Bro Joe Cannon's Spirituality of Hockey

The Spirituality of Hockey

Bro. Joe CSSp

Novice Hockey Chaplain

The Doctors of the Church teach us the necessity and grace of temperance in the healthy development of our spiritual life. To become truly one with Christ, to dig deep into that reality of our spiritual soul, we need to control and moderate the desires we have at the core of our being. Through such acts we come to more clearly see the beauty of the gift of life and the oneness we share with all of creation. Rarely in the modern world, the world of “Just do It,” do such profound sentiments fall on fertile ground. Usually the value of controlling and holding back our more base desires is seen as unneeded and unwanted. To quote South Park, “I can do what I want,” tends to be our motto.

I first must say, although I have become a die-hard Ghost fan, I know next to nothing about the sport of hockey. You can’t entirely blame me for this blatant oversight in my personal knowledge. Being from the West Coast, sunny San Diego, before last year the closest I ever came to hockey was the ice cubes in my Coke while I laid out at the beach. The first hockey game I ever saw was last year at Grundy, when some of the freshmen asked if I would come and watch the JV game. I was hesitant to say the least. In San Diego to claim one is a hockey fan is like claiming membership in Al-Qaida, to claim affinity to the antithesis of what we Californians see as our core values of being laid back and relaxed (not to mention warm). For most of my life I had always seen hockey as the red-neck sport of the East Coast and saw no need to embrace this part of North East culture.

When I finally gathered the courage to attend my first game, the first thing I was to behold opening the doors entering the rink at Grundy was Spina skating at full speed toward a player from the opposing team. And then, right in front of me, with full force, he slammed the dude against the glass like a rag doll. “What in hell’s name are you doing!” ran through my head. Spina recovered quickly, got the puck, left the other guy laid out on the ice, and skated away. “I’m gonna have a talk with that boy tomorrow. He has some anger issues he needs to work out.”

As I found my seat, tried to warm up, and the game continued I realized this radical, uncontrolled, flagrantly brutal action was just part of the game. It was exciting, fast, and fully physical. It was a blast! I have gone to every game I can make since and have enjoyed all the games, whether we win or lose. It is thrilling to bundle up and see such dedicated athletes compete full force in a game they love.

Last week I attended one of the varsity team’s away games in Jersey. I am not entirely sure what sparked the need for the team to have new throwback jerseys, but they were playing in all their glory on the ice sporting new shirts. What struck me most, emblazed on the front, was a fleur-de-lis, or French tri-fold. It is quite striking compared to the normal intertwined “H” and “G” of the team’s normal shirt. As my mind wandered I was reminded of Ghost’s restored chapel’s ceiling and the fleurs-de-lis and stars recently added there. That is when it hit me, the spirituality of hockey, the link between the seemingly rough and violent sport and the lessons of the Doctors of the Church.

Although I am still learning the sport, I do know the physicality of hockey and the drive it invokes in its advocates. There on the ice, wrapped in pads and helmets, swinging large sticks

and tossing around a hard plastic puck, are young men striving to win a very physical game. At times players cannot stop quick enough to keep from plowing into other players (as Spina had on my first day.) Nor is their aim for the puck always sure and they end up smacking an opponent. On occasion you can hear the banter from the ice through the cracks in the glass, enough to curl the hair of a sailor. But that is it! To take offense of every slight, real or supposed, and then to lose control only means you will lose the game. Often I have observed kids lose their temper and then you see the arm come up, and the fist go down on the fully padded head of their adversary. In all of this there is a consequence, the penalty box. Being there hurts you and it hurts the team. It is best to be temperate in your actions, control those emotions, keep a cool head on yourself. What a truly wonderful way to learn such a value, to learn how to embrace the virtue. No Church Doctor can be as clear to a young man as a hockey coach and referee can be. There are rewards to temperance and value in its practice and I respect those padded young men who are able to do it on the ice.

At any Catholic high school, or any family, often there is a tension between academics, athletics, and spirituality. We often become very myopic in whatever area we focus, and we lose sight of how valuable all areas of our life can be to our development. Hockey may not be a perfect sport, nor should it be the solitary focus of a person’s life, but it’s practice can deepen the values needed to be a complete spiritual human person. And that is what we are about here at Ghost, to form young men into complete human persons. Sometimes, just sometimes, the Doctors of the Church can come to life on the cold ice of a hockey rink.

