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

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.


Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Lessons learned from goalies behaving badly

Josh Ho-Shang and Anthony Stolarz battle for the puck.
Hi gang,

Once again, summer has gone roaring by, filled with goalie camps featuring every kind of goaltender imaginable. I worked with boys and girls, men and women, from tiny 6-year-olds to NHL netminders Cory Schneider and Scott Darling. The sheer spectrum of ages and abilities is what makes coaching so challenging, and so much fun. But, as we often say about goaltending, if it was easy, everyone would do it.

This summer has also had an unmistakable bittersweet mood, as my eldest child, Maddi, prepares to head off to college. Maddi is our volleyball player, and I suspect she's in for a surprise when she gets to the University of New England, and realizes first hand the demands of a collegiate program. That reminded me of this column, which I'm pulling out of the archives. The theme is a simple one: How do you handle adversity?

The examples below illustrate the wrong way to do it, but it's my hope that there are lessons that can be learned from the actions of these two short-sighted netminders. Let me know what you think ...


Lessons learned from goalies behaving badly

For some goaltenders, the late-season and playoffs can bring out their best performances. For others, that pressure-cooker can be too hot to handle.

Last year at this time, I was writing about a punk netminder from a Minnesota high school who, on Senior Night, intentionally put the puck in his own net, erasing his team's one-goal lead. After giving a middle-finger salute to his bench and coaching staff, he left the ice, and his team wound up losing the game, 3-2. Nice, huh? Fortunately, the school saw fit to suspend this clown, though the damage was already done.

Then, this spring, an OHL playoff game between the Windsor Spitfires and the London Knights featured not one, but two acts of incredibly selfish behavior by goaltenders. The first was Knights' goalie Anthony Stolarz, who took exception to a tap on the pads after tying up the puck and clubbed Spitfire forward Josh Ho-Sang in the back of the head. This was a full-fledged tomahawk chop, with Stolarz holding his stick at the top of the shaft for a maximum arc. Ho-Sang wasn't even looking, having turned away at the whistle (you can see a video clip here).

It was an indefensible act, "temporary insanity" notwithstanding. Stolarz is lucky that Ho-Sang didn't suffer more serious injury, or the former USA national development team member might have seen his major junior career come to a sudden and swift end. And justifiably so. This is not a Billy Smith-style swing at a guy's ankle (not that I'm condoning that course of action either). Stolarz targeted Ho-Sang's cranium (giving a new meaning to his previous junior team, the New Jersey Hitmen).

In this day and age of increased awareness of concussions and head injuries, Stolarz's attack was as cowardly as it was premeditated. It showed total disregard for an opponent, which is a disconcerting trend in the game. I was stunned that the on-ice officials only gave Stolarz a 2-minute minor, which was a ludicrous decision. Fortunately, officials with the Ontario Hockey League saw fit to take far more appropriate action, banning Stolarz for eight games. I hope he takes the time to give some serious thought to his ill-conceived actions.

Another guy who'll have plenty of time to consider the fallout of his actions is Spitfire goaltender Dalen Kuchmey. In the same game, which the Knight's ultimately won, 10-2, Kuchmey pulled himself from Windsor's net with 5:34 left in the second period. He stormed off to the dressing room, changed, and drove off after surrendering eight goals on 26 shots, leaving the Spitfires trailing 8-1.

Not even the great Patrick Roy, when he famously told the Montreal Canadiens that he'd played his last game for Les Habs after the Detroit Red Wings lit him up for nine goals on 26 shots in 32 minutes on Dec. 2, 1995, left the ice on his own. He waited, enduring the shortsighted wrath of the Montreal crowd, until clueless coach Mario Tremblay pulled him from the game. And Roy had two Stanley Cups on his resume by that point.

In the Knights-Spitfires game, there were extenuating circumstances. Kuchmey was Windsor's backup, but got the starting nod because the Spitfires' first-string goalie, Alex Fotinos, was on the bench, sick as a dog. Spitfire coach Bob Bougner told reporters afterward that he had no choice but to leave Kuchmey in the game, given Fotinos' condition. But that, apparently, wasn't Kuchmey's primary concern.

"They embarrassed me in front of my fans, especially in the playoffs," Kuchmeny told the Windsor Star. "(Boughner) could have put Fotinos in to let the bleeding stop. He knows I wasn't having a good game and could have recognized it."

Excuse me? Parents, you really need to read that last graph again. Because if your child has ever complained about a coach's decision, and you allowed it, then you're enabling your child. Excuses are a dime a dozen, and they're for losers. Not only did Kuchmey equate getting torched with Fontinos' illness, but he completely forgot his role.

"A big part of goaltending is situational awareness, everything from knowing how the puck bounces of the boards in a rink to how a team runs their power play," said Stop It goaltending director John Carratu, the goalie coach at Merrimack College. "This goalie knew the situation the team was in. They needed him to fill a specific role, and he didn't want to do it.

