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gvitaly · 07-20-2025, 12:38 PM

Criminal Stockton

You started your career in Stockton?
Yes.
It's in the USA. You're currently playing in Canada. I’d really like to talk to you about how the team moved. And especially, to discuss the situation in the wonderful city where you played—Stockton. Minsk, Belarus—our clean, safe, bright, beloved city. Then you fly to Stockton.
I’ll tell you—even Mogilev is a safe city compared to it.
So, what was Stockton like?
Well, man, Stockton... It’s hard to explain in just a couple of sentences. On our team, they told us about a couple of unwritten city-wide rule that after sunset, during nighttime hours:
1. You shouldn't walk anywhere on foot.
2. At stop signs or red lights—if you saw a suspicious person or car, it was acceptable to run the red light without stopping. Like, if someone shady was walking toward your car or a sketchy car was swerving near you, you could just speed to the highway. Once you’re on the freeway, it’s peaceful—there are patrols monitoring speed and law enforcement. So, nothing happens there.

You know how American cities are laid out—they’re all built around the big highways. The freeway runs from Los Angeles, through Sacramento, and up north all the way to Canada. So you hit the freeway and you’re good. But in the city itself, yeah—it was dangerous.
Where did you and your wife live?
We lived in a gated area. Our apartment complex was called “The Pavilions” in Russian. These were two-story buildings with big apartments on both floors. We lived on the second floor—you’d walk up a stairway and that’s our place.

We joked that our front door was like the doors we install in bathrooms in Belarus. I’m serious—you could kick it down with half a tap. We honestly didn’t know what we’d do if someone broke in.
So, you were scared?
I tried not to think about it, but yeah, it was unsettling. Some guys lived in elite neighborhoods—those had barbed wire on the fences and armed guards around the perimeter. It was really secure. No strangers could just enter.

We had one guard and a gate that would open or close. I never saw his face, and I doubt he was some massive bodybuilder, but thank God he was there. If someone suspicious came in, he’d probably call someone right away.

Still, even with that guard, something happened. Two Slovaks were living there—one later went to the NHL, the other stayed with us in the pavilions[I assume that's Ruzicka and Pospisil]. His apartment was deeper into the complex; mine was closer to the entrance gate.

In the mornings, I’d drive to pick him up, and one day he came out and said: “Drive straight and turn right.”

I drove, turned—and behind the wall, where the railroad tracks were, I saw two cars up on cinder blocks, windows smashed on the driver’s side. They had been robbed—wheels stolen, cars left on bricks. You know like they could do in some remote villages in Russia back in the day.
Wow.
Yeah. Another time, I came back from a game—we had, and still have, a dog I had to walk, while my wife was preparing food. So I took the dog out, and I heard gunshots. It started with a couple of shots but quickly turned into bursts of automatic fire. I turned around immediately to head back home. I didn’t make it far before I heard sirens—lots of them. Police, ambulances, the whole works.

Next morning, the Slovakian guy and I went to see what had happened. It turned out that just 300 meters from our apartments, a 16-year-old high school football team captain was shot dead. Insane.

After that, we understood it was serious. There had even been an incident at one of our games—a gang showed up, and then another rival gang came. Some sort of standoff. They didn’t want to let us leave the arena. When they finally did, we were escorted by five or six police officers with their weapons at the ready.

That was in March, and two weeks later they officially announced that the team would be moving to Calgary—to be based in the same city as the main team.
So your families asked management to move the team?
Exactly. My wife said that in the wives’ group chat, the veterans’ wives asked around. Then the captain’s wife and assistant captains’ wives—more experienced women—talked to their husbands, and the players went to the front office to formally request a move. They said, “It’s impossible to play here anymore.”
It was that unsafe. They would’ve accepted any city in the U.S.—just not Stockton. After Belarus, that must have been unimaginable.
Totally. After I heard about the kid being shot—my wife said after sunset I wasn't even allowed to walk the dog anymore, even in our gated community's grounds.
So, what was your attitude about it?
I have a bit of a different outlook on life. My wife sometimes doesn’t get it.
As in “A brick could fall on your head too.”?
Yes. But yeah, we lived behind a fence. Still—stray bullets could hit you.

We saw cars with bullet holes drive around town. When we first arrived, they housed us in a hotel right next to the arena, which was near the river. Across the river was a red zone, we were strictly forbidden from going there.
So it's actually outlined on a map?
They gave us printed maps that marked this no-go area.
What were those maps a part of?
Like a camp brochure—with pictures of the players and contact info. And a city map with red zones. You weren’t even allowed to drive through that area— not even pass through it.
That’s insane.
Ask anyone—Vlad, Kolichonoko, Klim that was in Abbotsford. One time I tried to talk to Klim after a game, the team’s equipment manager came running:
“Ilya, get to the locker room immediately!”

Because one of those gang confrontations was happening again. Klim was taken straight to the bus. The bus drove into the arena itself, which they don't usually do. It was escorted by three police cars to the highway. They loaded up the players and left very quickly.
You didn’t get to talk to him because of a gang fight outside?
Yeah. I had to send my wife home without me. We had only one car back then. She was sitting at there at the parking lot waiting for me. She called me like: “What’s going on? There are cops everywhere, are you alive?”

I told her: “Baby, just get out of there. Follow the team bus out with the police escort”. She left safely. My teammates gave me a ride home after.

