For hockey players, variety is the spice of the off-season

Find something else to do this summer besides hockey!

Hi gang,

Just last night, I was watching a great special on youth sports, and it was driving home the point of how important it is to be a multi-sport athlete. The show featured a number of athletes from a variety of sports, including the NHL's Johnny Gaudreau and Nate McKinnon. And all of them had essentially the same message: Playing many sports makes you a better athlete.

So stop listening to all those money-grabbing "elite" sports programs who insist that you'll "fall behind" if you're not playing hockey 24/7, year round. It's a marketing ploy, plain and simple. Here's my Goalie Guru column on the topic. Let me know what you think! And don't forget to get outside!

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 Variety is the spice of the off-season for hockey players

When my editor suggested a training-related column for our annual training issue, I immediately thought of the myriad workout programs that have been developed in the past dozen years that are designed to make you the best goaltender your God-given talents will allow. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like going in a different direction. After all, it's the June issue. And June, unless you're playing in the Stanley Cup finals, is not exactly hockey season.

Now, to be completely up front, I'm not opposed to playing year round. There's an old adage in sports that "champions are made in the off-season." There's a great deal of truth to that saying, provided people don't lose proper perspective. It's important to note, the adage doesn't say anything about playing the same sport 52 weeks a year.

Proponents of sports specialization have taken advantage of that adage, twisting its message to imply that a full-year commitment ought to be a requirement for the serious athlete. In doing so, they've duped thousands of parents who feel like they're doing their little hockey player a disservice if they don't provide year-round instruction and training.

(Full disclosure: I, as a coach with a goalie instruction outfit, recognize that I can potentially be seen as "part of the problem." But at Stop It Goaltending, we actively encourage kids to pursue different activities to complement their goalie training. That's a big difference, to my way of thinking.)

This has been a hot topic lately. Houston Texan defensive end J.J. Watt, an all-world talent, recently took to Twitter to voice his concerns about playing a single sport full-time. Watt, who grew up playing hockey (Can you imagine what a power forward that guy would be?!), was remarkably candid in his criticism of specialization. In a Tweet from early March, Watt wrote: "If someone encourages your child to specialize in a single sport, that person generally does not have your child's best interests in mind."

I agree. I also believe there's far more to Watt's simple statement than appears on the surface. There is an entire youth sports industry – and it continues to grow – that is banking on parents believing that the only way their child will reach the pinnacle of their sport is to have little Jane or Johnny play that sport over and over and over again.

Those parents ought to consider this telling statistic: Of all the athletes selected in the 2016 NFL Draft, nearly 90 percent of them were multi-sport athletes in high school, according to TrackingFootball.com, a website that compiles multi-sport participation data on high school and college football players. Watt played four different sports in high school. Arizona Cardinals All-Pro defensive end Calais Campbell told the web-based training site STACK why playing numerous sports helped him become a better football player.

"Playing multiple sports 100 percent made me a better athlete," Campbell said. "When you play different sports, you're forced to do different things. I learned quick-twitch stuff from basketball. Track and field, I learned about my stride, my jumping, my hip thrust. I actually even wrestled for a while, and that helped me learn leverage and momentum. It all transfers over and develops different muscle groups."

My guess is that Campbell also enjoyed switching things up. When I was in high school, I loved the dissimilarities between being a soccer midfielder, where I ran all day between my attacking and defensive responsibilities, being a hockey goaltender, where I was far more confined but had a very important role, and being a third baseman for the baseball team, which I found was the ideal blend of cerebral and physical challenges.

Only in hindsight did I really stop to think how each sport benefited the others. For me, the variety is what I enjoyed most.

I've lost count of the number of parents I've talked to who would bemoan that their sons and daughters weren't all that motivated to play during the summer. These are the same parents who have their kids attending skating clinics (on and off ice), shooting clinics, and stickhandling clinics almost non-stop. I haven't found a polite way to say: "Can't you hear yourself? No wonder your kid wants a break."

Except for the very rare instance, kids crave diversity. Can you imagine a math whiz going to school and taking nothing but algebra, geometry, calculus, trigonometry, etcetera? Really? Of course not. We want our children to be well rounded academically. Well, the same holds true for athletic pursuits. Variety is a good thing, not only from the perspective of development, but also to prevent overuse injuries.

The reality is that sports specialization is nothing new. I remember writing about it as a cub reporter in the spring of 1983. Yup, 34 years ago. Things have only gotten worse since then, and it's all driven by one factor: The Almighty Dollar. There is a ton of money to be made in the sports development landscape.

Those folks aren't going to make much money by telling their kids to "just go ride your mountain bike." But I'm telling you, that's exactly what you, as a parent, ought to do. Let the kids play.