Experience is the teacher of all things...

When I was a little kid, I had a very bad temper. The truth is, as I can recall today, I rarely, if ever, didn’t get what I wanted from my parents. In fact, I dare say that I was indeed “spoiled” as they occasionally asserted. Nevertheless, on that rare occurrence that my desires were not fulfilled and I doth protested too much, I would be ordered to my room. Once there, I would stomp my feet over and over in anger. Call it a need for attention or a flare for the dramatic; I wanted the world to know that I was unhappy. Even today, if you walked into the house where I grew up, and looked up to the ceiling in the kitchen, you will see cracks aplenty – evidence of my transgression.

At this point in the school year – and the season – there is a phenomenon that exists in sports that is unavoidable. As William Shakespeare wrote in Julius Caesar, “Cry Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war.” College acceptances, crazy weather, new classes, ending club seasons, date dances, proms and just about every other conceivable distraction comes flooding in like a hoard of invaders ready to sack our focus and attention. Add to this the distinctive never-ending culture of posturing in the ice hockey rink and what once seemed like a mighty train pushing forward can quickly lead to a sad tragedy of what ifs and what should have beens.

Certainly even I am not exempt. “O conspiracy, Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night.” As Brutus says in the play, criticism sometimes reveals itself by way of declared plots of conspiracy. I don’t even have a kid that plays hockey – or a kid at all – what possible motivation could I have for promoting a prejudice? It would be a lie for me to say this questioning of character has not prompted me to consider the tender of my retirement. It absolutely kills me when one of our players does something unique or is recognized for something they’ve done, and the response from the rink rapper is to search for a flaw and make sure that blemish is exclaimed louder than the achievement. The relentless need to destroy often takes on epic proportions and the destructive force becomes the great migration from rink to rink and team to team. Too many demand the drama and when none exists, it is created. As Julius Caesar said himself, “Men are quick to believe that which they wish to be true.” No matter how hard I try to be honest and positive, it is assumed that I have an ulterior motive to make money, cheat the rules or maneuver to earn praise I don’t deserve; and sure enough someone out there believes it’s their job to expose my conceited path. Could it actually be possible I have no self promoting reasons for being involved? (Sarcasm intended)

There is no question that Holy Ghost Prep is a tough place to go to school. Teachers are more demanding, good grades are harder to earn and good time management skills reap more reward than anything else. I am often told that kids don’t come to school here because they are afraid it’ll be too hard or that they can get much easier A’s by going someplace else. In some circles this level of difficulty might be heralded, but in the banter of the warm room, it seems rarely a compliment.

As Mark Twain (my favorite writer) said, “Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscovered - either by themselves or by others.” I believe it is my job to remind our players that taking the tougher path often reveals a much greater scene…that what you never thought you could do, suddenly becomes that thing that sets you apart from everyone else because you can. There is an unqualified confidence that comes from knowing that you earned something not because you just showed up, but because you made it happen. Today is the day to be the game changer – the role model – the leader others want to follow.


Friends, parents, players, lend me your ears! Let’s all call ourselves to action. Cast aside thoughts of negativity and release yourself from the burdens of the drama. Step aside and let the torrent of tall tales pass you by. Yes, people will trash you. Yes, people will trash Holy Ghost. Yes, people will claim to know great truths and yes, people will most certainly be blinded by promises from other places of great things that only they can provide. We can’t stop this…it is the circle of sport. What we can do is be willing to fill our neighbors with truth and stand as role models for what is good and positive. If they still decide to stab us...if they still embrace riot over conversation…if they still decide that characters are more important than people…then wish them well and surely move on. Our energy must be devoted to celebrating our accomplishments and cheering our successes.

