The Goalie Guru blog, and all its linked materials, is offered as a one-stop resource to assist ice hockey goaltenders, their coaches and parents (realizing that the latter two are often one and the same) in gaining a better understanding of this truly unique position. Comments, questions, and suggestions welcomed! Reach me at 978-609-7224, or

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Requiem for an athlete

True, in a rare moment of repose.
Hi gang,

It's been almost a month since the girls and I had to say goodbye to a very, very special member of our family. Thanks to my editor at the New England Hockey Journal, I was able to pay tribute to our wonderful Labrador retriever, True. 

Anyone who has ever lost a pet, especially a pet dog, can probably appreciate the following. There is a rare and remarkable bond that forms between a pet and her owners. And True was truly remarkable. Let me know what you think ...


Requiem for an athlete

Your indulgence, please. Writing has always been cathartic, and I'm hoping my craft can work its magic this evening.

It is approaching midnight, on the eve of July 4. I'm home, but can't sleep. The long holiday weekend was a tough one. Earlier today, my wife, daughters, and I had to put down our beloved yellow Labrador retriever, Trudell.

Longtime readers of this column might remember True (the nickname I always felt most comfortable with). I wrote about her a few years back, as an example of the perfect goaltender – remarkably quick, agile, and focused.

True celebrated her 10th birthday earlier this year. I realize that's 70 in "dog years," but this dog was still an absolute stud. Her narrow head and lean build was a testament to her lineage as a full-on American field Labrador retriever. True was bred to retrieve waterfowl, even in the most inhospitable environments.

Her father, Zeb, was my father in-law's prized retriever, and he enjoyed needling me that True, as a family pet, was "a waste of a great hunting dog." I always laughed, knowing he was right. In her prime, True was 65 pounds of quick-twitch muscle, sinew, and gray matter hard-wired to fetch.

But even in her "golden years," she continued to personify the qualities that make Labs such phenomenal pets. Good-natured, kind, exuberant. But what really set True apart was her boundless capacity for fun.

When True saw me grab my lacrosse stick and tennis ball, her response was unadulterated joy. Her ears picked up, her tail wagged uncontrollably, her entire body would shake with anticipation. At that moment, she was absolutely locked onto the ball, a pure athlete waiting to pounce. She was the perfect goaltender – coiled, confident, and unfazed by any outside emotions or distractions.

But True, as I would learn, was more than a natural goaltender. She was the ideal teammate. Though she wasn't a "cuddly" pet, she lived and breathed whatever mood filled our house. If we were happy and celebrating, True had to be in the middle of it. Unsuspecting visitors would get smothered with slobbering kisses. If we were upset, True would mope. She embodied our family atmosphere, yet rarely failed to lift our spirits.

Late March, True started showing signs that something was amiss. Her exceptional endurance began to ebb. She was hesitant to jump into the back of the family wagon after a run at the beach, and even struggled to hop onto our bed (her favorite napping spot). Like her father, True developed laryngeal paralysis, making breathing difficult.

Starting in May, True's condition deteriorated rapidly. Her decline happened so fast, we couldn't get ahead of it. Our local vet was visibly stunned when he saw her, just six short weeks after her annual physical. She was stumbling badly, her hindquarters barely able to support her weight.

We had X-rays taken, and were told that True, orthopedically speaking, was flawless. After consulting with four different veterinarians, the consensus appeared to be that True was suffering from some kind of neurological problem. It could have been the result of a tumor on her spine, or brain, or caused by a stroke. We tried steroid supplements, with minimal benefit.

The only option at that point was more expensive testing, which would only tell us what type of more expensive surgery needed to be done. For an aging pet who already was suffering from laryngeal paralysis, it simply didn't make sense. Our vets concurred. Lauri and I resigned ourselves to helping make True as comfortable as possible for however long she was with us.

Over the last two weeks of June, it was clear True's time was coming. She held on for a final visit from my mother in-law, the woman who weaned her as a puppy. On Sunday, Lauri made the courageous decision that True shouldn't have to deal with her declining health any longer. We drove to a clinic in North Andover, our girls cradling their "knucklehound" in the back seat.

We would return home to our small cottage that afternoon, knowing it would seem far too big without True. There would be reminders waiting for us, of course. Tennis balls in the backyard, the water/food dish in the kitchen, couches and carpets covered with her fine blonde fur. I'd miss her appearing out of nowhere every time I opened a peanut butter jar, or a package of cheese. Daily rituals, including her trembling delight at meal times, and our slow walks around the neighborhood (when she had to sniff every blade of grass), would change forever.

Now, though, we were only concerned for True's well being. More than anything, we didn't want her to be in pain. Her tail still thumped vigorously against the floor every time a new person came into the room, a sure sign of her indomitable spirit.

But part of True was clearly resigned. She had fought the good fight. She put her faith in our decision, just as she always had. She trusted us, unequivocally. She seemed perfectly at peace, even as the technician put the catheter into her front leg. The veterinarian then came in, assured us that we were doing the right thing, and explained the process. True, she promised, would not suffer.

Not a minute later, our beautiful True was gone. Her incredibly strong heart stopped beating, her labored breathing stilled. My wife, and our two daughters, took turns lying beside her, sobbing. The love this dog engendered was truly breathtaking. My girls then left, leaving me alone with my True.

I leaned in close, looking into those deep, milky brown eyes that no longer could see me. I apologized to her for being a less-than-perfect owner, for being short tempered at times, for being impatient when her boundless energy prompted her to run off.