Here's my chief concern. Advances in goalie training have created an entire generation of robotic goaltenders. They're strong and quick and technically proficient, but they're not necessarily better athletes. I compare them to a mountain biker on a familiar slice of technical singletrack trail. When that mountain biker knows every twist, turn, and obstacle on the trail, he can anticipate what's coming and rip a pretty clean line. But put the same cyclist on a trail he's never seen before, and he'll be more tentative, more cautious, slower.

A hockey game is much more like that unknown ribbon of technical singletrack. Out of necessity, many of the drills we develop and employ during goalie clinics and camps mirror the well-known trail. We want to build muscle memory. But coaches also need to recognize when goalies start performing "to the drill," instead of simply reacting. That's why, at Stop It, we always try to end each session with "game time."

The beauty of game time is that it's organic, and unpredictable. Our games are design to make the goalies employ what they've just learned, but also to improvise. That's when you find out who your competitors are. It's also when you discover who the better athletes are.

Over time, I believe kids gradually discover the benefits of being a multi-sport athlete (though they may not understand it in the moment). Their movements become more fluid, more natural. In a very subtle sense, they become more confident, which allows them to be more patient, and let the game come to them.

So get out of the rink. Expand your horizons, and enjoy other sports. Ride your bike, surf, play tennis, soccer, lacrosse, basketball, volleyball, baseball. Anything other than hockey. Have fun. Laugh. You'll be a better goaltender.

FINIS

Bringing the goalie coach on board for team practices

Goalies need a coach who understands the position,
and how the position fits into the team concepts.

Hi gang,

My annual mid-season campaign to encourage hockey teams -- at every level -- to incorporate a goalie coach into their team practices. This is such an important part of overall team success, yet is ignored time and time again. The hesitancy to have a goalie coach work with the head coach and staff absolute mystifies me. Winning programs do this, which is one of the reasons they're winning programs.

Let me know what you think ...

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Bringing the goalie coach on board for team practices

So, coaches, we're now a full month (or more) into the season. How's your goaltending situation holding up? I hope it's faring better than I have.

This has been a particularly challenging season so far for me, as I recover from November surgery to fix a pair of herniated discs and arthritis-induced nerve damage (my rough-and-tumble lifestyle, and 45 years of playing goal, finally caught up to me). I haven't been on the ice since early August. Frankly, it's driving me nuts.

But the forced time off allowed me to reassess the position, and the role of the goalie coach. I've watched numerous games, from the World Cup of Hockey to the NHL to college tilts to U-19 fall girls hockey. This past weekend, my daughter's high school squad launched its season with a tournament at a local prep school. Brynne's team had mixed results, winning once and losing twice. They gave up 15 goals in those three games, which is not a recipe for success.

My chief frustration, following the tournament, was that I couldn't get on the ice to work with the team's young goaltender (she's a sophomore, having picked up the position just two years ago). More importantly, I knew I couldn't work with the team. Because not all 15 goals were on the goalie.

Sitting in the stands reinforced my firm belief that a goalie coach needs to be an integral part of a team's coaching staff. I saw numerous mistakes, made by the goalie, made by the defense, and made by the forwards (like changing lines during an opponent's odd-man rush). Last year, as a volunteer coach, I could plan with the staff to incorporate certain drills to help improve defensive zone play in general, and more specifically make sure the goalie and positional players were working together.

But since I'm officially "on the shelf," I can't even make suggestions. That's just reality of a coach who isn't on the ice. And I don't mean to suggest I have all the answers. I don't. What I mean is that there's one less voice – and the goalie's perspective – being taken into account.

I'm one of those goalie coaches who doesn't mind pulling back the curtain on that man in the corner. Goalie coaching can be very, very intricate, depending on the level your team is playing at, but it's not quantum physics. Seriously. The basics are, well, pretty basic. Anytime a goalie "expert" tries to convince you that it's rocket science, you should see a giant red flag.

This is one of my annual appeals to coaches. Please, please don't treat goalie coaches like some weird appendage to your staff. Don't separate them; bring them on board. Don't treat goalie coaches like the doctor you send your starting netminder to in order to repair a high ankle sprain or knee injury. Because, let's be honest, you don't care if you ever actually see that doctor. You just want the doctor to fix your goalie, and get him (or her) back between the pipes as soon as safely possible.

But the really, really good doctors are involved. Over the past two months, I emailed my surgeon – Dr. Russell Brummett of Concord Orthopaedics in New Hampshire – regular updates about my progress. Being a writer, I provided more detail than he probably cared for. But he always replied, always offering words of encouragement. Once, when five days went by without any exchange, he reached out to me. Just to check in. How cool is that?

Not all surgeons are like Dr. Brummett, unfortunately. Many (probably most) simply move on to the next patient. Don't get me wrong. They want to know whether the surgery was a success. They'll dutifully follow up – at one month, three months, one year – to make sure things are A-OK. Basically, they're happy if you're happy.

