04/18/2026
Doug is a 90s dad through and through. Equal parts love, volume, and “figure it out.”
At home, he runs things in that classic way. Fridge stocked, boots by the door, and a firm belief that if you’re upright, you’re going to school. He’s not big on heart-to-hearts, but he’s always there. His version of affection is a quick “atta boy” or a nod from across the room. And yes, every now and then, the famous “don’t make me grab the belt” line gets dropped like it’s just part of raising kids properly.
Doug also carries a bit of that small man energy. He’s not tall, but he makes up for it with volume, presence, and a refusal to be overlooked. Everything is dialed up just a notch. His voice, his reactions, his opinions. You can tell he’s spent a lifetime making sure people take him seriously, and now that he’s a dad, that intensity has a permanent home.
At the rink, that’s where it really comes out. Doug is pacing behind the glass like he’s coaching a national team. Coffee in one hand, pointing and yelling with the other. “SKATE!” “MOVE YOUR FEET!” followed by the occasional word that echoes just a little too clearly across the arena. He’s not trying to be embarrassing, he just genuinely believes if he cares enough and yells loud enough, something good will happen.
But behind all of it, Doug is solid. He’s the one flooding the backyard rink in the dark, fixing gear at the kitchen table, and showing up every single time no matter what. He might come in loud and a little intense, but his kids never have to wonder if he’s in their corner.