07-20-2025, 12:38 PM	#14
gvitaly Franchise Player Join Date: Jul 2010 Exp:	Criminal Stockton You started your career in Stockton? Yes. It's in the USA. You're currently playing in Canada. I’d really like to talk to you about how the team moved. And especially, to discuss the situation in the wonderful city where you played—Stockton. Minsk, Belarus—our clean, safe, bright, beloved city. Then you fly to Stockton. I’ll tell you—even Mogilev is a safe city compared to it. So, what was Stockton like? Well, man, Stockton... It’s hard to explain in just a couple of sentences. On our team, they told us about a couple of unwritten city-wide rule that after sunset, during nighttime hours: 1. You shouldn't walk anywhere on foot. 2. At stop signs or red lights—if you saw a suspicious person or car, it was acceptable to run the red light without stopping. Like, if someone shady was walking toward your car or a sketchy car was swerving near you, you could just speed to the highway. Once you’re on the freeway, it’s peaceful—there are patrols monitoring speed and law enforcement. So, nothing happens there. You know how American cities are laid out—they’re all built around the big highways. The freeway runs from Los Angeles, through Sacramento, and up north all the way to Canada. So you hit the freeway and you’re good. But in the city itself, yeah—it was dangerous. Where did you and your wife live? We lived in a gated area. Our apartment complex was called “The Pavilions” in Russian. These were two-story buildings with big apartments on both floors. We lived on the second floor—you’d walk up a stairway and that’s our place. We joked that our front door was like the doors we install in bathrooms in Belarus. I’m serious—you could kick it down with half a tap. We honestly didn’t know what we’d do if someone broke in. So, you were scared? I tried not to think about it, but yeah, it was unsettling. Some guys lived in elite neighborhoods—those had barbed wire on the fences and armed guards around the perimeter. It was really secure. No strangers could just enter. We had one guard and a gate that would open or close. I never saw his face, and I doubt he was some massive bodybuilder, but thank God he was there. If someone suspicious came in, he’d probably call someone right away. Still, even with that guard, something happened. Two Slovaks were living there—one later went to the NHL, the other stayed with us in the pavilions[I assume that's Ruzicka and Pospisil]. His apartment was deeper into the complex; mine was closer to the entrance gate. In the mornings, I’d drive to pick him up, and one day he came out and said: “Drive straight and turn right.” I drove, turned—and behind the wall, where the railroad tracks were, I saw two cars up on cinder blocks, windows smashed on the driver’s side. They had been robbed—wheels stolen, cars left on bricks. You know like they could do in some remote villages in Russia back in the day. Wow. Yeah. Another time, I came back from a game—we had, and still have, a dog I had to walk, while my wife was preparing food. So I took the dog out, and I heard gunshots. It started with a couple of shots but quickly turned into bursts of automatic fire. I turned around immediately to head back home. I didn’t make it far before I heard sirens—lots of them. Police, ambulances, the whole works. Next morning, the Slovakian guy and I went to see what had happened. It turned out that just 300 meters from our apartments, a 16-year-old high school football team captain was shot dead. Insane. After that, we understood it was serious. There had even been an incident at one of our games—a gang showed up, and then another rival gang came. Some sort of standoff. They didn’t want to let us leave the arena. When they finally did, we were escorted by five or six police officers with their weapons at the ready. That was in March, and two weeks later they officially announced that the team would be moving to Calgary—to be based in the same city as the main team. So your families asked management to move the team? Exactly. My wife said that in the wives’ group chat, the veterans’ wives asked around. Then the captain’s wife and assistant captains’ wives—more experienced women—talked to their husbands, and the players went to the front office to formally request a move. They said, “It’s impossible to play here anymore.” It was that unsafe. They would’ve accepted any city in the U.S.—just not Stockton. After Belarus, that must have been unimaginable. Totally. After I heard about the kid being shot—my wife said after sunset I wasn't even allowed to walk the dog anymore, even in our gated community's grounds. So, what was your attitude about it? I have a bit of a different outlook on life. My wife sometimes doesn’t get it. As in “A brick could fall on your head too.”? Yes. But yeah, we lived behind a fence. Still—stray bullets could hit you. We saw cars with bullet holes drive around town. When we first arrived, they housed us in a hotel right next to the arena, which was near the river. Across the river was a red zone, we were strictly forbidden from going there. So it's actually outlined on a map? They gave us printed maps that marked this no-go area. What were those maps a part of? Like a camp brochure—with pictures of the players and contact info. And a city map with red zones. You weren’t even allowed to drive through that area— not even pass through it. That’s insane. Ask anyone—Vlad, Kolichonoko, Klim that was in Abbotsford. One time I tried to talk to Klim after a game, the team’s equipment manager came running: “Ilya, get to the locker room immediately!” Because one of those gang confrontations was happening again. Klim was taken straight to the bus. The bus drove into the arena itself, which they don't usually do. It was escorted by three police cars to the highway. They loaded up the players and left very quickly. You didn’t get to talk to him because of a gang fight outside? Yeah. I had to send my wife home without me. We had only one car back then. She was sitting at there at the parking lot waiting for me. She called me like: “What’s going on? There are cops everywhere, are you alive?” I told her: “Baby, just get out of there. Follow the team bus out with the police escort”. She left safely. My teammates gave me a ride home after.