The better analogy, to my way of thinking, is a good family counselor. A good counselor is far more vested in your development, and the family's development, day in and day out, individually and as a group. A good counselor keeps close tabs on your progress and, perhaps more importantly, the times you slip up. A good counselor understands the value of communication. A good counselor is a confidante a well as a coach, someone who understands that integrating a group of people into a single entity can be a complex and wonderful thing. Much like a hockey team.

Most of my colleagues at Stop It Goaltending work with college, high school, and junior programs. One of the recurring themes that crops up is the inability of those coaches without goaltending experience to understand the many facets of the position, and the number of things that can lead to a scoring opportunity. A common question is, "How did that goal go it?" Sometimes the answer is simple. Sometimes it's purely on the goalie. They're human. They make errors.

But oftentimes the breakdowns that lead to a quality scoring chance happen two, three, or more moves beforehand. A bad line change, a bad read, a bad gap, a missed assignment. As goalies, we've spent years watching the game come to us. In other words, we see things. When we see a mistake, we like to have it addressed. It's often more than "just stopping the puck." That integrated approach makes for better team defense.

Here's another reason for having a goalie coach on board that's worth repeating. Better goalie drills make for better shooters. Every summer, the college and junior shooters who work our Stop It camps always remark how learning more about goaltending makes them better scorers. There's another win/win.

So my plea is that coaches, and programs, do more to bring goalie coaches into the fold, sharing ice and ideas. Yes, I understand that often comes with an added expense (more than individual sessions at a mini-ice). Talk to your boosters. Talk to your athletic director, and your parents. Would you rather have fancy new warm-up suits, or an airtight defense? Having a goalie coach on staff won't do much for the former, but can get you much closer to the latter.

Just remember: Defense wins championships.

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Postscript: Here's a special shout out to Minnesota's Tony Bruns, a senior and four-year starter at Morris/Benson High. Bruns tallied 98 saves in a 12-0 loss to Litchfield/Dassel-Cokato two tdays after Thanksgiving. That's 110 shots altogether! The 98 saves set a state and national record (breaking Michigan's Jamey Ramsey's national mark from 1987 by 14 saves).

Of course, that wasn’t enough for some "media" clowns who don't understand hockey, or goaltending. One bonehead panelist on ESPN's "Around the Horn" actually disparaged Bruns's effort, saying it amounted to "only" a .890 save percentage. What this goofball didn't mention is that all those shots came in a 51-minute game (17-minute periods). That's more than two shots per minute, not to mention all the work that goes into preparing for each shot. It was, to be kind, a shooting gallery.

Dalen Jones, a former youth hockey goaltender, was one of the official scorekeepers counting shots. "The guy played out of his mind," Jones told Minnesota's StarTribune. "It was ridiculous. I was getting sore just watching him."

Me too. Bruns ought to be proud of his accomplishment, no matter the final score.

FINIS

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 ...

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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.

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MAIL BAG

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!

FINIS

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.

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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.

FINIS

The hidden dangers of overt practice celebrations

If you want to celebrate a goal in a game,
that's fine! Go ahead. But think twice about
doing it in practice, over and over again.

Hi gang,

The second day of November brought the season's first snowfall. Crazy! Fortunately, it didn't last long, and by today  the white stuff had melted away. But it got me thinking about this column. A good snowfall every now and then is fun. But after a while, if the snow continues to fall, the accumulation can wear on you (especially if you're the one doing all the shoveling).

Similarly, scoring a goal and celebrating, spontaneously, is one of the great joys of hockey. But when it's done repeatedly, or starts to become orchestrated, those celebrations lose their luster. When you celebrate every goal in practice like you've just scored the overtime winner in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup, it can have the same effect as that driving snowstorm. When you find a ton of snow dumped on your driveway day after day after day, you can suddenly lose your appreciation for all that fine white fluff.

That's how your goaltender feels when you and your teammates go overboard with each puck that crosses the goal line. It's tiresome. Worse, it can drive some kids from the position, and from the game. And that's a shame ...

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The hidden dangers of overt practice celebrations

The father's voice on the other end of the line was filled with frustration. For five minutes, I just let him unload, and here's what he told me. His son was a 10-year-old goalie who was rostered on the town's Squirt 2 team. Dad had no problem with the level of team his son was put on, but was troubled by the ongoing antics of a few teammates. To be precise, the young boy's father said several of his son's teammates were celebrating every goal in practice. Not just a fist pump or a shout, but a full-blown celebration straight out of the NHL Network's highlight reels. And the young goaltender was fed up with it. He didn't want to change in the locker room. He didn't want to hang out with his teammates. In fact, said his father, the young boy "didn't feel like part of the team." He was even thinking of quitting.

I couldn't blame the youngster for feeling discouraged, and despondent. It's one thing to be treated like a real-life pincushion during practice (based on the number of shots goalies face in most youth hockey practices, though I'm always hopeful that the tide is turning). It's another thing to be constantly humiliated because the team has a couple of self-centered goofballs partying like they've just won Lord Stanley's cup after every practice tally. It's adding insult to injury. Yet, for some odd reason, this behavior rarely warrants a second look from the coach.