"It's like (former Red Sox pitcher) Tim Wakefield in Game 3 of the 2004 series against the Yankees," he said. "He went in to give the pitching staff a chance to rest and regroup. He absorbed a beating from the Yankees, but the staff got the rest it needed. It was the ultimate 'take one for the tea' moment. The Sox came back to win the series, and Wakefield is held in the highest regards amongst Sox fans."

Kuchmey went on to say he was considering quitting the game. My guess is that OHL coaches and general managers have already made that decision for him. Teams, at the major junior level, don't invest in quitters.

Clearly, Kuchmey "was not mature enough to understand the consequences of his actions," said Carratu. "I know hockey is an emotional sport, but part of the game, and life for that matter, is learning to control emotions."

Now, compare Kuchmey's behavior to two outstanding goalies from Hockey East. Lowell's Doug Carr and Boston College's Brian Billett are very good goaltenders in their own right. Carr deservedly got huge props for backstopping the River Hawks to the NCAA tournament in 2012. But last year, he relinquished the starting role, only because of the stellar play of freshman Connor Hellebuyck. Similarly, Billett, a junior, this season lost his starting spot to Eagle freshman Thatcher Demko.

But neither upperclassman complained, or sulked, or quit. Quite the contrary, their coaches repeatedly held them up as shining examples of model teammates, willing to do whatever was necessary to help the team win. That's how it should be.

Unlike Stolarz, Kuchmey in all likelihood ended his career with his premature exit. That's a shame, because he has to have some talent to play at that level. But somewhere along the line, the concept that hockey is a team game was lost on him.


Guru mailbag

The letter: Hi. Just wanted to say I really enjoyed your article in the Hockey Journal about having a thick skin (NEHJ, February, 2014). I couldn't help but think of it the other day as I watched a goalie have a meltdown because he was being scored on at stick-and- puck skate. I've always believed in showing nothing. Just drink some water, and get back in my stance. I look forward to future articles!

My answer: Thanks for the note. I couldn't agree more. Sports are often a great corollary for life, and how we deal with adversity is important. There are two main lessons. First, like this month's column points out, it's not about you. It's about your team. If a goaltender loses his cool, it engenders doubt among his teammates, and emboldens his opponents. Neither helps his team's chances of winning. Second, you can't allow an opponent's taunting, or a bad goal, to rob you of your love for the game. At the end of the day, hockey is a game, and the object of games is having fun. By getting upset with either trash talk or a bad outing, you cheat yourself of the game's greatest trait.


Sunday, June 21, 2015

Taking time off won't stunt your child's growth

Mother Nature never intended for kids to play hockey
year round. That's why ice melts in the summer.
Hi gang,

So, it's already late June, and my summer camps schedule starts in earnest next week. It's remarkable to see how big the business of goalie coaching has gotten in the past 10 years. Summer, oddly enough, is my busiest time of the year when it comes to coaching, and my writing often takes a back seat.

So it's with a certain sense of irony that I venture into today's topic. The coach in me knows that the off-season is a great time to take your game to the next level (or for your child to do the same). But it's called the "off-season" for a reason. Don't forget to give yourself, or your child, a break. Here are some thoughts on the topic. Let me know what you think.


Taking time off won't stunt your child's growth

March and April signal the end of another ridiculously long youth hockey season. And, unfortunately, the beginning of the next. Starting with Labor Day, the season usually runs for more than seven months. Why? Because youth hockey is driven by people who own the rinks, the leagues, and the teams. They want those sheets filled. Let's not sugarcoat this – today's youth hockey landscape, in large part, isn't designed to transform little Johnny into an NHLer or Division I player, or little Jennifer into an Olympian. It's designed to make big bucks for grown-ups.

Now, before I go any further, I need to distinguish between "for-profit" select and/or club programs, and the traditional "non-profit" town programs. On the whole, I'm far more concerned with the select or club teams. They charge more, promise more, and sometimes deliver more. But even non-profit local "town" programs are forced to play this game, because for-profit leagues and rink owners dictate the schedule.

That's why, when the season ends, tryouts start almost immediately. Select or club teams want to get you, and your child, back on the hook. The tryouts themselves can be a shameless money grab, with dozens of kids trying out for a handful of spots, at $20 or more per session. Then there are spring and summer leagues, with requisite practice sessions. All of which cost money. As too many professional athletes say these days, "It's a business." We need rinks, which means rink owners need to make money. I get it. The problem, though, is that this "business" traffics in young boys and girls, and the dreams of parents.

Admittedly, some "select" programs do a better job developing players. But I've seen a seismic shift in select hockey that's akin to an arms race. Youth programs are actively recruiting kids as young as 10. Once one program starts advertising championships or high-profile "alumni," they all do. Then the goal becomes "winning," and "marketing." Somewhere along the line, the ideals of "childhood" and "age-appropriate development" get trampled.

It's time to stop this madness. Or at least scale it back to a "reasonable" level. Playing hockey year-round, whether you're a goaltender or a positional player, isn't automatically going to make you an all-star (especially if you don't have the natural physical gifts). It won't even automatically make you the best player you can be. We've been sold a bill of goods that most experts acknowledge is misguided.