Stroking her soft coat, I thanked True for the lessons she taught me, lessons about how to love without conditions, without boundaries of any kind. She taught me about joy – the joy of simple pleasures, joy of physical exertion, and joy of camaraderie, of just "being there." I knew I had to leave True's body behind, but I would take the lessons she taught with me.

Then, with a heavy heart and swollen eyes, I said my final good-byes to this wonderful athlete, to this perfect teammate. True.


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

What coaches and parents can learn from a caring teacher

Good teachers, like good coaches, lead by example.
Hi everyone,

I can't believe we're almost halfway through July.  Once our summer camps hit full stride, there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything done.

So I'll post this quickly, with little by way of an introduction. Suffice to say, I owe a great deal of gratitude to Martha Gillespie, my daughter Maddi's third grade teacher. Here's why:


What coaches and parents can learn from a caring teacher

Martha Gillespie is a coaching hero of mine. You probably don't know her. Don't feel bad. Martha Gillespie is not a hockey coach. She isn't famous. She was an elementary school teacher. But the traits she embodied are universal trademarks of good coaching (as well as good teaching, and good parenting).

Mrs. Gillespie espoused four beliefs that every coach, and every parent, can benefit from. First, she cared deeply about each student who walked into her classroom, and would go to bat for them even in the face of bureaucratic inertia. But she still held her students to a high standard, regardless of the challenges a diverse room of 3rd graders presents. That's point No. 2.

Which leads to Nos. 3 and 4. When Martha saw an issue, she was able to communicate with a child's parents clearly and concisely, sharing her concerns. And finally, she upheld the first three points because she never once mailed it in.

Based on her actions, Martha Gillespie never once considered teaching as a job, or obligation. It was a calling. In a great many ways (she abhorred the term "a lot"), that's what separates great coaches – coaches who truly make a difference – from those who are simply meeting a perceived responsibility.

How do I know Martha Gillespie? She was the third grade teacher of my eldest child, Mary. My daughter had struggled through second grade. She loved school, so it wasn't a case of a child who wanted to be elsewhere. But she did have trouble applying herself.

Her second grade teacher simply shrugged off Mary's inconsistent effort, and suggested she was just lazy. "Messy" and "disorganized" were two other adjectives. It wasn't said in a malicious way, but more just a matter-of-fact statement.

Since Mary was our first, my wife and I didn't really know any better when it came to expectations at school. We challenged her to buckle down, while realizing she was only 8. She could frustrate us, but we figured she was just going through the normal progression.

That changed the next year, with Martha Gillespie. A former elementary school librarian, Mrs. Gillespie noticed early on that Mary wasn't keeping pace.

"She recognized that Mary was an inattentive daydreamer, which is a hallmark of ADHD in girls," said my wife, Lauri, an occupational therapist. "It's very different from what most people characterize as ADHD."

When most people hear ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), or ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder), they think of children who are fidgety, hyperactive, impulsive, and maybe even disruptive. Mary wasn't any of these. But she was slow to transition in the classroom.

Mary was typically the last one to get her materials out for a new project, the last to put things away when the class moved on to another topic, and the last out the door for recess. Not a big deal, right? But Martha Gillespie made a note of it. In a classroom of 22 kids, she recognized that this child was struggling to keep up.

"Martha always had such a clear voice," said Lauri. "What made her special was that she was able to pay so much attention to one child in her class, and advocate for her. She took action. Not many teachers would do that.

"She saw Mary's action within the classroom setting, and recognized that it could be a problem for her long-term, if not addressed early."

Which brings me back to the four major principles that Mrs. Gillespie brought to her profession that any coach can benefit from.

Caring. Like any good coach or parent, Mrs. Gillespie made the effort to look below the surface. She didn't take my daughter at face value, but took the time to see if there was something else going on. She encouraged us to have Mary tested, both by the school, and more importantly, by outside evaluators.

In that way, Martha Gillespie displayed a rare and special attention to detail. That’s what coaches need to do. Kids aren't created equal. You need to get to know each one of them, and understand what makes them tick. That's a tall order. But it's also what makes coaches special.

Accountability. For Martha Gillespie, "caring" was a two-way street. Her students had to care as well. She never made any excuses for Mary, and I assume that she held our child to the same standard as every other youngster in her class. That was important to Lauri and me. Moreover, this is where Mrs. Gillespie was able to establish a level of expectation that applied to every child.

This is not semantics. Children will have different strengths and weaknesses, in the classroom and in the playing arena. So it's OK for teachers, and coaches, to adjust their expectations based on those individual qualities. But the one constant is effort. Martha Gillespie insisted that Mary try. And she had our full support.

Communication. Here's another "two-way" street. Identifying an issue is only the start. If you're a coach, you need to be able to talk to the parents of a child if there's an issue interfering with the team's chemistry. Conversely, parents have a two-fold responsibility.

First, if your child does have a disability, you coach deserves to know. Don't assume it won't be an issue (I'm speaking from experience here). Second, if you've taken that step, and you feel it's falling on deaf ears, you need to advocate for your child. That's not always easy, but it's necessary.

Commitment. Teaching, like coaching, ought to be a calling first, and a profession second. Martha Gillespie did what she felt was the right thing to do, regardless of what the consequences might be. How many of us can say that?

Like Mary's second-grade teacher, Mrs. Gillespie could have let our daughter coast. Her grades were satisfactory, if unexceptional, and she would have graduated. That wasn't acceptable to Martha. Instead, she went to bat for a child who she felt had potential, but wouldn't fulfill that promise without extra help.