This is one of the great laments of goalie parents. Imagine if your child was a Little League pitcher, and his (or her) teammates started jumping up and down and woofing every time they got a hit. In practice. Or how about if your child was batting, and the pitcher went into an orchestrated touchdown dance every time he got an out. Would you stand for that? I hope not. I know I wouldn't.

Yet, for some reason, this happens all the time in youth hockey practices, and few parents bat an eye. Even if they do notice it, everyone tends to get chalk up to "kids being kids." Everyone, that is, except the parents of the goalies. These ill-advised celebrations have a cumulative effect, and the end result is rarely good. Coaches need to do a better job policing this behavior, pure and simple.

There's an insidiousness to this behavior that coaches need to acknowledge, and should strive to recognize. It's fairly easy to shrug off the occasional celebration, but repetitive partying can wear a young goaltender down, quickly sucking the fun out of the game and taking the child's confidence with it. And once a child's confidence is gone, it's exceedingly difficult to recapture. Remember, these are young kids. An older goalkeeper will usually have the presence, and confidence, to tell his (or her) teammates to knock it off. But a child at the Pee Wee or Squirt level (or younger) may not. And that's where a coach needs to step in and stand up for he netminder.

Now, before you think I've gone soft, I want to be really clear on one point. I'm not saying that the kids who are celebrating are being intentionally mean-spirited, and I'm not saying that the coaches who allow this behavior are cold-hearted. A much more likely explanation is that both groups are simply ignorant. They don't think about the impact that excessive celebrating has on the young netminder. But ignorance is not an excuse.

Furthermore, whether they're cognizant of it or not, these kids are engaged in demeaning behavior. The idea is to embarrass someone else. Want proof? You rarely, if ever, see these demonstrations after a kid puts the puck past a plastic shooter tutor. It just doesn't happen. Why? Because the shooter tutor is an inanimate object. It offers no response. But a young kid with pads on is a perfect target.

There's a reason why the NFL penalizes excessive celebrations. It's unsportsmanlike, because it's showing up your opponent. It's another form of piling on. When a team in a youth hockey game goes up by four or five goals, most youth hockey coaches (though certainly not all) will employ a three-pass rule, or will switch up their line-ups, to avoid intentionally running up the score. Of course, there's the scoreboard serving as a big, bright reminder. In practice, these same coaches tend to turn a blind eye to these post-goal histrionics, shrugging it off with an "it's all in good fun" wave. But it's not fun for the goalie. I assure you.

This is a classic example of kids emulating their heroes, without the requisite maturity to understand when the behavior is appropriate, and when it isn't. They don't grasp the idea that every "celly" undermines the confidence of one of their most important teammates, the goaltender. I've actually had kids tell me they're just practicing their celebrations. Really? I mean, really? I tell them to keep practicing their shot instead.

Here's what I've done in the past to deal with these young chuckleheads. I usually start with a warning, explaining to them why over-the-top celebrations are both unnecessary and insulting. Most kids understand. Some don't (or they understand, but don't feel they need to change their behavior). For this latter group, I take a blunt, decisive approach. I tell them that they will suit up as goalie for the next practice.

You should hear the howls of protest. From the kids, and from their parents. Which always makes me laugh, because I suspect that, deep down, they know exactly how embarrassed they'd feel if they had to endure the same treatment. That's the lesson. Give them a taste of their own medicine.

Think about it another way. How about if the goalies hooted and hollered after every single save? Seems silly, right? So why should it be any different for the players shooting the pucks? The answer, obviously, is that it shouldn't.

One of the most difficult tasks for a goalie coach/advisor is to balance the often-competing concerns between parents and coaches. So I told this particularly parent to address his concerns, and the concerns of his son, with the team's coach. Oftentimes, that's all it takes. As mentioned earlier, this behavior will often go unnoticed only because the coach (or coaches) already has a dozens of issues he's thinking about, from power plays to breakouts to team defense.

However, if the coach dismisses these concerns, it's an indication that there's a disconnect. Don't be afraid to go to the program's board, as a concerned parent. You have that right. I never want to see goaltenders pampered. In fact, it's important to learn how to deal with these shenanigans, because I guarantee that other teams will employ them to unsettle your netminder. On the other hand, teammates ought to be building one another up, not tearing each other down. After all, that is the very essence of "team," and one of the most important lessons that hockey ought to be teaching our sons and daughters.

FINIS

Commitment is not a four-letter word

Commitment isn't easy, especially after three overtimes.

Hi gang,

Don't blink! Summer is already half over, and August is beckoning! I swear, the older I get, the faster the seasons seem to race by. But it's often during the dog days of summer when I learn just how committed a goaltender is to his or her craft. 