Lastly, “it is not that I loved Caesar less, but I loved Rome more.” Ice hockey for me has almost nothing to do with the game. Don’t get me wrong, I like to win and I hate to lose. It takes an enormous amount of energy for me to hide that little boy stomping his feet when I don’t see what I want on the ice or when I am confronted with an injustice that impacts our players. At the same time, what never leaves my mind is my devotion to always doing what I believe is right for our boys…my boys. What is not public, does not translate into what is not happening. What we see is not always the whole picture. At the heart of believing in our spirit is the willingness to say “we are in this as one no matter where the road takes us…because no matter what the end looks like, it is what it is because we were willing to travel together.”

I Opine...December 2011

When I was an undergraduate in college, one of my required courses was called “Educational Reflection.” The purpose of the class (so I was told) was to help new teachers build confidence and share good practices with the other education majors in the school. The teacher had an exercise that took place in every class called shoulders. First, each member of the 15-person group was asked to dress in the color of how they felt that day. Second, we would sit in a circle and share our classroom experiences. If someone said something sad or challenging, a member of the group would exclaim “Shoulders!” and the group would reach out their arms and hold onto the shoulders of the person next to them in a show of support for your classmate. Even back then, I was somewhat of a budding heck-raiser, and I refused to participate. I would consistently wear black to class, and on the way-too-often shouting of “shoulders” I would fold my arms and glare at the people in the group. It got so bad, the shout of “shoulders” was often about my refusal to join in. Three weeks into the semester I was banished from the ring and sent to the corner. Before too long, the sphere looked more like a dying ameba, as my classmates found the solutions discussed on the outside more appealing than the nauseating fluff of the collapsing circle.

It is about this time every year, as friends and families gather for the holidays, that I am asked, “you are in charge of what!?!” It is no secret that I have the athletic ability of a broken down tractor – somehow interesting to look at, but you’d never want one. Eight years ago I didn’t know what a power play was; I had no clue what “club hockey” meant; and “Team Comcast” sounded the call center I contacted when my TV had a fuzzy picture. All these years later I have learned a lot, met a lot of really interesting and great people, and have found an appreciation for a sport that absolutely keeps my life interesting.

At the same time, sitting on the sidelines and watching has never been easy for me. While I can’t say I want to jump into the goal anytime soon, I find it difficult to stand quietly and ignore things that are truly insane. People now roll their eyes when I enter a meeting – Gump consistently reminds me to not go too far in my comments – and I am regularly criticized for my relentless support of our players no matter who I have to take-on to make a point.

In hockey world, swimming against the stream is as popular as a shark in a backyard swimming pool. The decision makers and power brokers are, and have been, the same people forever. Money, grand-standing and control rise as king in all decisions while conversation and understanding are pushed aside as unnecessary. In the face of rapidly dwindling numbers of players and costs that far outpace the ability of families to afford the game, the ice hockey community continues to beat the same drum over and over, ignoring the most basic reality surrounding them. Even USA Hockey’s ADM Model, the supposed framework of the future, does not once mention school, homework, tutoring, extra help, or college. For most kids between the ages of 5 and 18, six to seven hours every day are spent in a classroom (not to mention time spent studying, reading, or preparing)…how can this be ignored? When 95% (or more) of all youth hockey players will never play beyond youth or adult leagues, how can the plan not encourage (or at least make a passing mention) the importance of getting good grades and preparing for a life that doesn’t include ice skates?

Last year, NJ.com ran an article about the high school players who were forbidden to go to their championship game because of a club practice. I often wonder if the two coaches sat down to discuss what was right for the players. Did they talk about the positive impact the players have in the lives of the school community and hundred (or thousands) of other young people and fans? Did they talk about the profound impact of confidence in the lives of the players and how this can reap gigantic dividends for everyone? Did they think about how good publicity helps every hockey program? Did anyone ever say, kids are only kids once, let’s make sure they have every opportunity to make their growing up extraordinary? Probably not, and the usual terror of reprisals and manipulation through fear won out and the kids skipped the game. I can’t help but wonder if a parent would be OK if I told a student if he missed my class to go to a hockey tournament that he would get an “F” in the class for the year? My guess is that I would be decreed as just about every name in the book, people would be outraged and transfer papers would be submitted as soon as possible. As we are told, “that teacher just doesn’t understand.” And who really wins in all of this? No one would question the club coach’s desire to build for the playoffs, but if he is relying on a single practice in March to win the national championship then something has been going wrong over the previous nine months, right? This was about power, not what was right. And the need to feel powerful over kids is a recipe for disaster.

