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
