Guidelines for age-based goals

Hi gang,

If there's a silly season in youth hockey, it's spring, when every youth hockey organization under the sun -- non-profit and for-profit -- holds tryouts. I'm often asked to help do evaluations during these sessions, to help avoid any suspicion of favoritism among members. And that makes sense.

But what I often think about while sitting in the bleachers, trying to keep warm and jotting down notes, is "What's most important to this organization?" Is it winning? Is it player development? Is it providing a fun environment for everyone? It's obviously a complex question, with many potential answers. To find out what's most important to a particular program, start by figuring out what the organization's goals are. Then you can apply those to the goaltenders in the program. Here are some guidelines that I'd recommend.

Thanks for reading. As always, let me know what you think.
Best, -Brion

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GUIDELINES FOR AGE-BASED GOALS

One of the most difficult aspects of coaching is applying the right approach to each goaltender, at varying age levels. The reality is that not all goalies are created equal. As a result, goalie coaches have to adjust their methods based on a number of factors, including the age of the goalie, their experience, their commitment level, and their talent level.

Good coaches know there's no "one size fits all" approach to coaching. There are so many physical and mental challenges to the position that you need to assess each child (or young man, young woman, or adult) individually.

Of course, that's easier said than done. Even as an experienced coach, I sometimes need to reassess, remind myself to keep the individual in mind, and reboot.

TrueSport (truesport.org) recently ran an excellent article on just this topic, featuring sports psychologist Roberta Kraus. A former competitive collegiate tennis and basketball player who works with athletes ranging from novices to Olympians, Kraus has an impressive resume. She holds a pair of master’s degrees, one in higher education from the University of Northern Colorado and another in sports psychology from the University of Arizona. Her doctorate from the University of Denver is in communications, specializing in its application to individual and team effectiveness.

The following are the highlights from that article, tailored to young goaltenders.

Getting started

Foremost, parents and coaches need to be on the same page in terms of the overall objectives. According to Kraus, parents and coaches typically agree on the "right" answer in terms of the reasons sports are beneficial for kids: building character, reinforcing a work ethic, developing integrity, teamwork, etc. But knowing the right answer doesn't always stop parents and/or coaches from applying too much pressure on kids to win, be a star player, or live up to the investment that parents have spent on private training and travel teams. Essentially, we all need to remind ourselves that the fundamental goal is (or should be) to keep young athletes engaged in sport. Staying engaged reinforces the values parents and coaches say they want. Sports help foster and fortify exercise and nutrition habits that lead to improved health throughout adulthood. The question Kraus asks is, how can we help kids set and achieve goals in a way that keeps them engaged?

Focus on "competitive maturity," not actual age

This is such a critical element for coaches in the youth ranks. Kraus encourages parents and coaches to consider an athlete's competitive/training maturity over chronological age. For example, your team might have two 12-year-old goaltenders. One has been playing competitive hockey for four years, the other just picked up the game (or position) this season. They might be the same chronological age, but could be vastly different in terms of competitive maturity, based on playing experience. From a goals perspective, the athlete with more experience is more likely to thrive despite greater challenges compared to the more novice athlete. Coaches need to adjust accordingly.

Goal setting versus goal getting

The traits of control, self-determination, and accountability can change dramatically as an athlete progresses from elementary school through high school. For goals to be effective, a young goaltender needs to have adequate control over the factors necessary to achieve them. This is why Kraus encourages players, parents, and coaches to focus on "goal getting" instead of "goal setting." This is more than semantics. Goal getting is based on what a young athlete can achieve through effort. Goal setting is based on win/loss types of outcomes, and can depend heavily on teammates. These are real and measurable goals that children can achieve (or fail to achieve, as the case may be). But the achievement or failure is based on the only thing they can really control: their effort. Here are some examples:

Goal setting
# Win more than half our games this season
# Win the league championship
# Make the varsity squad

Goal getting

# Develop more confidence in handling dump-ins and making passes (skill acquisition)
# Faster recovery from the butterfly, or stronger lateral push (power development)
# Encourage teammates at every practice and game (leadership)

Employ words deliberately

Likewise, the words that parents and coaches use can have a dramatic impact on a young athlete. Kraus believes adults tend to be specific with criticism and vague with praise. Think about the post-game car ride home. Do you point out specific instances where your young goaltender didn't cover a loose puck quick enough, or a specific time when he (or she) was off his angles? Do you follow that up with nebulous praise for "battling" or "working hard"? Kraus said very specific criticism paints mental pictures of what went wrong, but vague praise doesn't help players to similarly visualize success. It's important for coaches and parents to be as specific with praise as with criticism. Instead of "you were aggressive," recall a specific example: "It was great to see you challenge the shooter during that breakaway late in the first period, and take away the net." You still have every right to point out areas that need improving. But consider how quickly and specifically we can identify and describe failures, and how critical it is to identify and accurately describe achievements.