I guarantee you this much – Year-round hockey isn't necessary. Your child won't be banished to some hockey hinterland if he doesn't play all summer. Do you think Bobby Orr played year-round? Gordie Howe? Patrick Roy? Orr, in his recent autobiography, practically begs parents to come to their senses and bring some sanity back to the youth game. Mark Dennehy, the coach of the Merrimack College Warriors, has told me repeatedly that the number of D-I prospects on any "select" team can be counted on one hand. With fingers left over.

Worse, it's far more likely that these programs, while churning out little automatons who "look" good, fail to cultivate any true love for the game. The kids can skate, shoot, and stop the puck, but are they having fun? I honestly fear that that soul of the game is being compromised by this Faustian pact that parents agree to, which essentially states that if they pay top dollar for "top-level" programs, they ensure their offspring a spot on at least a college or major junior roster. Yet anyone who is familiar with the German legend of Faust knows how badly that arrangement ends, with Lucifer hauling the old man off to Hades.

The youth hockey corollary is a child who says, "the heck with it," and simply walks away from the game. No one wins in that scenario.

Here's what I suggest to parents. First, lighten up. A once-a-week program (maybe twice) in the off-season, supplemented by one or two full-week camps, is plenty to keep your child's skills sharp. I'm a big proponent of instructional programs, whether clinics or camps, provided they're done in moderation. I've heard stories of parents lugging their kids from one goalie camp to another over the course of the summer. That's just nuts.

A once-a-week clinic, or occasional camp, can be tailored to a specific need, such as skating, stickhandling, or defensive play. For goaltenders, weekly clinics will maintain their current ability level. A concentrated camp, on the other hand, can correct bad habits that crept into their game over the course of a long season. The repetition of a good week-long camp provides the building blocks that goalies need to improve their game, without going overboard.

Second, encourage your kids to play other sports. Ball and stick sports like basketball, baseball/softball, tennis, soccer, lacrosse, or football. Lifetime sports like hiking, cycling (road and mountain bike), swimming, trail running, or rock climbing. Have them play tag, or hide and seek. Get them outside, and let them have fun. No systems, no drills, no structure. As long as they're active, it's all good.

The best all-around player on my daughter's high school team "dabbles" in hockey in the off-season. She might attend a summer camp, or skate the occasional weekend game in the fall, provided it doesn't conflict with her soccer schedule. But when hockey season starts in November, she is "all in." I firmly believe this impressive young woman played so well because she was hungry for hockey once the season rolled around.

That's what you want; Hungry players, who love hitting the ice. It's the rare player who can maintain that passion throughout the year. Forcing them, under the guise of constant improvement, often has just the opposite result.


Guru Mailbag

The Letter: Hi. My daughter Ashley is just 15 and a high school freshman. She has been playing hockey for five years. She mostly plays defense, but this year her high school team needed her to play forward. She is a strong skater. She will be teaching with Laura Stamm at our local rink this summer. However, she is strongly considering learning how to play goalie. She plays goalie in field hockey and has been exceptional. I think she has the "goalie mindset." If she is to play goalie next season, she'll need to start training now and over the summer. Can you give us some suggestions for off-season training and summer goalie camp ideas? Thanks.

My Reply: Great questions. First, I think it's great that Ashley is working with Laura Stamm. That will remind her of the importance of skating. Goalie-specific skating, on the other hand, is a very different animal. It is the foundation of everything we do, because getting to the right place at the right time is the key to making saves. But while the skating is different, it's not rocket science, either. If you're an athlete, which Ashley appears to be, the conversion isn't that difficult. What it takes is fairly intense repetition. With new goalies, I recommend a 4- or 5-day summer camp, one that offers at least two hours of on-ice instruction per day. My daughter's high school team had two beginner goalies this season, and I convinced their parents to send both to a local camp in August. The improvement was really impressive, and rewarding. A good goalie camp provides not only repetition, but proper repetition (assuming quality instruction). Also, look for camps that have paid college shooters, not volunteers. Better shooters make better drills, and better goalies. Last, talk to the camp owner, or the director. If you have any questions, ask. Don't assume. This conversation will, at the very least, give you a sense for what the owner's priorities are. If he spends too much time talking about himself, and not about your child and what he or she can expect to learn, that's a red flag. Camps, like hockey programs, should be about development, both in terms of skill, and love of the game. Best, -Brion


Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Few understand the exquisite agony of a goalie gaffe

Boston University goaltender Matt O'Connor.
Hi gang,

Every goaltender gives up bad goals. Unfortunately, they come with the territory. But how we deal with those bad goals often defines who we are, what kind of character we have, and what kind of goaltender we'll ultimately be.

Boston University's Matt O'Connor (no relation) gave up a terrible goal (a full video can be seen here) at the worst possible time -- The NCAA title game, with his team nursing a one-goal lead. Absolutely brutal. How he moves forward from this will speak volumes about this young man. This piece was originally published for Sports Illustrated's Edge platform (seen here). Let me know what you think ...