Though I have no hard evidence, I'm convinced that having Mrs. Gillespie serve as such a strong advocate for Mary made it easier for Lauri and I to get our child the assistance she needed. We had her tested at Children's Hospital, and they confirmed Mrs. Gillespie's suspicions.

Our local school district was very supportive, "but that was driven by how attentive Martha was," said Lauri. "These were subtle things. They weren't blatant."

This past June, Mary graduated from high school, with a 3.4 grade point average. To say I'm immensely proud of this young woman would be an understatement. This child, together with my wife, worked her tail off, and made herself into a better student. As you read this, she'll be a freshman at the University of New England, pursuing a degree in sports medicine, and playing for the Nor'easters volleyball team.

At her graduation, my wife and I invited Mary's high school volleyball coach, who was tremendous advocate for our daughter, and one former teacher. That teacher was Martha Gillespie. She brought a scrapbook that her students had made for her, nine years earlier. The fact that she kept that memento was another testament to what her students meant to her.

As she was preparing to leave, I pulled Mrs. Gillespie aside. I told her I couldn't let her go without saying "Thank you," and sharing the immense sense of gratitude that came from the bottom of my heart.

"Please, you're going to make me cry," she said.

But I was way ahead of her. My eyes welled up with tears as I told this woman what an important role she played in helping to pave the road that would allow my daughter to succeed, not only in school, but also in life. Whatever this child achieves going forward, she will owe a debt to her third grade teacher.

What a wonderful legacy for any teacher. Or coach.


Thursday, May 19, 2016

Back to the basics

Goalies, on your mark, get set ...
Hi gang,

The importance of skating to the position of goaltending was drilled into my head a long, long time ago. Hall of Fame netminder Jacques Plante, in his famous instructional manual, "Goaltending," repeated the time-honored adage that "goalies have to be the best skaters on the ice." And I took particular pride, in high school, in making sure I didn't finish in last place during sprints and suicide drills.

Times have changed in the four decades since I laced up my skates for the Manchester Central Little Green. The skating techniques that goalies need to master today are much, much different than the ones I first learned, and even from those of positional players. Yes, there are still C-cuts, shuffles and T-glides (or drop steps), but there's much more to how a goaltending moves around the crease now.

Yet the emphasis on being a great skater, and becoming proficient in goalie-specific techniques, is more important than ever. Here's a column on the topic, based on my experiences last summer with Stop It Goaltending's summer camps at Merrimack College. Let me know what you think ...


Back to the basics

Each summer during goalie camp season, I work several sessions that focus strictly on skating and stickhandling. It would be a gross understate

ment to say that these sessions are typically met with a less-than-enthusiastic response from the campers. After all, they're goaltenders. And goaltenders live for stopping pucks. As our neighbors in Quebec might say, that's a goaltender's "raison d'etre," or reason for being. Making saves is fun. Skating and stickhandling? That's work.

However, it's important work. As a 50-something goalie coach, who has now seen generations of goaltenders come and go, I know just how foundational good skating is. The single most important aspect of good goaltending is getting to the right pace at the right time, in the right position. Do that, and you'll be successful most of the time. But to do that, you've got to be able to skate.

Still, try telling that to a bunch of hyperactive 12-year-olds. I've gotten pretty good with my snake-oil sales pitch, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel like a snake-oil sales pitch. I believe in what I'm selling; I just don't believe that my audience is all that receptive.

Here's a great example. Last month, I had a group of 12-year-old netminders for a 6 p.m. skate session, and a half a sheet to work with. These 10 boys had already been on the ice for two hours earlier in the day, and had done some off-ice training as well. So when I got them, their energy level was still pretty good, but their collective attention span left something to be desired.

Knowing that, I prepared my usual spiel about how even the best goaltenders work on their skating constantly. As in, all the time. I also try to remind my campers that the ability to handle the puck, and pass, is another crucial tool in the goaltending toolbox that far too many netminders, male and female, don't work on enough. And when coaches have two goaltenders who can stop the puck, they'll often go with the one with a more complete toolbox. Blah blah blah. This was going to be a hard sell, and I knew it.

Fortunately for me, I got a last-second assist. There's nothing better having a couple of National Hockey League netminders on hand to drive home the point. On the other half of the ice was Cory Schneider and Scott Darling, pro goaltenders with the New Jersey Devils and Chicago Blackhawks, respectively. Darling can even call himself a Stanley Cup champion these days, after he provided some quality performances this spring while backing up starter Corey Crawford. Darling was so effective, in fact, that the Blackhawks signed him to a new two-year deal.

So, in short, both Schneider and Darling have that "street cred" that an old coach like myself can only hope for. Since the two got on the ice a few minutes before my group, all I had to do was get my kids to watch them. Schneider and Darling set up a "four-puck drill," with the pucks forming a small square. The idea is to skate from puck to puck, first in a clockwise direction, and then in reverse. It's a simple drill, at first, but gets more complicated as you add more and more elements.

The pair started with drop steps (or T-pushes), and then began to add shuffles, butterfly slides, butterfly pushes, recoveries, and "momentum continuation" maneuvers (recovering to the next puck without stopping, using the back leg). Then they started adding pivots around each puck (clockwise and counterclockwise), and then literally moving pucks to pucks, working their stickhandling. Each movement was crisp and precise, with a corresponding head snap to find the next puck, while maintaining a quiet upper body. Each movement was also accompanied by the clean, distinct sound of their skate edges carving the ice. Ice shavings flew with each stop.