I'm not talking about attending camp every day, facing a million shots. I'm talking about the little things -- eating right, getting proper rest, staying fit and flexible -- when it would be all too easy to fall into bad habits.

In reality, that goes for all hockey players, and all athletes. The following column, orginally written fro the New England Hockey Journal, addresses team athletes specifically. I hope it serves as a reminder that you're not only responsible for your yourself, but to your teammates. Let me know what you think.

##

Commitment is not a four-letter word

Every year, it seems I write at least one column that I know is going to set people off. So this year, I'm being clever, and switching columns with April "The Hockey Mom" Bowling for my annual grenade launch.

All right, that's only partially true. The real reason I asked for this forum is because the topic I want to discuss isn't just about goalies, goalie parents, goalie gear, or goalie coaches. It's about hockey players. All of them. And all their parents. It's about commitment.

I live in a small town north of Boston where the high school nickname is the Generals, after one of our more famous residents, Gen. George Patton Jr. "Old Blood and Guts" was a complex man, a bold wartime leader who could be equal parts condescending, arrogant, brilliant, and loyal. He could be quick to criticize, and quick to praise. He may not be the perfect school mascot, but his ability to inspire, and no doubt his fame, make him a solid choice. In one corner of the high school gym, up by the rafters, is a banner that reads: "General Pride – Tenacity, Spirit, Commitment." That pretty much sums up Patton. But youth sports? I have my doubts.

It's that last quality that really concerns me. Commitment. Part of me can't resist laughing, acknowledging the irony. As a guy who didn't get married until his mid-30s, I was usually on the wrong side of conversations regarding commitment. But, as I always told my mom, I was just waiting for the right woman. Having just celebrated 19 years of wedded bliss with my wife (23 years together!), I've learned a thing or two about commitment.

Which brings me back to youth sports. I've witnessed an erosion of commitment over the past two decades, and I place responsibility for that phenomenon largely on parents. Not every parent, mind you. But far too many parents allow their children to pursue as many pastimes as they'd like, oblivious of schedules. Admittedly, sometimes conflicts are unavoidable, given the lead times when you have to sign up. Other times, however, parents just take a shotgun approach. It apparently doesn't matter how many conflicts are created, or what effect those conflicts might have on the kid's team, as long as Little Johnny or Little Jennifer get what they want. Or what Mom and Dad want (say, skiing every other weekend).

So I'm going to ask you – the parents – to consider something radical. For once, stop and consider the other kids on the team before thinking about your own child. Why? Because it's a "team" sport, that's why. If we should be teaching our kids anything, it's that the team in more important than the individual (a basic tenet of hockey, by the way).

My own experience was pretty straightforward. Mom, who raised six kids, supported any pastime we wanted to pursue, with two crucial caveats. First, we had to keep our grades up. If our schoolwork suffered, the pastimes would go away until we set things right. Priorities. Second, if we made the decision to join a team, we honored that commitment. For me, that meant missing family ski vacations in high school so I could make hockey practices.

Now, the obvious dilemma is the question of "When?" When do you start requiring kids to make a more serious commitment. We want youngsters to have a broad array of experiences, so they can learn what they like best, what motivates them. However, reinforcing this approach during developmental years creates a culture where kids (and their parents) accept that it's fine and dandy to show up whenever they please. I draw the line at middle school travel teams. It's a perfect time of transition, for academics and for athletics.

I've attended countless practices – both on the soccer pitch and at the hockey rink – when only a handful players show up. Games are problematic too, but missing practice is a major stumbling block. The absent kids not only fall behind in getting fit and learning the requisite skills, but they also lag in developing a sense of teamwork. That becomes painfully obvious during games. How many of you have seen everyone suddenly show up for a playoff game, only to realize that the kids don't know how to play together?

Here's another example. This past spring, I was an assistant coach for my daughter's 8th grade soccer team. We had 18 players, 11 of which could be on the field at any time. Seven extra players seemed like a lot, but manageable. During practices, we were lucky to get half the squad, and game-day attendance was a constant question mark.

So, halfway through the season, I wrote a lengthy email to the parents, detailing our shortcomings. I finished with the following: "In short, soccer isn't a game you can 'dabble' in, especially now that the girls are on the big fields. Players who aren't in shape, or don't know where to be, or can't control the ball, or make simple passes, are easily exposed. And I think that's exactly what's happened to us. Former Patriots coach Bill Parcells once said 'You are what your record says you are.' I think our 0-3-1 record is indicative of where we're at. I'd really like to see the [team] turn it around for the second half. But that requires everyone to be all in."