I already know the arguments, but unfortunately few acknowledge the facts. If you are a junior in high school and have not spoken to a college coach already, you are probably not playing NCAA Division 1 hockey. If your goal is Division III or ACHA, then your grades are going to play a huge role in where you get accepted before you can worry about making a team. For the most elite players, coaches found you at 15 years old and are tracking your progress right now. Coaches have ten or twenty guys that they are

targeting for the next three to five years and they know they might land one or two per year. Yes, politics and who you know win out over who is better. A last name can get you far and that is not fair, but it is reality. Parents will bury themselves in debt in the hopes that thousands of dollars in investment in a prep-school or a junior team translates into a roster-spot at Boston College or Notre Dame. And that random, my son got seen at a tournament moment, yes it is possible, but let’s be honest: On any given weekend, there are hundreds of “elite/junior/showcase” branded club games, with thousands of players, all over the world, with everyone proclaiming to be the league. Not every good player has the ability to travel all over, or the resources to afford professional trainers, and no coach in his right mind is going to turn down the chance to get a great player based on what jersey he is wearing when the college coach sees him play. If you have not done the work to make sure someone was there to notice you – emailing a coach, visiting a campus, sending film, etc. etc. then chances are you not being seen by anyone, no matter how long the list of scouts is on the showcase website. I cringe when I hear “my coach is gonna take care of me.” That’s misguided, or at the very least, unfortunate youthful naiveté. You must get yourself that look. Compliment and thank those that helped you get there, taught you the right skills or provided opportunities, but remember you are the player and you earned what you got based on your natural skill and the work you did off the ice to make the most of your chances. Turn away from banners with names or people that banter about who they know – be willing to do what it takes for people to get to know you, don’t blindly rely on what others can say about you.

A parent told me last year that words like mine will translate into the eventual death of the HGP Ice Hockey program. I would “be better off” he said, “if you just kept your mouth shut and played the game.” My response was “it is true that I might be better off, but that is not why I had decided to work in a school.” I decided a long time ago that my priority will be the kids that I am entrusted to look after and not my personal treasure or title.

If you have taken the time to read all of this and you think it is just a rant about club hockey or missing things at HGP for your club team then you have missed the whole point. The truth is that the opportunities in club hockey do absolutely provide the best chances to move to a higher level. Nevertheless, that game of shoulders I talked about was more than just a ridiculous class exercise. As the semester went on and the professor saw more and more people leave her circle, she finally explained: “This game was about how long you are willing to accept what is handed to you before you stand up and say, ‘this is wrong; this is crazy; this has nothing to do with me becoming the best I can be.’” In that classroom, my classmates and I had everything to lose when we decided to stand up to the teacher. Sometimes though, what might be lost holds no comparison to what must be gained. As adults, it is our job not to put kids in impossible situations, but instead give them the chance to embrace every opportunity, and within a positive framework, teach responsibility and good decision making. All too often we remember or talk about young people that lost opportunities – that got injured, got very sick and even some who have died. Doing what’s right is more than a patch on a jersey or a scribbled number on a sneaker – it’s about promoting real information and productive dialogue that ensures that missed chances are as common as me stepping on the ice.

There is no doubt that the inner-circle of hockey is a lot stronger than me. Still, I remain committed to my corner. I welcome those who disagree with me…I encourage you to shoot me down or hammer at my opinion. Tell me I am wrong. Show me where my thinking is flawed. Point me in the right direction. Don’t shout over the group, break free and talk…after all, that’s the whole point

Falling Fast

One of my favorite parts of the Fall semester is helping seniors write college essays.  If I could make a career of it, I would do it in a heartbeat.  A few days ago I sat down with one of our seniors and shot out a bunch of potential ideas for his essay.  They ranged from funny to serious, cheesy to intellectual and everything else in-between.  When we had finished with the first working draft and I proclaimed my essay writing omniscience, he turned to me and asked me a question: “why do you work at Ghost?”  I gave him the standard, “I love my job” answer, the bell rang and we both rushed off to the next thing.