In 10 short minutes of flawless effort, both Schneider and Darling had worked up a good sweat, and came by the bench for a drink. While my young campers looked on, wide-eyed, I asked Darling how often he did skating exercises. "Every time I'm on the ice," he replied. "No shortcuts."

That's all he had to say. My campers were on the ice in a heartbeat, and we had a great workout. We skated almost non-stop for 40 minutes, concentrating strictly on the basics. The same thing happened the next day, and the day after, for the entire week. Each session, these kids worked their tails off, without a single inspirational speech from me.

By the end of the week, these youngsters were better goaltenders, in part because they bought into the value of hard work, and mastering the basics. All because they saw how important those basics are to goaltenders playing at the very top of the game.


Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Too much of a good thing is potentially bad for goalies

Goaltenders could learn a great deal from the Chinese philosophy
of yin and yang, where contrary or opposite forces are actually
complementary and interconnected in the natural world.
Hi gang,

Back after a brief sabbatical. Boy, there's nothing quite like serious hip surgery to help an old goalie regain his perspective. So I thought "perspective" would be a good topic to tackle this month.

Far too often, goalies (and young athletes in a variety of different sports) concentrate far too much on their chosen craft. There's a fine line between commitment (a good thing), and going overboard (a bad thing). And if you can't identify and respect where that line is, you risk losing perspective. Here's a column I did on the topic for the New England Hockey Journal. Let me know what you think.

All the best,


Too much of a good thing is potentially bad for goalies

"Get the balance right … "
-Depeche Mode

Almost every summer, I do a column or two on taking advantage of the off-season to work on improving your technique and keeping fit. Or improving your fitness. Because, as the old adage asserts, championships are won in the off-season.

One highly regarded goalie coach I work with delineates his roles between the off-season, when he calls himself a "development coach," and in-season, when he's a "performance coach." Translation? During the season, it's all about results. Just win, baby. The off-season is when he works on the big picture, the goalie's overall game. That's why summer camps are important. You can really push yourself, find out what works, and find out what doesn't, because you have time to assess the results without worrying about whether those results are affecting your team.

In-season is not the time to overhaul your game, or even experiment with new equipment (unless your old stuff is getting you hurt). You can tweak things, like your technique and your fitness level. It's always a good idea to be continuously mindful of what's working and what's not. Self-assessment is a trademark of all good goaltenders.

The same goes for hard work. Most goalies I know – especially the ones with a true competitive streak – will double down on their workouts if they feel their game is slipping. But there are limits.

Sometimes, we lose sight of a very simple, and very profound rule of athletics. You need time off. Your mind, and your body, need a break. The reality is that exhaustion, both mental and physical, can lead to poor performance. In other words, it's perfectly OK to chill from time to time. And that's something that parents, coaches, and even instructors like myself need to keep in mind.

"There's a growing enthusiasm, and a huge market, for training, teaching and supporting young athletes," said Dr. Adam Naylor, director of Telos Sport Psychology Coaching. "Elite sports performance and medicine services are available to all with a credit card, and if a family desires, a passionate and competent coach and advisor can be hired. This may not be a good thing.

"Forget the popular – yet very real – concern that pushing a young athlete toward athletic excellence can lead to burnout, dropout, and even mistreatment or abuse," he said. "Surprisingly, research has shown that encouraging youth to achieve athletic excellence can also lead to young athletes not fulfilling their athletic potential."

According to Naylor, we've become enamored with the works of researchers and authors like Anders Ericsson and Malcolm Gladwell (author of "Outliers") that indicate it takes 10 years and/or 10,000 hours of practice to perfect a certain activity, whether its computer programming, being a musician, or mastering a particular sport. Likewise, research by Angela Duckworth at the University of Pennsylvania has studied the value of "grit" in the classroom, and that has been applied to the playing field (or the ice, in the case of hockey).

Grit, according to Duckworth, is the "tendency to sustain interest in and effort toward very long-term goals," while self-control is "the voluntary regulation of behavioral, emotional, and attentional impulses in the presence of momentarily gratifying temptations or diversions." Both, it's safe to say, are considered attributes for a position as demanding as goaltending.

However, both concepts – repetition and grit – can be taken to extremes.

"In both cases, the message is loud and clear: train relentlessly and regularly and greatness is within grasp," said Naylor. "Unfortunately, this is an example of society and sports being deaf to nuance.

"Failure to understand Ericsson's entire conception of deliberate practice can make much athletic striving time ill-spent," he said. "Even if one is fortunate enough to have found excellent coaches and a sufficient number of competitive opportunities, striving toward excellence requires regular rest."

There's the rub. Athletes who push themselves to the breaking point, no matter how well-intentioned that effort is, risk breaking down. This past season, I was working with a freshman goaltender who was a coach's dream. The youngster was an absolute sponge when we talked about the technical aspects of the position, and he worked his tail off when we applied those lessons on the ice.

Then, one day, Andy (not his real name) was really dragging. He had no "pop" to his movements, and was continually dropping too quickly, instead of waiting on the shot. Once he dropped, he stayed down. So I asked him what was going on.

"I'm exhausted, coach," he said. "I did a leg workout after practice yesterday, and the day before. Today, I've got nothing."

"Well, d'uh," I replied. "You can't just keep running yourself into the ground, Andy. You've got to make sure you give yourself a chance to recover."