Not one parent replied. At least not directly to me. Instead, one mom wrote to the head coach. That parent's daughter was a quiet girl who wasn't a gifted athlete, but worked hard. When she was at practice. Which, unfortunately, wasn't often.
Here's what her mom said: "Many kids do pull on their boots in the spring for the pure joy and sole pursuit of dabbling in the beautiful game. The fast, slow, fit, unfit, tactical and tactically challenged, bring to the field the athletic gifts they have and are willing to share. Increasingly uniquely with no try outs, [the town program] offers all comers the opportunity to continue the experience of team sport. Some choose not to sit, but go out and join their efforts with others, not to win but to take part. And I am proud of all those youthful dabblers who make our town such a joyful and colorful celebration of sport every weekend."

That sounds like a really sweet sentiment, on the surface. I see it differently. I would like that mom to explain to her daughter's teammates why they had no substitutes (including her daughter) during a Saturday game played in 95-degree heat. Not exactly "a joyful and colorful celebration of sport."

But that's exactly what can happen with this type of "my kid first" parenting style. What was accomplished by this child missing half of her team's practices and games? Certainly not an "opportunity to continue the experience of team sport."

Of course, this parent probably never gave it a thought. When parents lack any awareness of how their actions affect their child's teammates, they can drag down the entire team. That's wrong.

If you're still with me, I'll emphasize that I believe the hockey season is too long. No question. Many programs and leagues are run by people more concerned about profits than our kids. I understand that, and fully support my local program's policy of encouraging kids to play a fall sport (for the last three years, my daughter's first hockey game was scheduled before her first soccer game; how crazy is that?).
Once the fall season ends, though, I ask my players to focus on the winter sport they signed up for. Make practices, and make the games. If you can't make practices, don't be surprised if your playing time on game day gets trimmed. Because playing time isn't something that's guaranteed just because you show up, or something Mommy and Daddy pay for. It's something you have to earn.

FINIS

Two shining examples of goaltenders we can admire

Quinnipiac's Eric Hatzell proved hard work pays off.

Hi gang,

Now that the curtain has come down on college hockey's Frozen Four - congrats to Colin Stevens and his Union College Dutchmen for their first NCAA crown! - I've got some time to catch up on my blog. Though the following column was actually written last spring for the May, 2013 issue of the New England Hockey Journal, I think the lessons it addresses are timeless. Hope you agree. As always, let me know what you think ...

##

Two shining examples of goaltenders we can admire

When the ridiculously long "regular" youth hockey season finally comes to a close, I always find a few leftover topics that I meant to address but never got to, for one reason or another. Here are two that tie together nicely.

First, I wanted to follow up on the remarkably selfish and immature exit of the high school goalie in Farmington, Minnesota. Remember this clown? He's the guy who literally threw away a game on Senior Night as his way to exact revenge on his coaching staff, because he wasn't getting enough playing time (The Goalie Guru, March 2013). I can't even bring myself to mention the kid's name, because I don't want him to have any more publicity.

What I will do, however, is celebrate the actions of another high school senior, Matthew Nemia.

According to Mike Geragosian, owner of All-American Goaltending and the goalie coach for Boston University, young Mr. Nemia was a senior at Wellesley High School in Massachusetts this past season. Though only 5-foot-5, with a slight learning disability (speech), Nemia started the season on fire, with two shutouts in his first two games, including the Raiders 1-0 win over rival Needham, Wellesley's first win against the Rockets in a decade.

But then Nemia "got a little off his miracle game," said Geragosian, and the starting job went to a sophomore (a situation identical to the senior in Farmington, MN). The difference is that Nemia was a model teammate, despite losing his starting spot.

"Interesting how similar situations can be handled very differently," said Frank Nemia, Matt's father, after reading about the Farmington fiasco. "Matt has been nothing less than supportive to the sophomore. He was a true leader and senior as he continued to drive underclassmen to practices and encourage his teammates. He is a solid goalie who is quick, agile, and a smart hockey player and student. Despite his challenges, he developed into a solid student academically who was accepted to all of his colleges, including Roger Williams University, University of Scranton, Loyola Maryland, and Fairfield."

On Senior Night, Nemia's commitment to the team was rewarded, and he got the nod against a strong Framingham club. Nemia held the Flyers scoreless through two periods before eventually dropping a 3-0 decision. But he was able to leave the game, and his high school career, with his head held high.

"There was no doubt that Matt felt similar frustrations with his coaches and the situation, but handled it with class and maturity," said Frank Nemia. "This was a life lesson for Matt. It is where kids and the fun of sports create challenges that they just did not count on. As Matthew ends his high school career, one thing was certain – he grew up through this experience.

"Matt learned you cannot control all the events of your life but can control how you respond to them. He realized the importance of character and dealing with the challenges of life."

We, as hockey coaches, like to talk about the important lessons that this game teaches, lessons that go beyond the ice and the locker room. But those lessons can fall on deaf ears if parents don't reinforce them. As a hockey coach who has seen his fair share of parental interference, and as a father, I have to salute not only Matthew Nemia, but his parents as well, for never losing sight of the big picture. Matt Nemia dealt with a difficult situation with class and maturity. Our sport needs more like him.