Few understand the exquisite agony of a goalie gaffe

There are bad dreams. Then there are nightmares. Hockey goaltenders know both. But it's the nightmares that can not only cost them a game, or a championship, but also derail a career.

"(Montreal Canadien Hall of Famer) Jacques Plante said it best," said Dr. Saul Miller, author of "Hockey Tough" and "Performing Under Pressure." "He said, 'Can you imagine a job where every time you make a mistake, a red light goes on and 15,000 people stand up and cheer?' That's pressure."

Boston University junior netminder Matt O'Connor knows. Coming into the Frozen Four, the undrafted Ontario native had a banner season, backstopping the Terriers to the biggest turnaround in college hockey. NHL scouts took notice after O'Connor and BU captured Beanpot and Hockey East championships on the Boston Bruins home ice, the TD Garden. The third championship game, however, would not be the charm.

After recovering from a puck-handling miscue in the national semifinal against North Dakota, which BU won 5-3, O'Connor and his Terrier mates were battling the Providence Friars for the NCAA title. With less than nine minutes left, and BU nursing a 3-2 lead, Friar defenseman Tom Parisi lofted a harmless dump-in toward the Terrier net. It was such a routine play that Parisi turned for a line change the moment the puck left his stick.

O'Connor caught Parisi's pop fly, but in a split second of indecisiveness, he hesitated as his defensemen circled back. The puck slipped from his glove, and fell between his legs. O'Connor dropped to his knees, inadvertently knocking the puck into his goal. As two BU teammates clutched their helmets in disbelief, O'Connor looked agonizingly into his empty mitt. It was a soul-crushing gaffe.

Moments later, Friar Brandon Tanev ripped the game-winner over O'Connor's left shoulder, giving Providence a 4-3 victory and their first men's hockey national championship. But even in celebration, Friar goaltender John Gillies, the Frozen Four MVP despite giving up a shaky early goal of his own, empathized with his counterpart.

"As a goalie, you feel for a bounce like that," said Gillies, who signed with the Calgary Flames this week. "You've been there, so you know the bottomless feeling that it presents."

The key phrase is, "as a goalie." The position carries unique pressures that few positional players can fully appreciate unless they've spent time between the pipes. But all goalies, from 6-year-olds to the NHL (especially those now playing in the Stanley Cup playoffs), are all too familiar with the weight or expectations. St. Louis Blues goaltender Jake Allen felt the heat after he gave up two embarrassingly soft goals against the Minnesota Wild in Game 6 of the opening round, costing his team the game and the series.

"If a forward isn't forechecking aggressively, and the other team has an easy breakout, who notices it?" said Miller. "If the D-man's gap is too big and the opponent gets some momentum and generates a chance, some people might see that. But if the goalie makes a mistake, the whole world sees it. It's very consequential."

Bad goals magnify that burden. Worse, goalies can't actively atone for a mistake. If an infielder boots a grounder in baseball, he can make amends next time he bats. But a goaltender must wait for the game to come to him.

"The difference between good goalies and really good goalies is having patience," said Brian Daccord of Stop It Goaltending, a former goalie coach for the Bruins. "That's mental toughness."

So how does a goalie recover? In the moment, Miller suggests taking a deep breath and reiterating key concepts, like staying square to the shooter. In the big picture, however, it's essential that goalies cultivate a positive mindset.

"Everybody gets scored upon," said Miller. "Maybe not quite as dramatically, or in the theater that this was, but everyone gets scored on. So you have to learn, as a goalie, how to let it go and get back to the present. The mantra is, 'Next shot. See it, and stop it.' That's all the goalie should be thinking."

Dr. Dan Schaefer, author of "Click! The Competitive Edge for Sports, Entertainment, and Business," said the subconscious mind plays a vital role in a goalie's ability to "bounce back" from a bad goal. Negative thoughts can become self-fulfilling prophecies.

"What's the internal conversation?" said Schaefer. "Most self-talk is negative, and it's contaminating."

Schaeffer employs hypnosis to help clients uncover hidden mental riddles, solve them, and take ownership.

"How do you control your mind game?" he said. "How do you talk to yourself going into the game? How do you identify and eliminate distractions?"

Both Schaefer and Miller draw on examples from the animal kingdom to help goalies quickly regain focus. Schaeffer prefers the rhinoceros. "A rhino is the only animal that never backs up," he said. "He just keeps moving forward."

Miller likes big cats. When a lion fails to catch an antelope, it doesn't wallow in self-pity.

"There's no negative judgment," he said. "It's always about getting after the next one. So it's a training thing. It's teaching people a process."

Following the game, O'Connor faced the music. The 23-year-old sat in his stall, answering question after question about a mistake he couldn't explain. That post-game performance, say sports psychologists, was an important first step.

"There’s nothing like public humiliation to test your mental fortitude and humbleness," said Dr. Adam Naylor, director of Telos Sport Psychology Coaching. "If you're not willing to be embarrassed, it's tough to play freely at the highest levels.