The answer to the question is not as profound as maybe I would like it to be.  At the end of the day, when all the bells and whistles are silent and the effusive big words turn simple, I work at Holy Ghost Prep because I am happy when I am here and I hope that my joy translates itself into a positive impact on the students who come to school here.

To balance this philosophy within the hockey community has proven to be the greatest challenge I have faced as a school professional.  Attending a hockey meeting of any kind is like the funeral of a person no one liked.  People sit tired and burned out; clubs nervously teeter on the edge of folding; endless politicking results in good kids tossed aside for parents with the time or treasure to unfairly advance their son; relentless claims of impossible guarantees trump the reality of no actual success; once friendly faces are now embittered by the drive to win at all costs and innumerable relationships sit destroyed by much of the above.  As the private school guy, I am accused of cheating, stealing players and breaking the rules – incessantly grilled on everything from an unintentional smudge on a score sheet to the number of players we roster.  Any suggestion I make is taken as a means to be treated differently or to challenge the status quo and leaders that are often beholden to numerous masters with opposing agendas resist change at all costs.  More and more, parents are willing to accept any demand, no matter how insane or expensive, for their son to wear the right jersey.  Foolish rumors, lofty false promises and the uneducated advice dribbled out by erroneously extolled coaches amazes anyone who regularly works with students.  Challenging the norm is impossible as millions upon millions of pages of proven facts and studies about how children learn and grow are tossed aside or ridiculed for the empty substantiation of “in my experience.”  It boggles my mind the incredible depth of fear to say, “no, this is wrong.”   After all, I am reminded, tryouts come again next year, and maybe then I’ll make the right team.

Some people probably think that this is some poorly veiled attempt to trash one club team or another – that would be false.  The truth is that Comcast, the Junior Flyers, the Minutemen (and every other program) have a legitimate purpose to help kids play and compete at the highest level in their league – to move on and to improve.  There are some profoundly gifted coaches out there that have my respect and admiration.  They would likely agree that the joy is found after you survive all the madness.  This is a commendable mission and one I whole heartedly support if for no other reason than sports help kids to stay off the path of trouble.  My point is that as a community, the standards of right and wrong are often clouded by things that have nothing to do with doing what is right for kids.  One need go no further than read the USA Hockey ADM model.  Not a single mention of school or homework.  Nowhere is there value placed on building community, helping others or sharing success.  Instead, the model exclaims the best way to build great American hockey players.  Noble, but incomplete, selfish and valuable to only the tiniest number of players and, in my view, unacceptable.

There is no doubt that my dark and gloomy view is based on my own feigning ability to withstand the culture.  I have always been willing to take the high road and sacrifice almost everything if I believed we were doing the right thing for a player.  The politics and the rumors don’t get to me.  I am battered mostly by the fact that doing the right thing has lost credibility in ice hockey.  Instead, winning, making big bucks and lying to kids has slowly earned the winning hand.

You know, there is a person out there that trashes me to this day about not really understanding the best way to make an excellent hockey player.  The other day someone asked me, “doesn’t that make you mad?”  I responded, “I think it’s a compliment actually.  You see, in his limited sight, he sees a rink, a scoreboard and a score sheet.  From where I sit, I happy to only see his son.”

The Journey Starts Again

I am enormous fan of Sam Clemens (AKA Mark Twain). I think that he is the writer by which all other American writers are judged – a position he would most likely have rejected, yet one I believe many scholars would be in agreement with me.

Clemens was a writer of novels, but also of many editorials on events that happened in the world around him. In the spring of 1905, he wrote an editorial in the North American Review on the topic of leadership. In it, he wrote something very powerful, “Titles—[are an] artificiality—[they] are a part of clothing. They conceal the wearer's inferiority and make him seem great and a wonder, when at bottom there is nothing remarkable about him.”

Perhaps there is no greater part of the philosophy of Holy Ghost Prep than the simple idea of humility. The tradition of the Holy Ghost Fathers is to be willing to go into places where no one else will go – to go to people who everyone else rejects – and work to bring to these people the recognition of dignity and value. It reminds us that our striving for greatness is only as meaningful as the amount of effort we use to bring others with us – to share our success, our treasure and our respect.