Speaking of maturity, and people making a difference, I wanted to give a shout-out to Quinnipiac University goaltender Eric Hartzell. The Minnesota native had a monster senior year for the Bobcats, being named a Hobey Baker finalist while leading Quinnipiac to the Frozen Four and the NCAA championship game.

"Obviously I'm thrilled with the year he's had, helping us win games," said Bobcat coach Rand Pecknold. "But it's been a pleasure on my end to watch him mature as a person, from where he was as a freshman. That's one of the nice things about having a kid for four years.

"Eric Hartzell is the perfect example of what's great about college hockey," said Pecknold. "Because at 21 years old, which is when you have to leave major junior, he was not ready to play pro hockey. At 23 years old now, he's ready to play pro hockey. He just needed a little more time to mature."

I've seen Hartzell's maturation firsthand. At Stop It Goaltending, we worked with him early in his collegiate career. While his talent was undeniable, his work ethic was inconsistent at best. He was a raw gem who needed refinement, but wasn't always inclined to put in the requisite effort. Clearly, he's turned it around at Quinnipiac.

"He's been just an incredible, solid block back there for us to build off of," said Bobcat captain Zach Currie. "We have a lot of skill out in front of him, but his commitment to his game and his practice habits and his focus is next to none. He's obsessed with the little things, and building on getting better each and every day."

Two years ago, I don't know anyone who would have said that Hartzell's practice habits were exceptional. One of the most important lessons that Hartzell has learned is this: The benefits of hard work far outweigh any of the blood, sweat and tears that must be sacrificed in order to improve your game.

"The boys all get along so well together. When we go from play time to work time, it's the same thing. We're all striving for the same goal, so it's fun to be on a team like this," said Hartzell just before the NCAA playoffs. "We know what we have to do every night to be successful. And I think that's why we are so successful. Every guy shows up to the rink and practices every day. They know their roles, and every guy does his job really, really well. And our identity is just an an extremely hard-working team, from start to finish."

Notice that last part, about hard work? There is simply no substitute for it. Regardless of your God-given talents, whatever they may be, you will never, never reap the full benefit of them unless you're willing to put in the work.

Hartzell is a great model. A few summers ago, he showed up out of shape, and didn't last a week. Admittedly, I was among several coaches who wondered if he had the intestinal fortitude to make the commitment to be a great player.

Well, he did, and he is. So I need to tip my hat to Eric Hartzell. Ultimately, each goalie must decide for himself (or herself) whether to buckle down, and take advantage of whatever physical gifts he has and the coaching he gets. Hartzell did just that. And he, and his team, won because of it.

Next month, my suggestions for the best off-ice sports to help you get in shape for the start of next season.

FINIS

Goalies, parents, coaches and the concept of "team"

A loser's salute.

Hi gang,

Well, I managed to let the month of February slip by without a single post. My bad. That's what happens when both cars need major repairs, and a faulty pressure release valve on the hot-water heater floods the basement. Fun, fun, fun. But, since there's no crying in hockey (or home and car ownership, for that matter), it's time to move on.

The story featured in this column is now a year old, but I just had a parent remind me that he watches the accompanying video often, if only to remind himself to maintain perspective when it comes to youth and high school hockey, and his own two children (both goaltenders). This particular column, which originally ran in the New England Hockey Journal, also gave me a chance to call on several outstanding goalie coaches, including Brian Daccord, Joe Bertagna, and Darren Hersh, to get their thoughts on what I felt was an act of supreme selfishness. Let me know what you think ...

##

Goalies, parents, coaches and the concept of "team"

So what are we to make of Austin Krause?

Don't know the name? Good for you. I'm hesitant to even dignify Krause's name with any additional mention, but it's next to impossible to tell this story without identifying the culprit. Just Google "Austin Krause," along with "goalie" and Farmington," and you'll find tales of how young Mr. Krause, a senior at Farmington High School in Minnesota, managed to disgrace himself while becoming something of an Internet sensation.

Here's the short version of Krause's tale. A disgruntled senior who started nine of Farmington's 23 games, Krause was upset about being demoted to backup to – gasp! – a sophomore. A Tweet from Austin obviously proves he knows better than his coaches: "They played this sophomore goalie for the starter, he was terrible, I would try and talk to the coaches about this and tell them I want playing time but they never really listen to me or gave me a chance to show them that I'm a better goalie."

Krause's numbers were decent (492 minutes, 5-4-1, 2.80 GAA, .877 save percentage), but they weren't as good as the sophomore starting ahead of him (548 minutes, 2.42 GAA, .901 save percentage). But instead of working his tail off, and proving he deserved to start, Krause apparently sat and stewed, and carefully plotted revenge.