Intrinsic versus extrinsic motivation

According to Kraus, parents and coaches need to understand the source of an athlete's motivation when it comes to establishing appropriate goals. Athletes motivated by internal, personal achievement have high "intrinsic" motivation (the fire within). Athletes motivated by external validation, like social status or prizes, have high "extrinsic" motivation. Both are valuable, but intrinsic motivation is crucial for long-term participation and achievement. If an athlete exhibits high intrinsic motivation early on by prioritizing personal achievement and what success feels like – rather than what it looks like – then coaches and parents can help the athlete progress by encouraging the pursuit of extrinsic goals (winning). Conversely, if an athlete exhibits high extrinsic motivation early on by prioritizing winning and elevated status that results from success, then coaches and parents should help nurture that player's intrinsic motivation before reinforcing his (or her) extrinsic motivation.

Consequences and rewards

Young athletes are more likely to tougher on themselves for failures (both perceived and real) compared to the criticisms they might get from parents and coaches, said Kraus. On the other end of the spectrum, neither young athletes nor their parents and coaches tend to praise effort or achievement to the same extent. In essence, young athletes, parents, and coaches are all biased toward criticism and negative consequences. To counter that, coaches and parents should encourage young athletes to establish concrete consequences and rewards related to effort, and not outcomes.

Goaltenders should ask themselves this question: How do I help my team by giving my best effort? This is the basis for the athlete's reward. If giving your best effort means you are constantly engaged, battling through screens, encouraging your teammates, that behavior should get rewarded (like taking them out to their favorite restaurant).

Then ask this question: How do I hurt my team when I don't give my best effort? This is the basis for the athlete's consequence. Giving up early rather than competing to the final whistle, or ripping a teammate for a penalty or defensive breakdown, are examples of you not giving your best effort. That's what you pay a consequence for (like losing Xbox or PlayStation for a couple of days).

The athlete, peers, and teammates should be the initial judges of whether an athlete earned a reward or should suffer a consequence (ensuring age-appropriate decisions). Team captains should provide input next, with coaches and parents as the last people to weigh in. That builds accountability, which is a hallmark of all great goaltenders.

FINIS

Too much of a good thing is potentially bad for goalies

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

Hi gang,

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

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

All the best,
-Brion

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Too much of a good thing is potentially bad for goalies

"Get the balance right … "
-Depeche Mode

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I couldn’t agree more.

FINIS

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.

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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.

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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

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

Sometimes, the pads never quite fit

OK, so where exactly do I begin with this stance?!!

One of the greatest challenges of writing a blog, or a regular column, is keeping your voice fresh. It is, after all, your voice (or mine, in this instance), and slowly, over time, a dreaded predictability can creep into the writing. It's something that writers have to be constantly vigilant about, because, let's face, it, we love to hear ourselves talk. The past summer, I had a topic that I felt went far beyond the normal parameters of my monthly The Goalie Guru column for the New England Hockey Journal. So I asked my colleague and good friend, April "The Hockey Mom" Bowling, if we could switch columns for an issue.

It turned out to be something of a mixed blessing. My regular readers got a new voice - April is a superb columnist – with a fresh perspective. I, on the other hand, found out that one of my favorite pupil's – April's son Sam – was giving up the position. Not the sport, just goaltending. It was a bittersweet pill to swallow, because Sam was one of those rare youngsters who just seemed to thrive in the nets. He would keep smiling no matter how hard he worked, and he was a sponge, soaking up everything nugget of goaltending knowledge I could offer. He simply loved learning about the position, and the game. So it's with somewhat unresolved emotions that I present April's column. I wish her and her son nothing but success. But I'll miss him ...

Sometimes, the pads never quite fit 

This is probably the one and only time you'll ever catch my writing in Brion O'Connor's goaltending column. Why? Because I'm writing about the end of my son's goalie career. And he's only eight. After this, I can't imagine I'll have much to write about between the pipes.