In the coming days the hockey team will hold tryouts. It is inevitable that some people will be happy and some not so much. There is no doubt that much will be said – theories proclaimed – conspiracies declared – and emotions of all types displayed. At the end of the day, it is the responsibility of the coaching staff to make choices and with a limit of 20 players not everyone can be on the varsity team.

I urge and hope that all of us will participate with an open mind. I can assure you that there are no hidden agendas, no one has been promised a spot on either roster, no one has been guaranteed a starting position, there is no marquee player with special privileges or a person that secretly calls the shots behind the scenes. The coaches make the decisions, I work to make sure that the philosophy of the school is maintained in the decision process, and our athletic director Jim Stewart makes sure that there is a fair procedure that is followed.

I was recently asked “what do you do?” I responded, “I am the admissions director at a small private school outside of Northeast Philadelphia.” The questioner followed up, “I didn’t ask about you’re title, I asked you what you do…”

This moment was a small but good reminder to me of how incredibly lucky I am to be at Holy Ghost Prep. I have been a part of so many amazing moments at HGP, I can’t even begin to list them. Sometimes we get wrapped up in the belief that our title or tier offer us unearned respect or rights – we can let jealousy or gossip supplant the reality that other people work hard too, that putting someone down or “putting them in their place” does not make us stronger, that promoting fear is not the same as building confidence and that announcing our own glory is not as significant as advancing our shared triumphs.

Together I am hopeful that this season is one filled with success – success on countless levels – and that our time together is meaningful because we walk the road together and that our moments are special because we experience them as a community. If I could predict wins and losses, I’d be a man with a lot of money. What I can predict is that that coaches and I will commit our hearts and our minds to endless hours of doing what we believe is right and good for the team and for the players. We will always be honest and we will always recognize the unbelievable opportunity, responsibility and privilege we have to work with our players and families.

As always, I welcome your questions, concerns and thoughts.

The Big Envelope Cometh...

My very first year as the admissions director at Holy Ghost Prep, I decided that when we sent out acceptance letters we would mail them in big envelopes. I am not sure why this seemed so important to me at the time, but I am confident that it was born out of the belief that bigger was more dramatic, and it would be tough for me to deny that I am a fan of a production. Throughout the admissions season I would mention this from time to time to prospective families – usually as part of a light hearted conversation or a quick side joke to an audience.

The week before Christmas break that year, we raced to get decision letters out so that we could leave for the holidays without anyone waiting to hear from us about acceptance. We beat the clock by two days and everything was ideal. The day before we were to break, I was sitting in my office, waiting to leave for the faculty and staff Christmas party when a mom walked into my office. Before I had the chance to say "hello," she started yelling at me. Actually, "yelling" does not capture the true verbose and unrelenting nature of the attack. It might better be described as the wailing and gnashing howl of an infuriated banshee. Not a breath could be discerned as I watched this little grey envelope raise and lower with the vocal assault on me, the school, the students, the teachers and an often used reference that began with my mother. I was both slightly terrified and at the same time in awe that this enraged lunatic person in front of me could continue for such a long time in her extraordinary attack. I made countless verbal ducks and weaves to squeeze in a word, but it was hopeless until, well, she had to sneeze. I took the split second opportunity and said, "did you open the envelope?"

Inside, after her ravenous destruction of the evil shroud that surrounded her letter, she read, in quick order, the words, "accepted" and "scholarship." She stared at me for a moment, and walked out. In our race to beat the holiday deadline, I had forgotten to order the big envelopes, and so all the letters went out in small envelopes. Four years later, when I shook her son’s hand at graduation (who nothing of the event), she stood many yards back…you see, as she explained to her friends many times, "if HGP had just sent a large envelope, none of that would have happened. It was Ryan’s fault. He should be ashamed of what he
mostly stay quiet. This mom created a nightmare in her mind before she let the bright light of the good truth illuminate her path. As Mark Twain once said, "I have been through some terrible things in my life…some of which actually happened." It never bothered me that the mom blamed me or never apologized. We were trying to the right thing and I believe, sincerely, that we did. For the last twelve years in the admissions office and the last eight in hockey, I have been yelled at, called names, reminded how little I know and confidently dismissed as naïve, brainless or playing politics. I am pretty accustomed to the routine and shared success. There are going to be conflicts and disagreements. There are going to be scheduling issues and times when everyone’s expectations are not met. These are unavoidable elements of playing organized sports. Let’s all use our energy to cheer, to play harder, to be more focused, to applaud and to support.