On Senior Night, with the sophomore goalie out with an injury, Krause got the start against Chaska High. With three minutes left, and Farmington nursing a 2-1 lead, Krause calmly fielded a dump in, intentionally swept the puck into his own net, removed his blocker and flashed his middle finger toward his coaching staff, then ostensibly saluted his own team, and skated off the ice (with the help of friends, who obviously were waiting to open the door). Chaska, went on to win the game, 3-2.

Crazy, right? Not surprisingly, Krause was called into the principal's office and handed a 10-day suspension. Me? I would have forced him to come to school wearing a Chaska sweater and dunce cap, but that would probably violate the poor kid's civil liberties. And if the school system paid for even a dime of the kid's equipment, I'd withhold his diploma until every cent was repaid.

Even more shocking is the number of people who have come to Krause's defense, seeing something oddly noble in his actions. Take Fox 9 producer Doug Erlien, who wrote: "For those of us who had a problem with their high school coach at some point, what Krause did took courage. In no way am I trying to make him a hero here, but Krause took the 'stand in line and be a good soldier,' turned it around and shoved it right back in the face of the entire hockey world, including his team. Good team guy? Not a chance, but a part of me on the inside is standing and applauding and saying ‘'good for you kid, good for you.'"

It gets better. Erlien replied to comments that it was likely, in this day and age, that a prospective employers might search Krause's name, see the story, and immediately round-file his application. "If I were starting a company I'd want more guys like Krause working for me and I'd hire him in a minute. We need more passionate people who aren't afraid to put themselves out there and stand up for what they believe in popular or not."

Good luck with that, Doug. I can just see the first time Krause disagrees with his boss, loses his cool (because, of course, he's always right), and then makes a public display to embarrass not only himself and his company, but all of his company's clients. Yeah, just the guy I'd want on my staff.

There is something very, very rotten at the core of this story. And it starts and ends with Krause. He's a senior in high school, which means he's either 17 or 18. My girls, both teenagers, have known the difference between right and wrong since they were five, so I'm not going to let an 18-year-old off the hook. On the other hand, he's probably been coddled and told how great he is for a long, long time, and that definitely creates a sense of entitlement. I don't pretend to know all the particulars of Krause's home life, but the fact that his father has been banned from youth hockey games for a year speaks volumes.

"I know a coach who likes to say, 'Kids usually don't grow up to be like the neighbor's parents,'" said Joe Bertagna, former Boston Bruins and USA Olympic goaltending coach who runs Bertagna Goaltending. "What this kid did is wrong in so many ways, and I have to believe he has parents at home who have made him feel like a victim all year."

Exactly, said Brian Robinson, a managing director with Stop It Goaltending. "The kid started nine games out of 23 total, and he says the coach never gave him his chance? I can't stand what is happening to this new era of children who are so babied and pampered and given every single thing they want without ever being told no or being properly disciplined when they are in the wrong. I bet this kids parents gave him a pat on the back when he got out of that rink."

We, as goalie coaches, see this type of parental interference all the time. Sometimes they're right. Coaches do mess up, or play favorites. But how you deal with that hardship defines who you are.

"I think we can all agree we understand the kid's frustration as most of us have been involved in a similar situation in one form or another," said Sean Moloney, author of "Modern Goaltending, Modern Game." "His (desire) in this situation is clear, and understandable. This leaves us with the action. Which no matter how many ways I look at it is deplorable, petty, childish, selfish, and unforgivable."

In reality, some kids are never taught to deal with competition. "One of our issues is that kids play their birth year," said Brian Daccord, owner of Stop It Goaltending and a former Bruins goalie coach. "The whole team moves up each year. Therefore they do not have to compete for their spot like they did when levels consisted of two birth years. They get to high school they go from one birth year to four, with no experience or appreciation for competing to make a team. The old system was the way to go."

At the risk of painting with too broad a brush, it is a problem that's becoming all-too pervasive. "The pure selfishness in youth team sports today should not surprise us when we see this event take place," said Darren Hersh of The Goalie Academy. "I hear parents of players telling kids not to pass to teammates, but to keep the puck and to do it themselves. I've seen goalie partners cheer when their goalie teammate gets scored on."

"The selfishness that it takes, which is also encouraged and fueled by parents, seems to be at an all time high," said Hersh. "Not saying that deep down we all have felt jealousy, anger, and envy for our goalie competitors from time to time, but I've seen these emotions perfectly controlled and never revealed. To express those emotions by putting the puck in your own team's net only to make your own extremely selfish feelings known to the entire hockey world is beyond reprehensible.

"What is really disheartening, as a coach of youth hockey, is that the very important lessons that team sports like hockey can teach kids are the very lessons and values that a select group of parents do not know, understand, live, nor teach. Coaches today have to teach these values to both the kids AND to the parents, which is an exhausting undertaking to say the least."

Perhaps the greatest irony is that Krause wore No. 1. It's abundantly clear that Krause only care about one person, himself. His actions proved he was less than a back-up – he's a quitter.

FINIS