"The first step in such emotional setbacks is to allow yourself to grieve a bit," said Naylor. "Grieving when something meaningful is lost is a critical piece of being able to step forward.

"When it's time to compete, the great ones look ahead rather than look back," he said. "The past has been mourned and put into perspective. Now it's time to play and write the next chapter."

Perspective also allows goaltenders to remember all the important saves they've made. BU's Hobey Baker winner Jack Eichel confirmed that his teammates understood O'Connor's performance was a major factor in the Terriers reaching the Frozen Four.

"The one thing about goaltending is that you always have to prove yourself," said Daccord. "It never ends. Whether you give up a bad goal, or win a Stanley Cup, you have to prove yourself. "

Matt O'Connor will undoubtedly welcome that opportunity.


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Coaches can never forget they're teachers first

Clear communication is a key to good coaching.
Hi gang,

Happy Tax Day! Nothing like the thought of Uncle Sam reaching deep into my wallet to motivate me to find a healthy distraction. So, instead, I thought I'd concentrate on something I can feel good about, which often brings me back to hockey.

For the most part, hockey has always been a great outlet for me, whether I'm playing, coaching, or simply watching. It's a sport that I can literally immerse myself in, which allows me an escape from life's little day-to-day headaches. For me, the best part of a team sport is sharing experiences, that interaction with the other players. And that's all about communication. On the coaching side, it means teaching. Which brings me to this month's topic. Let me know what you think ...


Coaches can never forget they're teachers, first and foremost

Mom always used to say, "There's a right way and a wrong way to do things." Pretty simple advice, which is often the best advice. There's definitely a right way, and a wrong way, to coach young hockey players, and especially goalies. For the most part, it boils down to communication.

With the explosion of youth hockey, there are more and more teams, and subsequently the need for more and more coaches. Many are qualified. Many aren't. To some degree, it's a numbers game. But I've seen a raft of former players filling these spots, with mixed results. Just because you could play, doesn't automatically mean you can coach.

The best case I can recall comes from the National Basketball League, with Larry Bird. Even though Bird was successful, it was painfully obvious that he didn't always have the patience necessary to deal with players who didn't grasp the game as quickly as he did. The same disconnect frustrated Wayne Gretzky during his tenure in Phoenix.

Obviously, it's one thing to be able to do something, and another thing altogether to be able to convey how to do that particular something to someone else. The key is being able to communicate. Sadly, though, communication has become something of a lost art. I've seen it repeatedly, observing countless youth hockey and high school games. Coaches, arms crossed, exhorting their players without actually taking the time (and effort) to teach them. It makes me wonder why they're coaching.

Remember why you took the job (realizing, for most of us, it's not a "job" as much as a calling). Was it all about wins and losses, or was it about helping kids improve? That's what you need to focus on. If you do that, the wins and losses will take care of themselves. But player development has to be your No. 1 priority.

Think about this scenario. I've watched a coach leave the rink following a loss without saying a word to a team of 13- and 14-year-olds. This is not coaching. It's pouting. What does this "teach" your players? Instead, you run the risk of a bunch of boys or girls looking around at each other and thinking, "Well, I guess coach doesn't care." Now, I understand, and even appreciate, that the coach might be upset, but the coach also has to remember who the adult is in this equation.

Likewise, screaming at your players from the bench to "work harder" has a limited application. Even if you're right, there's usually more at issue than just effort. Often at the Squirt, Pee Wee and Bantam levels, the players need instruction. You need to be able to explain, in the moment, what happened, what a player did wrong, and what that player should have done instead. You need to teach. And you need to do it right then and there, when the play is still fresh in the player's mind. In many ways, it's the coach who has to "work harder."

In the same vein, telling the goalie to "stop the puck" is meaningless. I mean, d'uh! Every goalie I've ever worked with, over nearly two decades of coaching, knows that's the job. Stop the puck. But as young goalies develop, they're going to make mistakes, and it's the coaches job to catalog those mistakes and help them correct them.

This is the teaching component. Firing a ton of pucks at your goalies isn't going to improve their technique. In fact, it's likely to increase the number of flaws in their game. If you don't have a goaltending background, learn the basics, and be able to demonstrate. There are a number of first-rate instructional books on the market (the more current, the better) that will provide this working knowledge.

If you juggle the line-up, or replace the starting goalie, explain to your players about why you made that decision. Don't make them guess. Whether your team is playing at the squirt level, high school, or above, players deserve to know. Asking a child to interpret why they were demoted is just unfair. That's when a lot of wayward notions can come into play, things like, "The coach doesn't like me," or "The coach is playing favorites." That's not cultivating team chemistry.

Finally, some coaches implement a "No parents" rule, meaning any communication has to come from the kids. I understand why, especially in this day and age of helicopter parents. But I don't agree. First, the coach/player dynamic is completely skewed against the child. Second, coaches ought to be able to discuss the rationale behind their decisions with another adult.