For those of you who've read my Hockey Mom column in the past, you might already know the history. For everyone else, my then seven-year-old son, Sam, shocked us at the beginning of last season when he declared that he wanted to play in goal for his third season as a Mite.  

I guess it wasn't a huge shock. Sam had rotated through goal the previous year and seemed to like it, but no more than he did every other position on the ice. In fact, I was suspicious that it had more to do with wanting to avoid skating than it did with a true desire to tend the net. He’d been disappointed not to make the Mite 1 team and felt his skating skills were to blame. So being my son – instead of committing to work harder and get better – his first instinct was to hide from his weaknesses.

The apple, as they say, does not fall far from the tree. So in this case, it wound up between the pipes. We insisted that he continued to skate out, but he spent the majority of the first half of the season as goalie. He won. He lost. He made big saves. He let in some easy goals. He began going to Brion's goalie workouts, and he L-O-V-E-D every second of it.  

And I H-A-T-E-D it.

I hated watching him out there as the final backstop. When the team wins, there is at least one goal scorer to share the goalie's credit. When the team loses, it's hard for the goalie not to feel the greatest burden since every other player on the roster equally shares the failure to score enough goals to win. Can you tell I'm not a team-sports-kind-of-athlete?

But actually, I think this quote attributed to former NHL goalie, Arturs Irbe, sums up what I felt every time Sam went out there (even if he didn't feel it).

“The goalie is like the guy on the minefield. He discovers the mines and destroys them. If you make a mistake, somebody gets blown up.”

No pressure there! As an aside, after revealing this attitude, I'm thinking after he reads this column Brion would never LET me have his column space again even if I was still the mom of a goalie …

Despite the pressure – or maybe because of it – I started to take a curious pride in Sam's resiliency. I might be distraught over a loss, but he seemed to rebound pretty quickly. I might be overjoyed at a win, but he just shrugged it off. There is something so admirable to me about that kind of mental toughness that I began to be OK with the thought that maybe, just maybe, I was going to have to live with many more years of Sam behind the mask.

And then just as quickly he decided being in net wasn't his thing. And it was right after we bought goalie pads to boot.  

Another boy had been splitting time with Sam in goal and while he was skating out, Sam began scoring. A lot. Then he got moved from wing to center, which initially he hated for the defensive responsibility, but then began to relish for the opportunity to drive plays. He’s always loved to defend the puck and pass at the right moment … now his skating abilities had caught up with the plays he was devising in his head. Or at least close enough.

Sam also noticed something else. The boy he was splitting time with in net was a better goalie than he was and their team was winning more. "Maybe I'll just play back-up goalie," he said. And then, just like that, he never played goalie again.

I will concede the point that he is only eight, and still has another year of Mites. So maybe hell go back to goal at some point. But I have a mother's hunch that it won't happen. He was hiding in goal, as odd as that seems to those of us who would avoid that spotlight like the plague. But Sam would rather bear the brunt of isolation than become what he perceived to be a liability to his team. As soon as he was able to practice enough to do what he really wanted to and be good at it, he skated right out of the net.

Of course, part of me is oddly disappointed. And so is Sam, if only because he won't get to hang out with his beloved Coach O'Connor as much anymore.

But just like Sam going in goal wasn't my choice to make, Sam leaving it isn't my choice either. In fact, I haven't even weighed in on either decision. (OK … maybe I did ask him if he was REALLY sure before I bought those pads. Ahem.)

I see my place as a Hockey Mom as supporting Sam's choices. Sometimes that's just a quiet drive after a tough loss. Sometimes it's seeking out the right coach or camp. Sometimes it's offering advice when it's asked for, or maybe even when it isn’t. But Sam's decisions in hockey, just like they someday will be in life, are his alone to make. Ultimately, his mom is just along for the ride.

So while we may meet again, for now I'll say goodbye to my favorite Goalie. OK, Brion, now you can have your column back.

FINIS

Keep track of the shots your goalies face in practice ...

How many shots is too many? Coaches, you should know ...

Hi gang,

So here we are, on the cusp of Labor Day weekend, which means the eve of another hockey season (don't ask me what happened to ice hockey being a winter sport ... when my daughter's U-14 team hits the ice before the Boston Bruins, something is very, very wrong). That, of course, means it's time for my annual plea for coaches to remember to keep the number of shots their goalies see within reason. Do it for the good of your goalie, and the good of your team. Here's my column on just that topic, originally written for the New England Hockey Journal.

