Playing goal is in my blood. Has to be. Really, when you stop and think about it, that can be the only explanation for why someone (me, in this instance) would keep putting himself in front of a rock-hard slab of vulcanized rubber, one that's often traveling upwards 0f 100 miles an hour, for more than four decades (the accompanying photo is taken from one of my "adult" league games ... we're contractually obligated by our wives to put the term "adult" in quotation marks in every reference!).
Heck, even today, less than a week following hip surgery, and a day after my 53rd birthday, I can't wait to get back on the ice (despite stern reservations from my surgeon, and my bride). But there's an undeniable draw to playing goalie in ice hockey, provided you're wired correctly. While you're not responsible for scoring, you can singlehandedly keep you team in the game by keeping the puck out of your net. You don't get to celebrate after every save, only at the end of the game. And even those post-game celebrations are typically much more subdued then the end-zone dances that goal scoring tends to engender these days.
Those moments, though, when you're stopping everything the opposition can throw at you, are priceless. For those who accept that challenge, and thrive under the particular pressure (lunacy?) that goaltending presents, there isn't a better place to play. So, with 40 years of experience under my belt (and the subsequent evolution from stand-up to hybrid to butterfly styles), I've decided to share what I've learned about "the most important position in team sports." For the past dozen years, I've coached younger goaltenders (heck, they're almost all younger than me these days; even the guys in the adult clinics), which has proven to be a real nice continuum, a way to give back to a sport that has given me so much.
One of the most glaring observations I've made while coaching is how little other coaches, and parents, understand the demands placed on the goalie, both physically and mentally, in practice and in games. The classic example of this disconnect is the time-honored shooting drill, in all its permutations. You know this drill, when player after player after player skates in on the goalie and rips a shot (often a slap shot from the hash marks). So, if you've got 20 skaters at practice, the goalie is seeing 20 shots for every single shot taken by each player. Two shots per player, 40 pucks flying at the goalie. Oftentimes, those shots come in rapid-fire succession, not allowing the goalie even a split second to regain his or her composure and/or stance. Then it's on to yet another shooting drill.
Ten minutes into practice, the goalie is toast, and starts stumbling around like a shell-shocked soldier from the front lines. And the coach, innocent but oblivious, can't understand why. Often they'll try to pump up the kid with encouragement, not realizing they've already lost him/her for that practice. I've even overheard coaches comment on how certain goalies "quit on a drill," with little understanding that they ran the poor kid into the ice.
The idea behind this blog is to help bridge that gap. I plan to not only offer advice and tips for goalies on training and technique and equipment, but also to help coaches and parents better understand the very unique challenges of this very unique position. I welcome any and all questions. Ultimately, I hope to create a vigorous round-table discussion on the fine art of goaltending, where anyone and everyone can weigh in. Join us!
All the best,
-Brion
No comments:
Post a Comment