Coaches who are unwilling to talk to a parent are shirking their duty. Period. Whether a paid position or volunteer, coaching is a privilege, and carries certain responsibilities. And if your players are high school age or younger, you need to engage the parents.

How do you make your players better? You need to teach.

# # #


One of the best parts of my work, as a coach and columnist, is being able to help out parents, coaches, and their goalies. Here's a recent letter that depicts a classic dilemma for many goalie parents.

The letter: My 11-year-old son is a strong AAA goalie on a mediocre team. He averages approximately 20-25 shots a game, and over 30 shots when he plays against the two top teams. He is currently a difference maker in his games but they tend to lose more than win and can’t really compete with top teams in the area. Lately he has been receiving a lot of serious interest from these top teams who think he could be the missing piece to their already power house organizations. These teams are claiming he will develop into a better goaltender through practice, training and competing against the other top-level teams. However, these teams don't allow many shots in a game as they are so structured defensively. My question is, should I leave him where he is or take him to one of these top teams? Where will he develop the most?

My reply: This is a great question. Your son is lucky that you're advocating on his behalf. The answer, though, is complicated. Many teams just want a better goalie because they want to win, and aren't genuinely concerned about goalie "development." I'm not saying that's the case here, but you want to be aware of the possibility. Getting more shots in a game is a good thing, provided your son isn't getting discouraged. Here are a few things to consider:

1) What is the quality of practice/coaching he's getting now? Will it improve with another team? It's been my experience that select teams don't automatically mean better coaching, though many select teams will bring in goalie coaches, which is a plus.

2) What is the quality of shots he's seeing now? Will he see better shots with a select team? Better shots, not necessarily more, make a better goalie.

3) A better team will arguably provide better shots in practice. And practice is really where ALL players, including the goalies, improve.

Bottom line, it's not just the number of shots in a game. It's the quality of shots in games and practices, and the quality of coaching. I'd take all of those into account before making your decision. Good luck!


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Toughen up!

Trash talk, anyone? Blackhawks goalie Nikolai Khabibulin,
right, has a pregame chat with Lightning goalie Sean
Burke a few years back at the St. Pete Times Forum.
Hi gang,

Apologies for the delay in getting a new post up. Shoveling eight feet of snow will definitely throw a wrench into the weekly schedule. The following is one of my more "controversial" columns, because it really ticked off a colleague. And I guess that's the point of the column.

It wasn't my intention to upset or needle anyone. Honest. Instead, the idea of the column was to explain how, after a lifetime of playing between the pipes, I've learned to ignore trash talk. Usually, anyway. We all have bad days when the wrong comment sets us off. But, for the most part, I let trash talk slide off me like I was Teflon. Because, in hockey, trash talk is part of the game. At almost every level. If you let it get the better of you, your oponents get an advantage. And I wasn't going to give them that satisfaction.


Toughen up – Goalies need to develop a thick skin

During the holiday break, I found myself in the midst of a fun little Facebook exchange that somehow went off the rails. Well, I thought it was fun. Apparently, the sometimes colleague I was bantering with – I'll call him Barney, to protect the guilty and innocent alike – didn't take kindly to my comments.

So I'll let you decide (not that there's any "right" or "wrong"). A second colleague posted a terrific photo of himself and Barney enjoying an outdoor game at Boston's Fenway Park. Here are the pertinent comments, edited only for brevity:

Me: "That's great, guys! I'll be there next time. And tell Barney to get a bigger jersey! Ha ha!"

Barney: "Brion, I asked for a bigger one, but since your ego wasn't going to be attending, they didn't order any XXLs."

Me: "Ho ho, Barney ... I believe they had goalie jerseys. Those should have done the job (maybe)!"

Barney: "They didn't. But hey, this has been a delightful reminder of why we're not actually friends on here anymore. Always glad to get a refresher."

Me: "Barney, how did you ever survive in a hockey locker room? It's all in good fun, my friend. Really ... try not to let your own ego get in the way. You'll laugh more!"

Barney: "Don't you have a cloying column to write about how kids should be nice to each other and respect the game? Been a while since I 'read' one of those."

Me: "Nice try, Barney. Really, you need to lighten up. Good-natured ribbing is a great hockey tradition ... Anyone who actually played the game knows that."

And that was pretty much it; nothing worthy of Don Rickles (or, for younger readers, Bill Burr or Kevin Hart). I hardly gave it a second thought.

The exchange ended with my sometimes colleague sending me a private message, saying I was the exit point of the gastrointestinal tract. I laughed. I've been called worse by better. Plus, I just didn't see the big deal (which, I suppose, was his point). Barney's major complaint was that Facebook was a "public" venue, and that his family and friends could see my posts. Um, OK. My personal approach to Facebook is to avoid taking anything on it too personally, and I didn't find anything remotely hurtful in my comments (or Barney's), and still can't. Sophomoric? Probably. But mean-spirited? Not at all. Maybe that's just me.