Please, coaches, keep practice shots within reason

Much of what we do in coaching is about repetition. To develop the proper muscle memory and technique, the same maneuver has to be repeated hundreds and hundreds of times – correctly – before it becomes second nature. So I'm going to risk repeating myself in order to remind coaches that hammering your netminder in practice is a sure-fire way to ruin your young prospect. Consider this my annual appeal, not necessarily for sanity, but awareness.

Here's the flawed logic that far too many coaches – and I've seen this even at the elite levels – employ: The more shots, the better. Even in "warm-ups" (a classic oxymoron in this instance). Little attention is paid to exactly what kind of shots the goalie sees, as long as they're coming in large quantities. It's almost as if the coach just expects goalies to miraculously or intuitively to develop perfect technique by facing a mind-numbing number of pucks. Worse, some coaches don't even notice how many shots a kid sees.

Just last month, I was sitting with the mom and grandfather of a young goaltender as they watched their son/grandson at practice. Now, the grandfather knew a thing or two about goaltending, having raised a son who played at the prep school, college, and even minor league levels (earning himself a cup of coffee in the American Hockey League along the way). And Granddad was obviously frustrated watching as his grandson being used as a piñata.

"I think coaches, even good coaches, just don't get it. My grandson is just sitting there, like a target," said the gentleman. "The coaches mean well, but they're oblivious. They don't know how to coach goalies."

Bingo! Still, you'd expect that kind of comment from a frustrated parent or grandparent. I felt exactly the same way when my eldest daughter played goalie in lacrosse. The drills, it seemed to me, where set up specifically to discourage anyone from ever wanting to play the position. And my daughter, being a relatively bright kid (and not having a masochistic streak), got the message pretty quick, and found a different position to play. To some degree, however, I put the onus of my daughter's decision on the coach, who clearly lacked an appreciation for what goalies go through.

Frankly, I'm baffled that more coaches don't see this. Perhaps, like the aforementioned grandfather said, "It's because they've never been goalies." That's true, to an extent. It is a unique position, and just like I don't expect goalies to pick up techniques through osmosis, the same probably applies to coaches. Still, they're adults, and the issue goes beyond personal experience. Volunteer coaches don't need to be experts on goalie instruction, but they need to develop a better understanding of what drills work – and, probably more importantly, don't work – for their young netminders.

I've used this example before, but it bears repeating. If you've got 20 kids lined up in a shooting drill, the goalie is seeing 20 pucks for every shot each individual kid takes. That means, if one kid takes five shots (over the course of a five-minute drill), the goalie is trying to stop 100 shots. In five minutes. That's the perfect recipe for burnout.

Moreover, it's a great way for kids to get hurt. The reality of youth hockey is that the drills that look good on paper often fall apart on the ice. Faster kids start creeping up on top of slower kids, or kids who can't control the puck, and before you know it, the goalie is seeing two or three shots simultaneously. Essentially, you're asking kids between the ages of 8 and 14 to use common sense and look up before shooting. Well, forget it. It just doesn't happen. Heck, it doesn't even happen at the high school level. Most positional players simply aren't wired that way. I sometimes suspect they don't see the goalie at all.

I've lost count of the number of times I've seen youngsters hit by shots, often in unprotected areas, while they're concentrating on the previous shot. This happened to my daughter in lacrosse practice all the time (with the blessings of a clueless coach). It's like asking a Little League batter trying to hit baseballs being thrown by three different pitchers. Most baseball coaches would say that's nuts (and they'd be right). But that's exactly what far too many youth hockey coaches do.

Even if your goalie is fortunate enough to escape getting hurt, the fallout of seeing too many pucks in too little time is another career-killing trait, the Yips. We've all seen kids (often the bigger, stronger kids) skate between the between the hash marks, with their heads down, and crank a slap shot not 10 feet from the goalie. I bet most parents would flinch as well. And once a goalie becomes puck shy, you've got a real problem.

These machine-gun shooting drills are also a guaranteed way to encourage bad habits. Believe me, it's far more difficult to break a young goalie's bad habits than it is to build good habits in the first place. That's why I firmly believe that the Old School way of incorporating goalies is doing a great disservice to these young men and women. When was the last time you saw a coach hold up a drill to instruct a goalie? Again, it doesn't happen.