My response was almost a knee-jerk reaction, and had more to do with my prior life as an amateur mountain bike racer than my current role as a goalie coach. In my 30s, urged on by a few cycling pals, I started competing in mountain bike races. I wasn't ever very good, but I still wanted to get better. So I started training like a maniac, burying myself in these brutal training sessions day after day. Not exactly a scientific regimen.

Instead, I subscribed to the "No pain, no gain" theory so prevalent in the 1990s. If a one-hour training session was good, a 90-minute session was better. And, come the weekend, at the starting line, I had … nothing. Just like my freshman goaltender, I was toast. It didn't mean I couldn't race, but it was a slog.

So I started doing my homework, including long talks with my racing friends who had far more experience. The first thing they taught me was the "recovery ride." On Mondays and Tuesdays, especially post-race weekend, the gang would go out and soft pedal, spinning an easy gear just to encourage blood flow. We maintain a "conversational" pace, and never pushed our heart rates.

By mid-week, my legs had that "snap" that cyclist's love. I could push hard on Wednesday and Thursday, and then taper briefly on Friday. Then, come Saturday and Sunday, I had the lungs and legs to compete. Not that I was any threat to the top racers in the pack, but I could bring my best. Even better, I was having fun. Which is exactly what Naylor believes is a critical byproduct of rest.

"Physical and mental breaks during practice sessions, throughout seasons, and over the course of the year are necessary for an athlete to rebuild and return to play stronger and stronger," said Naylor.

"Hours of practice and participation in hyper-focused sports environments can saddle athletes with unnecessary expectations, where mistakes on the playing field are failures and stumbles feel like letting coaches and families down," said Naylor. "At the end of the day, sports is 'play.' When adults enthusiastically provide these opportunities but remove 'play' from the equation, something is amiss."

I couldn’t agree more.


Thursday, January 21, 2016

Bullying has no place on the ice, or in the locker room

Whether between boys or girls, bullying is wrong. Period.
Hey gang,

Heavy topic today. Bully is a very important topic for me, because it's the antithesis of what team sports should be about. Team sports are meant to build character, not tear it down. They should be an example that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, not a vehicle that allows some players to gain some misguided "advantage" over their teammates.

After my sophomore year in high school, my family moved, from New Jersey to New Hampshire. It was there, during my first season with the Central High hockey team, that I saw bullying in all its ugliness. The seniors wanted to "initiate" me. I wasn't going to let that happen, and I got into a few locker-room brawls because I wouldn't back down. To make things worse (for me), I wouldn't let the seniors initiate the freshmen either, because I wouldn't stand by idly while these 15- and 16-year-olds were bullied. That's not what my parents, and former coaches, taught me.

Of course, my actions had repercussions, and that season was pretty miserable, from a team standpoint (though I did make some great friends who weren't among the seniors). However, three decades later, one of those freshman reached out to me, via Facebook, and told me that he never forgot how I stood up for him. Whatever modest success I had as an athlete, none of it compared to getting that note.

The column below prompted a small firestorm among some readers of the New England Hockey Journal, because they recognized the players and schools involved (although I refrained from using the real names of any player or any school). Those people missed the point. This column is about the deleterious effects of bullying, and why it should never be accepted, at any level. Let me know what you think ...And thanks for reading!


Bullying has no place on the ice, or locker room

After a half century in the game of hockey, I thought I'd see it all (shades of Barry Melrose, who made the same comment after BU's Matt O'Connor handed Providence the tying goal in the 2015 NCAA final). Wrong.

Until now, I had never, ever, seen a mid-game fight between two high school goalies. Girls. On the same team. On the ice. During the break between periods, as the coach was giving instructions. In a lighthearted spring pick-up league. Crazy.

It was so surreal, that other parents and I thought the two girls were just goofing around. My daughter, who was on the same team as the combatants and on the bench right in front of the goalies, thought the same thing. When she realized that it was a genuine brawl, she stepped on the ice to separate the two, but she wasn't as quick as the coach.

That coach, to her credit, was on the girls in a heartbeat. Meanwhile, the mother of one of the goalies started screaming from the stands, and running toward the rink door.

"I've had enough of this," she hollered menacingly, pointing an accusatory finger directly at the girl who was tussling with her daughter.

It was a scene right out of some Fellini movie, unnerving and uncomfortable. Unless you knew the back-story. I did know part of that back-story, and quickly put the pieces together.

Just by chance, I had an opportunity to talk with the same mother before the game. It wasn't planned (at least not on my part). We had seen each other for the better part of the past two years, but never really had any serious conversation. But this afternoon, we found ourselves sitting together on a lobby bench, and we got to gabbing.

Her daughter, Abigail, was a high school freshman at Holy Name Prep (I'm refraining from using real names – people or schools – since I didn't have a chance to fully investigated the story). I say "was," because she transferred out of Holy Name in February, to another private school. The reasons, according to her mom, that precipitated that move were pretty disturbing.

Again, according to her mom, Abigail came to Holy Name the year before as an 8th grader, and was one of four goaltenders on the team. That's a dicey situation right off the bat. Most girls' high school teams are desperate for one goalie. Two is a luxury. Four is a problem, for obvious reasons. There's only one net, and one goalie plays. That meant Holy Name had three goalies in a back-up role.

During Abigail's 8th grade year, Holy Name had a senior goaltender who was the clear-cut starter. A natural order was established.

But, apparently, Abigail's stable mates – two freshman last year – were looking to the future, a future without the senior goaltender. So, according to Abigail's mother, the two targeted her daughter. The hazing started early, and soon became relentless. It ranged from annoying (a missing glove or other piece of equipment) to tampering (removing the edge from her skates) to physical abuse. Beatings. The mom said she regrets not taking pictures of the bruises that dotted her daughter's back and rib cage.