But the exchange got me thinking about why I could shrug off Barney's comments, while others might take similar comments personally. That brought me back to his comment, "Don't you have a cloying column to write about how kids should be nice to each other and respect the game?" So that's what I'm doing, since there's a lesson here.

I do advocate respect. Like hard work and accountability, respect is one of the game's founding principles. So is having fun. There's a certain amount of good-natured teasing and trash talk that makes the game so entertaining. Why do we love "Slapshot," hockey's seminal movie? Because playwright Nancy Dowd absolutely nailed the sarcastic and often edgy wordplay between teammates, and opponents.

Now, in some circles, this might be called bullying. I get it. I'm a parent, and my daughter played co-ed hockey through 8th grade. Believe me, she's heard some pretty nasty stuff. Last year, when one young man called my daughter something particularly egregious during a goal-mouth scrum, she yelled: "Go ahead, tell the ref what you called me." It was brilliant. The ref inquired, the kid confessed, and sat for a 5-minute unsportsmanlike penalty. Then he had to explain it to his coach.

For the most part, though, wisecracking repartee is gamesmanship. As long as that banter stays within socially acceptable bounds, I'm perfectly fine with it. There's a big difference between bullying and agitating.

What's more, goalies have to deal with it. Opponents will try to get under your skin any way they can, and that part of the game isn't going away. They might bump you, snow you, or say nasty things about you. This happens to every player, and it happens in almost every sporting competition (including such "gentlemanly" pursuits as golf and tennis).

Take NFL cornerbacks, those tough-but-undersized defenders with oversized egos compressed into smaller frames. Trash talk is their stock in trade. It might unnerve rookies or untested players, but the response I really enjoy seeing is when a veteran receiver simply smiles at them.

That's a goalie's best option, too. Laugh it off. It's not always easy, and I'm not suggesting it comes naturally. You might have to work at developing that bulletproof veneer. But it's your best defense. When an opponent gets in your grill, and starts woofing, just smile, and remind him (or her) that you're not going anywhere. You can't go crying to your teammates, your coaches, or your parents. You need to be tough. Mentally tough.

Sports psychologist Saul Miller also talks about being emotionally tough. With a position as demanding as goaltending, "you either love the challenge, or fear the challenge," says Miller. Opponents will prey on those fears, using trash talk to drive an emotional wedge between you and the task at hand. Ignore them, so you can focus on stopping the puck.

Of course, you can always chirp back, but you better be ready to back it up. I personally believe it's in a goalie's best interests to keep trash talk to a minimum, since our job is tough enough. The last thing a goalie needs to do is start yapping at other players, especially in a game. It's the quickest way I know of to get a puck fired at your melon.

I recall an opposing goalie in high school, from a top-ranked team, making disparaging remarks about my gear during warm-ups (there was nothing wrong with my pads, but they admittedly weren't the latest and greatest). I told him to come talk to me afterward. But my teammates heard him, and got fired up. Our squad – which wasn't very good that year – battled to a 2-2 tie, knocking Mr. Wise Guy and his team out of first place. I'll never forget it, because the guy didn’t have anything to say after the game. Not … one … word.

Neither did I, as much as I wanted to, other than "nice game" in the handshake line. That's the respect part of the game. We stole a point, and I was happy with that. But my teammates were happy to taunt me afterward, reminding me of the two shots that hit the posts, and another bound for an open net that my defense blocked.

I laughed along with them. They were right. It was a game we had no right being in, but we had Lady Luck on our side. I told my teammates it was karma, and the hockey gods were scolding a derisive opponent. They told me I was full of it, and they were right. That year, like I said, was a long one, with few highlights. But it made me tough, and taught me to laugh at myself. That's served me well, not only as a hockey player but also in life, as a coach, a journalist, and even as a parent.

Hope that doesn't sound too cloying.


Thursday, January 22, 2015

You team jersey, and what it really represents

Whether you win a title or not, always
take pride in the jersey you wear.
Hi gang,

This month's column was inspired by an incident with my younger daughter,and it features an interesting back story. Brynne plays for a co-operative hockey team hosted by a neighboring school district. What makes that arrangement particularly compelling is that the host school -- Masconomet -- is the archrival of our district in most sports. "Beat Masco" is a common battle cry in the halls of Hamilton-Wenham Regional High School.

But in girls hockey, girls from Masconomet, Hamilton-Wenham, Newburyport, Georgetown, Amesbury and Triton all join hands to form a single team under the red & white colors of the Chieftains. And the jersey these girls wear represent this impressive collection of individuals. As a result, that jersey is a vitally important symbol, a symbol that unifies six school districts and 13 communities. Pretty impressive, and something I hope the girls always keep in mind every time they hit the ice.


You team jersey, and what it really represents

Sometimes I really feel sorry for my hockey-playing daughter, Brynne, because she has to deal with me. I'm the poster child (grown-up?) for Old School, and that goes for every aspect of the game. I believe in sportsmanship – "Yes, act like you've been there before." – and respecting the game, your opponents, your teammates, and your uniform. Just the other day, I got upset because my daughter left her game jerseys on the basement floor. That's a big no-no in my book.