Here's one last overarching reason you should dispense with repetitive shooting drills. They're not realistic. They … Never … Happen … In … A … Game! I'm not trying to be a smart aleck here (honest!). In a game, there is one puck, and the goalie's chief responsibility, in addition to keep that biscuit out of the net, is to follow it. Everywhere. I tell my goalies that on a 200-by-85 sheet of ice, the only thing they can't lose sight of measures only 1 inch by 3 inches. If they do, they can't get themselves in the best position to do their first job, and make the save.

So what coaches need to do is think outside the box. Create drills that resemble game situations, and emphasize following that single puck, allowing goaltenders to react to the initial shot, and the second and third shots. Have kids come in from a variety of angles (not just a straight ahead breakaway) so the goalie develops crease awareness. Make the goalie follow the puck as it moves across the ice, and not simply sit in the one spot where they expect the shot to come from. Employ screens and tip drills. Make your goalies, and the rest of your players, get after rebounds (this will help develop the tenacity to win those goalmouth battles). Give you goalies, and players, the required time to recover before seeing a new puck (sometimes just a few seconds is all that's needed).

Mostly, just be aware of that kid in the pads between the pipes. Put yourself in his or her skates. Your goalie will benefit, and your team will benefit.

FINIS

Why every player needs to put on the goalie pads

Does this look like a target to you?

Hi gang,

With just a few weeks of summer camps remaining, and the start of youth hockey seasons on the horizon, I thought I'd revisit one of my favorite topics. Year after year after year, I witness kids -- and even coaches -- who treat their goalies like an inanimate bulls-eye. That phenomenon prompted me to write about one of my own long-held coaching beliefs in a column for the New England Hockey Journal. It proved to be one of my more controversial columns, but I still stand by it. Let me know what you think.

Why every player needs to put on the goalie pads

I'm the first to admit my coaching style can be unconventional on occasion. I'm OK with that, because the position, and the game, continues to evolve. And I'm always happy to explain my rationale. The reality is, much of the hockey coaching and hockey parenting that you'll find today is demonstrably Old School, typically based on the "that's how I learned the game" theory (which explains, in part, the resistance to USA Hockey's well-reasoned call for cross-ice games at the Mite level).

So, on the eve of a brand new season, here's another of my offbeat ideas. It's my firm belief, certainly not shared by the majority of hockey parents, that every player ought to spend at least one game in goal. Not a practice, but a game. At least once.

Five years ago, I was coaching my daughter's Squirt team. Our squad had a half-time goalie who was also playing for another team. To accommodate the absences, I implemented a rule at the start of the season that everyone had to take a turn playing a game in the nets. My reasoning was twofold. First, from a practical standpoint, I figured one or two of my young charges might actually like playing between the pipes, which would solve a raft of problems.

Second, though, I wanted every kid to understand what it feels like to get pelted with pucks. It's been my experience that some of the biggest crybabies are the same kids who, in practice and "warm ups," take slap shots from five feet away, or fire away regardless of whether the goalie is actually looking (or preoccupied with the previous shooter), or constantly shoot high, flinging pucks at the goalie's head. They're also the first to blame the goaltender for a soft goal.

So I wanted to make sure that everyone experienced that unique anxiety that the position brings, hoping to instill a little compassion (not a bad exchange for only 36 minutes of game action). And it worked pretty well, in part because it was a "shared burden" that all the kids understood, and it was established right from the get-go. Until the final week of the season. There was one kid – let's call him "Oscar" – who never volunteered to play, and I'm convinced he and his parents were just hoping he'd fly under the radar, and escape the responsibility. They didn't know me.

I called Oscar out for the last game of the season, and told him that I expected him to suit up for the last pre-game practice, just so he could get comfortable with the gear. His mom pulled me aside, and said her son was incredibly nervous about playing goal. I told her I could understand that, but coming to me at the end of the season, when the policy had been in place for six months, was not only bad form, but also limited my options. I reminded Oscar's mom that every child had already played goal (a few, including my daughter, several times), and it wouldn't be fair for me to give her son a pass. After all, lots of the kids weren't wild about playing goal, but they all had stepped up (and none, to my knowledge, had suffered grave emotional scars).

Last, I told Oscar's parents what I figured they already knew, that there are many, many times in life when we're asked to do things we're not entirely comfortable with, and avoiding those moments is not the ideal approach.

