stifled, fingers pinching his nostrils together. His nose was probably starting to get red now. Letting out a breath, he said, “’Scuse me. Sometimes the emotion gets the best of you.”

“Bless you! And what’s-” He cut her off with a muffled ha-ESSHHH! that he was able to aim into his elbow just in time. He straightened up, blinking and dazed.

“Sorry, I’b nod sure what’s setting be off.” He sniffed again. The persistent itch was only getting stronger. He knew if he didn’t escape soon he’d be useless in the second period. The guys already chirped him enough about his giant nose; he didn’t need to have a fit on the ice, or in a damn in-game interview on national television, for that matter.

“Oh! Um…” she seemed unsure whether or not she should continue, eyeing him with concern. “What’s…the best strategy for the next two periods?” She held the mic back towards him again.

“Uh, We….we jusdt have to trusdt the pro-aah- the process. Stay dis- ha-RRESSHHoo! Disciplined. They’re playing tough, they’re playing physical and- h-hold on-”  He pulled the front of his jersey up to cover his face and let loose with an embarrassingly loud “hhh’ETSCHH! Ha-ITTSHH! Huh-huh-RRESSHH-ughh. Oh by god.” He tried to wipe his nose as discreetly as possible as he set his jersey back into place. “Jesus, sorry.” He shook his head a bit, trying to finish this with as much dignity as he could. “They’re ndot giving up a ton. We just have to-AETCHhh” another aimed into his elbow. “We have to compete at a high level and get pucks to the- ha-EETSSH! To the ndet.”

“Wow, bless you again!” She managed through her shock. Taking pity on him, she dismissed him with an, “Alright, thanks Brad. I’ll let you go!”

“Thagks,” he said, finally turning away and making his escape. He headed down the hallway towards the restrooms, releasing a violent Ha-AEETCHHH! into his cupped hands. “Fugk me-eeeehh-Heh-TSSSHHoo!” He made it to the bathroom, cramming into a stall in his large gear, and unrolled a ton of toilet paper to use in lieu of tissues. Finally burying his nose into it and giving a loud, crackling blow. “Ugh, Jesus.” He just breathed for a moment, then gathered a fresh bunch of TP and blew his nose again, interrupted mid-blow by an iiiSSH-hah…heh-IISHH! into the abused bunch of tissue. He wiped his nose, now glowing red and impossible to miss. Why did she have to wear that perfume today? He had to be back on the ice in ten minutes!

After a few minutes of him trying to get his nose under control, he heard the bathroom door open. “Hey Marchy?” he heard the echoing voice. It’s Bergy, thank god. He didn’t want anyone else to see him like this.

“Yeah mand, I’b ind here,” he answered, voice sounding pathetic to his own ears.

“You good?” asked Patrice. “I heard the ESPN lady say you had to run off.”

“I’b good. It’s just by aaaETTCCHH! by allergies.” He blew his nose again. “I thingk it was her perfube.”

“Damn…you gonna be good to play?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a binute. I think it’s- ha-ISSHH! slowing down.”

“Okay, I’ll see you out there.” Brad heard the door close. He gave one last blow, hoping to clear everything out before heading to the sink to splash some water on his face. Once he was back out on the ice, there would be fucking cameras everywhere. His nose was definitely red, but his face didn’t look too flushed. Either way, he didn’t have much of a choice. It would be more noticeable if he didn’t go out with the others. After one last glance in the mirror, he steeled himself and headed out to join the team, hoping for the best.

[ItchyNostrils]

Love it, you did great! I had to google a picture of the guy to see him and his nose… and I must agree it’s a good one 😇

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On 10/24/2021 at 9:58 AM, ItchyNostrils said:

Love it, you did great! I had to google a picture of the guy to see him and his nose… and I must agree it’s a good one 😇

Thank you so much!  I'm glad you liked it. 😊  He's kind of a polarizing figure in the hockey world because he can be a bit of a douche on the ice (he's cleaned up his act recently!). But oh man, I saw his nose and immediately fell in love. 😍