She said she went to school administrators, who told her she needed to talk to the coach (a male). She said she talked to the coach, but he said she needed to talk to school administrators. Talk about going in circles. Mom confided that it was clear that no one wanted to take responsibility. That's a damn same.

There's usually (but not always) two sides to every story. That's Journalism 101. But I've also learned that sometimes the story is simply the story. When a school, and a coach, stonewalls a parent, it typically raises suspicion. But rather than fight a deck that she felt was stacked against her daughter, the mom decided to enroll Abigail at another school. I told her that I hoped things would work out for her daughter, and went into the rink to watch some hockey.

That's when things went completely sideways. Abigail played the first half, and nothing seemed out of place. But, during the intermission between halves (again, this was springtime practice hockey), Abigail and the other goalie on her team started flailing away at each other.

A third goalie whom I happen to know, and who was skating as a forward in the same game, got off the ice at the same time as the goalies, and followed Abigail into the locker room to console her. When that girl came by the stands, I called her over, and asked if the second girl also went to Holy Name. "Yes," she said. "How did you know?"

Of course, I didn't, at least not until an hour before the game. But once I saw the girls taking swings, it made perfect sense. "Just a hunch," I said.

"Yeah, they've got history," said the girl.

And that was it. The first girl walked straight out of the rink, likely for the last time. Abigail and her parents spoke briefly to the rink manager, before also calling it a day. The game went on, and the little pas de deux between netminders was quickly forgotten. But I walked out of the rink that day with two long-time lessons being reinforced.

The first, of course, is you rarely know the entire story. If I hadn't had that chance conversation with Abigail's mother before the game, I would have cast the entire incident in an entirely different light. Even my daughter, who doesn't know either girl and was still puzzled by the whole incident afterward, said she was taken aback when the other goalie leveled Abigail.

All that said, I'm not buying the story Abigail's mom shared completely, not without getting both sides. But I've been around the game long enough to now that when a parent feels that strongly, there's usually some basis to her concerns.

The second, and equally important, is that bullying can never, ever be tolerated. Ever. I don't buy the "boys will be boys" or "girls will be girls" argument. Not anymore. I've seen this up close, and any coach that dismisses parental concerns out of hand probably ought to be dismissed.

Coaching a high school team goes far beyond X's and O's. Coaches need to accept and embrace the responsibility of how each player on their team behaves. The locker room is the coach's locker room. If they fail to police it adequately, they not only fail the boys and/or girls in that locker room, but also the parents who entrust their children to that particular program. That's especially true for men who coach girls' programs, because they don't have the same locker room access. It's imperative that they create a culture where bullying is not tolerated. At all.

I don't know everything that happened at Holy Name Prep, and what exactly led to Abigail feeling like she had no choice but to transfer to a different school. But I've seen far too many coaches fail in their responsibility to make sure that every child knows the locker room is a safe haven. There is no place for hazing, or bullying. None.


Thursday, December 24, 2015

Dear Santa – A holiday wish list for goalies young and old

Mom, can I finally upgrade my gear? Please?!
Hi gang

No time for a long-winded intro (for a change!). Just wanted to wish everyone "Happy Holidays!," and hope you and yours enjoy a healthy and prosperous New Year!

All the best,


Dear Santa – A holiday wish list for goalies young and old

In the youth hockey, spring is the "silly season," which starts the second the final whistle blows on the preceding season. That's when select or "elite" programs shift into overdrive, hosting "tryouts" and putting the full-court press on parents to sign up before those poor folks have even had a chance to thaw their rink-induced frozen bones.

But the original "silly season" is the insane shopping spree that begins the moment the Thanksgiving leftovers are packed up (and, in some ultra-greedy retail circles, even before Turkey Day dinner is served). Given the amount of gear that goalies require, and the exorbitant cost of that equipment (can someone explain to me why a single goalie glove costs three times as much as a pair of equivalent player gloves?), Christmas is a great time for parents to address a few Wish List items while simultaneously outfitting their young netminder.

That's a sound financial plan. But, buyer beware. There are definitely items you should NEVER buy for your goaltender without an ironclad promise that you can return them (assuming you want to have the gifts under the tree, as a surprise). Goaltenders – even young ones – are notoriously fussy about their gear. So you take a risk if you get them something that doesn't quite feel right.

For example, don’t buy new goalie skates without your child trying them on, unless you know the store will exchange them or accept returns. Whatever you do, don't have the shop sharpen those skates (most stores offer a free sharpening with purchase) before you gift-wrapped them. That way, you can still return/exchange them afterward for a different make or model.

The same goes for goalie pads, gloves, helmets, chest and arm protectors, and even pants. Different manufacturers use different design patterns, and what might be a great fit for one goaltender might feel all wrong for another. Again, it's best to have your child actually try them on for size and comfort.

So, with that said, here is The Goalie Guru's 2015 Wish List for Santa:


As a guy with more than his share of jerseys (you can ask my wife), I can vouch for hockey sweaters as a great holiday gift. Just make sure you get a "goalie cut" model. "Regular" jerseys don't account for bulky chest and arm protectors, and the sleeves will typically be cut too narrow. Fortunately, most jersey manufacturers today offer "goalie cut" jerseys in a number of sizes, so your Squirt netminder isn't playing in a jersey that looks like a tent. NHL team jerseys in goalie-cut, much like gloves, are ridiculously expensive. But you can find reasonably priced practice or uncrested jerseys.