So what did Oscar and his parents do? They bailed. Just didn't show up for the final game. Was I surprised? Not in the least (in fact, I'd already warned my daughter – the joy of being the coach's kid – to be ready to suit up if Oscar went AWOL). But was I disappointed? Absolutely. Rather than subject their child to a short lesson in facing up to his fears, Oscar's folks let him skate free. Please tell me what, if any, benefit could be derived from that?

Somewhat predictably, Oscar didn't return the next season. I don't know if he went to another program or not. On one hand, it saddens me to think he may have quit the sport over this situation. On the other hand, if a 36-minute stint in the nets is enough to sour him on the sport, better he find out early that he's not cut out to be a hockey player.

Here are the lessons that Oscar missed out on. First, goaltending is hard. Kids who don't play the position don't understand how tough it can be (much like coaches who never played in the nets). It requires an entirely different skill set, from skating to setting up on your angles. You've got to follow a rock-hard puck, measuring only one-by-three inches, and stop it from entering a four-by-six foot goal. And you've got to do it while trying to move around in bulky gear designed to protect you. That's a tall order for most youngsters.

Second, you can't take a shift off. Regular players make mistakes all the time, but most of the time those gaffs don't result in goals. Coaches might see the mistakes, which can lead to some tough love on the bench. Kids, though, rarely notice the errors of their linemates. But they do notice the goals, and if a goalie makes a mistake that leads directly to a goal, that goalie is going to hear about it from his or her peers.

Which leads to my third point – Goalies, even young ones, face tremendous pressure. Even on teams with enlightened coaches, who try to shield their netminders from unwarranted criticism, being the last line of defense is no picnic. I'm sure this was the major reason Oscar refused to play. But I'm just as certain that, if you never play the position, you never develop the appreciation of that particular brand of torture. We live and die a little bit with each save and each goal (that probably goes double for goalie parents).

I still remember the breakaway goal that Mike LaValliere (the former Pittsburgh Pirates catcher) scored on me in high school, when the puck hit my glove, my shoulder, and then agonizingly rolled down my back into the net. The year? 1975. That's how much goalies carry the weight of each goal with them (fortunately, my memory has become much more selective during my beer-league career!).

Giving regular players a small taste of that isn't a bad thing. Hopefully, the experience develops a little empathy, and camaraderie, within a hockey team. Try it.

FINIS

One puck ...

Cap Raeder (left) during his WHA glory days.

'Morning, gang,

With the hockey season in full swing (it is, after all, early October, for crying out loud), I wanted to address to role of goalies in your typical youth hockey practice. The old saw is that the goaltender "is the most important position on the ice." But you'd never know it watching just about any practice session from high school (and some colleges) down to Atoms. During these sessions, goalies are more likely to resemble cannon fodder, taking shot after shot after shot until they're ready to drop.

So this past summer, I asked long-time coach Cap Raeder, who I first watched play between the pipes at the University of New Hampshire in the mid-1970s (the accompanying photo is from Raeder's professional playing days with the New England Whalers of the short-lived World Hockey Association), what he thought of the barrage of shots that a practice goalie has to fend off. The spin-off of that conversation was this Goalie Guru column for the New England Hockey Journal. The column mentions two goalie-specific shooting drills, but there are dozens that both goalies and position players can benefit from. For details, drop me a line.

ONE PUCK

The key to good goalie drills is keeping things realistic

Robert "Cap" Raeder has been around the block. The former University of New Hampshire All-American goaltender (1972-75) from Needham, MA, followed his Wildcat playing days with a five-year professional career, which included a stint with the original New England Whalers of the World Hockey Association. He's been an assistant coach and head coach at the collegiate level (notably Clarkson, 1985-89) and an assistant coach with the Los Angeles Kings, Boston Bruins, San Jose Sharks, and Tampa Bay Lightning.

So, it's safe to say, Raeder has just about seen it all on an ice sheet. And when it comes to practice plans for goaltenders, he can boil it down to a simple, over-riding philosophy: One puck.

"That's all you need," said Raeder. "And that's how many they play the game with."

Obviously, Raeder is speaking figuratively, but his point is clear, and important. Hockey coaches need to let go of their outdated love affair with having dozens of pucks in play during any one drill (if the drill includes goaltenders). This is especially true during shooting drills, which many youth hockey coaches like to use as part of their warm-up regimen. Somewhere along the line, the idea of goalies seeing a gazillion shots got ingrained in the game's coaching psyche. If 15 shots are good, 50 must be better, right?