As our games begin and rosters develop, it is essential that we all remain positively focused on our
We are all in this for the same reasons – and no one is getting rich or famous off our high school hockey games. Please know that my unwavering vocation is to support our players with every energy and skill that I possess. I know our coaches share this commitment. My sincere prayers remain, as always, for our shared achievement and success.

If you have a question, ask. If you see a conflict, confront it – the right way. Don’t wait until the opportunity to improve is so far passed that the one-time quick fix is now an unnecessary complex project. You may not like the answer or the solution, but at least you will be given the chance to ask or argue your case. made me do."

The Good Fight Goes On

A few weeks ago I read an article in the Bucks County Courier Times about Phillies utility man Mike Sweeney. After 16 seasons in major league baseball, he is finally in the post-season. The article, though, was not about baseball. Instead, it was about his faith, and it referenced a retreat he had taken as a senior in high school. The timing was somewhat ironic as I had just returned home from our own senior retreat the previous weekend.

I brought this article up while I was sitting at a meeting of many hockey folks – club, high school, etc – and as I expected it was immediately dismissed by some and embraced by few. Before I even had a chance to say anything more, the usual barrage began: “Did you know that the freshmen on your hockey team are already committed to prep schools for next year? Every weekend there are 25 scouts that watch [insert player here]. Every player on [insert team here] is getting recruited by Division One schools – you can’t compete with that. There will be 100 college and NHL scouts at our game this weekend – it’s the most important weekend of the year.” And just in case I have retained even the tiniest semblance of value to my existence, the inevitable killer blow is unleashed: “and of course no one actually cares about high school ice hockey.”

I learned long ago not to stand in the way of the posturing of ice hockey. I can make no grand oratory to convince the consumers of the potion that not every weekend tournament is the single most important experience in the world – yes, there will still be the tournament the next weekend – and the weekend after that... Countless Division 1 coaches can be seen or read saying, “if you’re that good, we’ll find you. Never forget that not every great player has the resources to travel around the country to be seen…and in a world with the internet, video and with a smartly developed plan, dreams are still attainable.”

My philosophy and the philosophy of our ice hockey program is pretty simple: there is a place in this world for a kid to be a kid. Doing well in school and being a young man of character are the priorities. Sharing your gifts and talents to build spirit among teammates and your classmates is as noble as any win, on any level. Being a role model and doing the right things can’t be counted on a scoreboard, but is remembered and lived forever by the people whose lives you changed with your example. We must do what we can to help sustain the course of great things that every player wants to achieve. Sacrifice, honesty, compromise and patience are required to make sure that those who’s path may deliver the sought-after dream of college hockey is properly supported. So too, we must show this same commitment and unyielding energy when our players need our empathy, our time, our expertise and our unquestioning ear. Humility and good character will serve you well beyond the days you can skate and a strong and tested mind will help shield you from an uncertain world that changes every minute. To paraphrase Albert Einstein, “preparing for what will come in the future should not prevent you from making history today.”

My conviction is strong because of the fine men and women – high school, club, officials and friends in ice hockey – I have encountered over the last seven years that share the same principle that it is the person we are charged with supporting that supremely matters, not what he can do with a puck. My sincerest prayers remain wholeheartedly with them as we start full swing into another season. I hope that each of us in the Holy Ghost Prep community can share with me this faith strong commitment to support what is right and the folks that work so hard to fight the good fight.

To end, I would like to make mention of our seniors as we start this new year. I am extraordinarily fortunate to have been a part of the lives of so many HGP students over the years. I marvel every second at their achievements, successes and ability to overcome some of the most demanding challenges. This year’s seniors have faithfully and nobly carried the torch of our program for four years. They are the first group, for all four years, to fully bear the weight of our success this decade. They have done this with great spirit and loyalty. I do not know where this season will end, but if the judgment is based on the content of the hearts of our seniors, we are first no matter the contest.