At the risk of getting all crusty on my daughter (I promise, there were no tall tales of "hiking 10 miles to and from school, uphill both ways"), I told her that a game jersey is something you take care of, because it's more than just a jersey. It's a symbol. It represents the ideal that you've "earned" your place on a team, instead of just a uniform that you got because your mom and I shelled out the coin to get you placed on a team.

This means a great deal to me. In New Jersey in the late 1960 and early 1970s, there weren't enough rinks to accommodate the demand. That meant most league teams had tryouts. And kids got cut. Period. There were no apologies, no lengthy explanations. It was pure hockey Darwinism. You went to the try out, played, and then waited for the teams to get posted. If you didn’t make it, tough. Try harder next time. But if you did make a team, that jersey represented the effort, and the accomplishment.

I'm not sure that kids who are oblivious to the cost of the game – from the gear to the ice time – have a same appreciation for their jerseys. Now that I'm a parent, I feel the same as most parents. I want to provide for my kids. I want Brynne to have good equipment, not only to protect her, but also to help her get the most of whatever abilities she brings to the game. Good equipment does make a difference. While there's no substitute for god-given talent and a determined work ethic, the right gear helps. And most parents who love their kids, and love the game, are happy to spend the money needed to outfit our players adequately.

So this month, when we see lots of youngsters coming to the rink with the shiny new equipment that Santa brought, I'd like to ask parents a favor. Tell your kids to take care of their stuff. All of it. Require them to carry their own bag, and make them responsible for everything in that bag. This cultivates ownership, and ownership is a critical component of hockey. In hockey terms, "ownership" translates to accountability. That's one of the bedrock principles of the game. Don't make excuses, and don't point fingers. Be accountable.

Second is the literal definition of ownership. I had to buy my own gear. That was the deal I made with my mom (she paid for the leagues, not to mention playing taxi driver to all my practices and games). When you have a little sweat equity invested in your jersey and your equipment, you're more likely to care for them. Every player should take care of his or her own equipment. This is not mom and dad's responsibility. This is your responsibility. Air out your gloves and skates (removing the footbeds to prevent the rivets from rusting out). Hang up your game jerseys. Always.

The same goes for a goaltender's gear. Maybe even more so. For starters, goalies have more equipment. But it's also critical to remember that our ability to stop the puck relies on our gear working correctly. If a particular piece of equipment is faulty, because it's either worn out, doesn't fit correctly, or is put on the wrong way, it will affect your game. I love the old expression, "A good craftsmen never blames his tools." But a good craftsmen also knows the right tools make a difference. He knows how to use them, and makes sure his tools are in good working order.

Goalies, even young goalies, should inspect their gear on a regular basis. Make sure the snaps and buckles aren't broken (or missing), that all padding is in place, all the screws are snug, and the laces are in good shape (if they're frayed, replace them before they break). If you lose a screw on a toe bridge, the leg pad can pull away from the skate, and you can lose control of the pad. Same goes for a toe lace. With today's rotating leg pads, the toe lace (or strap) keeps the pad centered on a goalie's leg, which is critical for both safety and performance.

Here's another reason why goaltenders (young and old) need to be mindful of their gear – if the equipment doesn’t fit correctly because straps and laces aren't maintained properly, a goalie risks injury. The obvious example that jumps to mind is the knee cradle of the leg pads. These days, with the emphasis on the butterfly style, it's critical that the knee is secured in the pad's knee cradle. If the elastic is worn out, or the Velcro doesn't hold, the knee can slip out of the cradle and slam into the ice. Painful at best, a potential injury at worse.

This basic caveat also holds true for body armor like chest protectors, knee/thigh protectors, pants, masks and neck danglers. A loose or lost screw on a goalie mask can leave the cage dangling and your face unprotected (I've seen this happen firsthand). If a padding pocket is torn, Murphy's Law dictates that's exactly where the next shot will hit you. What's worse, it would be an injury that was entirely preventable if the goaltender just took a few extra minutes to properly inspect his or her gear, and got it repaired beforehand.

Granted, many veteran goalies are gear geeks, but that's a good thing. We're always looking to get an edge, and we know that equipment plays a part in that. It's not that we just like the new gear; we also enjoy taking care of it. It's part of our routine, and makes us feel vested in the position (part of that classic "us against the world" mindset).

Here are a few additional tips. Again, unless your child is very young, encourage them to take the time to learn how to put the gear on themselves, from skates to helmets. I understand this takes a little extra effort, but trust me, you'll be glad in the long run. And they can practice while watching whatever game happens to be on TV. What could be easier?

Buy your child a skate stone, and show them how to use it to remove burrs from their skate blades (a common problem for goalies, who often smack their skate blades against the posts). Nurture that sense of pride that a good craftsmen has in maintaining his tools. Make sure your young goaltender keeps a spare set of laces, and a replacement screw set, in a secure pocket of his or her goalie bag.

And don't ever – ever! – allow your child to leave his or her jersey on the basement floor.