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Think of it in terms of simple math. If you have 20 kids lined up on the boards, racing off on a breakaway or a give-and-go shooting drill, the goalie is going to see 20 shots for each kid. If every kid takes five shots (not many, if you ask them), the goalie sees 100 pucks. And that's before the practice is 15 minutes deep.

Here's another favorite – the time-honored 3-shot drill, when three kids supposedly loop around three different cones (at varying distances from the goal) to take three quick shots. That looks great on paper, but it falls apart pretty quickly on the ice. Faster kids catch slower kids and shoot simultaneously, often without even looking up. The result is a goalie who, at best, doesn't know which shot to focus on, and, at worst, risks getting injured by the shot he's not watching.

Again, these drills simply don't reflect hockey the way the game is played. They do have some predictable results, few of which are positive.

Rapid-fire shooting drills are a sure-fire way to produce a shell-shocked netminder. And even if your goalie doesn't develop the yips, he or she is almost certain to develop bad habits. Here's why: Shooting drills like this are exhausting, which translates to young goalies standing like statues in the middle of their crease. They stop moving. They stop telescoping to challenge the shooter, and stop recoiling properly to play the deke. They don't drop on low shots, because dropping into the butterfly means having to get back up again (I challenge almost any youth hockey coach to do that 100 times in less than 10 minutes). And they completely stop thinking about rebounds, because all they're worried about is the next shot (and the next one).

So, in a game, these same goalies aren't as quick to look for a rebound, or follow it, because it hasn't become habitual. They're more likely to stay deep in the net, because that's what they've become accustomed to. They're as likely to recover on the wrong leg as the correct one because, in practice, they consistently rely on their stronger leg. And if they become puck shy from all the rubber they see in practice, that problem becomes magnified in a game, when the pressure is on.

Now, I understand the benefit for the kids taking a ton of shots. That repetition builds critical muscle memory. But they don't need a living, breathing target. Get a shooter tutor. They're cheap, and easy to install. Even better, they don't lie. Instead of a puck slipping through an exhausted Squirt goalie (who then has to watch the ensuing celebration), kids will find that weak shots get stopped. The same way they get snuffed out in a game, when they're facing a goalie who hasn't been run into the ground.

The key is having coaches develop an eye, and some empathy, really, for when a goalie gets tired. You can't just ask them – most youngsters would rather get grounded for a month than admit they're tired. But watch their body language. The legs are usually the first to go, and it's usually pretty obvious. Tired kids simply stop skating.

Even better, think outside the box when it comes to shooting drills. As Raeder says, emphasize drills that focus on one puck at a time, giving the goalies time to follow rebounds, and recover correctly. Here are two favorites that I borrowed from Brian Daccord while working at his Stop It Goaltending camps this past summer.

Two-net drill (any place on the ice along the boards). Set two nets roughly 12 feet apart, facing each other, with a goalie in each. A single player starts between the goalies. Coach (or another player) tosses puck in, and the "player in the middle" can shoot on either goalie. Rebounds are fair game, but bank shots off the boards aren't allowed. If the puck goes in, gets covered up, or goes out of play, coach yells "new puck!" First goalie to give up two goals loses (with a time max of 20-30 seconds). Then players rotate.

High-low drill (using the full offensive zone, or one third of a full sheet). The goalie is in the net, which is set up in the crease. The coach has the pucks at one face-off dot, and the players line up behind the opposite face-off dot. There are two orange cones on the edge of that second face-off circle, about 4 feet to either side of the inside hash marks. The goalie starts by facing the players at one corner of the crease, and initiates the drill by drop-stepping across the crease toward the coach. The coach sends a pass between the cones to the opposite face-off dot, with goalie following the puck. The player receiving the pass must either drive below the lower cone (an in-tight play), or high above the higher cone and across the high slot for a shot. At game speed. The goalie reacts accordingly, protecting the short side on the low drive, and stepping to the top of the crease on the high move. Rebounds are live, and goalies should be encouraged to follow all rebounds, even those that go out of play (Tip: If the player drives high on his backhand, encourage a backhand shot).

These are just for starters. I can't see any reason why coaches wouldn't want to embrace these types of drills, because they're remarkably beneficial to position players as well. They are battle drills, requiring quick hands, quick feet, and quick decision-making. Every one gets a great workout, while developing essential skills. And since the coaches control feeding the pucks, they control the tempo of the drill. Which is a win-win for everyone, including the goaltenders.

FINIS