There are a number of super goalie accessories, both practical and performance-oriented. Start with a neck "dangler" (a clear or tinted Lexan shield that "dangles" from a goalie mask for added throat protection). There's also the Shock Doctor Shockskin goalie shirt with extra padding in those gaps in a goalie's body armor (like the collarbone, sternum, kidney, and rib area). XH Series Achilles cut-resistant underwear guard against razor-sharp skates (these tights can be used by any player). Kevlar-reinforced socks work as well. A great "gag" gift that will be secretly appreciated, especially for a young man playing with a regular cup, is a sturdy, well-padded goalie cup (Reebok, Bauer, and Vaughn all make nice models).

Another very cool accessory that should be in every goalie's basement (or garage) is a quality drying rack. Wet equipment stinks, literally, and figuratively. Models by Winwell and Wet Gear feature powder-coated metal racks, which ought to last a few seasons. Rocket Sports takes the idea to another level, adding circulated warm air to eliminate dampness. Great concept.

Finally, consider getting your netminder a lateral slide board. These help with traditional skating stride, but can also be used to work on shuffles, drop steps, butterfly slides and butterfly pushes. My one piece of advice is to spend a little extra, because cheap models – usually advertised as aerobic trainers – won't stand up to the abuse of a hockey player. Reebok makes a terrific heavy-duty model.


Granted, these aren't the sexiest choices, but they make for great stocking stuffers. A basic skate stone or a more sophisticated tool, such as Sweet Stick, Re-Edger or SkateMate, help keep skates edges sharp. Every goalie should have a helmet/mask repair kit to replace missing screws and clips in their bag. This can be a critical safety issue (I've personally seen far too many youngsters sporting masks with missing screws, which is an accident waiting to happen). Bauer offers The Goalie Hardware Box as the ultimate goalie repair kit, which includes replacement leg straps, buckles, washers, screws and snaps for use on leg pads and helmets, all packed in a handy carrying case.


This sounds self-serving, since I work (part-time) as a goalie coach. That's not my intent. In my travels from rink to rink, I'm still surprised that so many parents aren't aware of goalie-specific training outside their child's hockey program, whether at the youth, middle school, or high school level. Many programs will even help with the cost of private instruction. That helps take the edge off the financial hit. But a 10-pack of lessons (to use a round number) with a reputable goalie coach will pay huge dividends in your child's development.

In the same vein, check out Maria Mountain's site. Mountain, a personal trainer based in London, Ontario, is one of the best in the business for off-ice training. Mountain provides plenty of free advice on her web site, on everything from strength training and flexibility to nutrition, but she also offers full training programs at very reasonable prices.


For the studious netminder, there are several first-rate instructional books and videos available. These allow netminders to work on their game even when they're enjoying some down time. Here are some favorites:

"Hockey Goaltending," edited by Brian Daccord. Make sure you get the second edition of Daccord's book, which includes an excellent DVD covering the basics of the position. In this edition, Daccord, the owner of Stop It Goaltending, brings together a number of top goaltending coaches to discuss awareness, technique, and physical conditioning.

"The Hockey Goalie's Complete Guide: An Indispensable Development Plan," by Francoise Allaire. Known as the godfather of the butterfly style, Allaire lays out a four-year development plan that includes advice on basic save techniques, skating techniques, on-ice and off-ice training methods, and how to evaluate goalkeepers.

"Modern Goaltending, Modern Game," by Sean Moloney. An instructor at World Pro Goaltending, Moloney covers the technical aspects of the position as well as on- and off-ice drills, the mental aspect of the position, advice for coaches on handling goaltenders, and advice for parents.

"The Power Within: Discovering the Path to Elite Goaltending," by Mike Valley and Justin Goldman. Valley, a Dallas Stars goalie coach, and Goldman, a USA Hockey scout, employ their Three Pillars of Elite Goaltending to elevate your mental game, supported by insights from NHL goaltenders and goalie coaches on a multitude of performance-related topics.

"Goaltending Today: Traditional Values Through New Techniques," by Joe Bertagna. This DVD by the former Bruins and Olympic goaltending coach, along with former NHLer Mike Morrison, provides the latest trends for today's goaltending, highlighting the toughest shots and how to defend them, and advice on knowing when to make blocking saves versus reaction saves.


Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The mindset of a champion

Union College goaltender Colin Stevens, NCAA champion.
Hi folks,

Sorry for being out of the loop for the past few months. I thought life would get simpler with a daughter heading off to college. But with Maddi playing volleyball up the road at the University of New England, things have only gotten more hectic, with my wife and I traveling to games. Which is all good. Nothing better than watching your child play a sport she loves.

So, in keeping with the collegiate theme, here is a column I wrote after the Union Dutchmen won the school's first NCAA championship, coming out on top at he 2014 Frozen Four. Junior goalie Colin Stevens was instrumental in that championship run, and his back story was just as interesting. I thought it was important to share it. Let me know what you think ...


The mindset of a champion

While the Stanley Cup is the be all and end all for many hockey players and most fans, I still think of April as championship season. I suppose that reveals my fondness for the college game, and the NCAA's Frozen Four.

This past April, the Dutchmen of Union College provided a breath of fresh air for college hockey enthusiasts, emerging from a Frozen Four featuring traditional powers Boston College, Minnesota and North Dakota to win the school's first NCAA championship. If you couldn't find something to enjoy in the three games of the Frozen Four, you've got to ask yourself if you're a real hockey fan. But it wasn't all attractive hockey, which might have been the best part of all.

The Dutchmen's defense was far from airtight. They gave up four goals to Boston College in the semifinal, but won 5-4 when Union junior goaltender Colin Stevens blocked Johnny Gaudreau's last-second bid. Two nights later, Stevens gave up another 4-pack in the title game against the Minnesota Golden Gophers. But the Dutchmen tallied seven, and won 7-4.

My first thought was, "Well, I guess defense doesn't always win championships." And it was encouraging – and entertaining – to watch a couple of freewheeling games. But in reality, Stevens did put his stamp on the Dutchmen's championship season. He made key saves when he needed to, which any coach will tell you is essential to winning big games.

Stevens and the Dutchmen closed out the 2013-14 season on a 17-game unbeaten streak (16-0-1). After Union erased a two-goal deficit to tie Colgate, 4-4 on Feb. 15, they didn't surrendered more than two goals in a game leading up to the Frozen Four. When the red lights started flashing in Philadelphia, Stevens could have crumbled. He didn't. And that might well be because he'd been through worse.

"Colin has faced a lot of adversity through his three years, and I think through that adversity he's really learned from that," said Union coach Rick Bennett. "He's matured. He's gotten bigger, gotten stronger, throughout his time here. He came in very young, and it just takes time. I think the time he has spent on getting bigger and stronger, and he just had to go through a season of games.

"More importantly, Colin's been willing to work hard and get better," said Bennett. "The guys see the work he puts in, so when they're out there playing, they're playing so hard for him because they know how hard he works. And I think there's something to that."

There is unquestionably "something to that." I've had the good fortune to work with Stevens at Stop It Goaltending during our summer sessions, and I can vouch for the young man's work ethic. He's quiet, respectful, but has an intensity about him that drives that willingness to dig deep. That's what is needed to be a champion.

Which got me thinking about a fascinating article on the topic by Stanford psychology professor Carol Dweck, entitled "The Mindset of a Champion."

"There are things that distinguish great athletes – champions – from others," said Dweck. "Most of the sports world thinks it's their talent, but I will argue that it's their mindset. This idea is brought to life by the story of Billy Beane, told so well by Michael Lewis in the book Moneyball. When Beane was in high school, he was in fact a huge talent – what they call a 'natural.' He was the star of the basketball team, the football team, and the baseball team – and he was all of these things without much effort. People thought he was the new Babe Ruth.

"However, as soon as anything went wrong, Beane lost it," she said. "He didn't know how to learn from his mistakes, nor did he know how to practice to improve. Why? Because naturals shouldn't make mistakes or need practice. When Beane moved up to baseball's major leagues, things got progressively worse. Every at-bat was a do-or-die situation and with every out he fell apart yet again. If you're a natural, you believe that you shouldn't have deficiencies, so you can't face them and coach or practice them away."

Dweck's research has identified two different types of "mindsets." Some athletes, she says, have a "fixed mindset," in which "they see abilities as fixed traits. In this view, talents are gifts – you either have them or you don't."

Others, according to Dweck, have a "growth mindset" regarding ability. "They believe that people can cultivate their abilities," she said. "In other words, they view talents as potentialities that can be developed through practice. It's not that people holding this mindset deny differences among people. They don't deny that some people may be better or faster than others at acquiring certain skills, but what they focus on is the idea that everyone can get better over time."

Dweck goes on to state that either mindset can achieve great things. But for my money, based on decades of coaching, I'll put my money on the "growth" mindset. Dweck appears to concur.

"We have found in our research that people's mindsets set up completely different motivations," said Dweck. "The fixed mindset, in which you have only a certain amount of a valued talent or ability, leads people to want to look good at all times. You need to prove that you are talented and not do anything to contradict that impression, so people in a fixed mindset try to highlight their proficiencies and hide their deficiencies. In fact, we have found that they will often reject valuable learning opportunities if these opportunities hold the risk of unmasking their shortcomings."

Of course, in reality, everyone has shortcomings. It reminds me of the old skiing adage, "If you're not falling, you're not trying." We learn by falling, and getting back up. Over and over again. The fixed mindset, however, doesn't allow people the leeway to expose themselves "and remedy their weaknesses, because any weakness can indicate a permanent lack of ability," said Dweck.

"In contrast, the growth mindset, in which you can develop your ability, leads people to want to do just that," she said. "It leads them to put a premium on learning."

I've seen this time and time again, even with high-level goalies. During the summer, the Stop It Goaltending staff spends considerable time with outstanding goalie coaches from around the world. Our colleagues from Sweden, and Magnus Olsson of Blue Crease Goaltending in particular, are developing and employing some cutting-edge skating and blocking techniques that continue to revolutionize the position. But many of our top-flight collegiate goalies are hesitant to even try them.

Others, however, are always willing to experiment, guys like Northeastern's Clay Witt, US Olympian Molly Schaus, and Union's Colin Stevens. I always tell my goalies that they can never have too many arrows in their quivers. If you have the chance to try something new, take advantage of that opportunity. And don't give it a half-hearted effort, either. Give it everything you've got. You just might find it works for you, and you'll be able to use it.

"People in the growth mindset understand that effort is the way that ability is brought to life, and allowed to reach fruition," said Dweck. "Far from indicating a lack of talent, they believe that even geniuses need great effort to fulfill their promise. People with a growth mindset not only believe in the power of effort, they hold effort as a value."

Colin Stevens is always willing to learn and always puts in the effort. And now, he has an NCAA championship to validate all the time he's spent perfecting his craft.