The most solitary position ...

Goalie camp? At 43? Why not? Goes to show you're never too old to take a puck upside the head. This account of one of the longest weeks of my life (albeit 10 years ago) appeared in the now-defunct Hockey Magazine. The photo above comes from my once-in-a-lifetime outing in January, 2010, playing at Fenway Park in Boston (which you can read about here).

NET GAIN
A 40-something goaltender tries to recapture his glory days

Lying prone on a cool sheet of ice, gasping for air, I lapse into another Walter Mitty fantasy. I'm no longer at the Mount Vernon Recreation and Ice Center outside Washington, D.C., desperately trying to keep from overheating beneath 35-plus pounds of soaking-wet goaltending gear. No, I'm between the pipes at Madison Square Garden, sporting the home white sweater of my beloved Rangers. The time? Winter, 1974.

Boston Bruins' winger Wayne Cashman is in the corner, mucking it up with Dale Roulfe, my Rock-of-Gibraltar defenseman. The puck squirts to the front of the net. Bruins' center Phil Esposito, on his way to a 68-goal season, pounces on it. He snaps off a lightning quick snap shot, low, stick-side. I instinctively flash my left leg pad. The puck glances off my toe buckle and flips harmlessly into the crowd. In the press box, Marv Albert screams into his microphone, "Kick save, O'Connor, and a beauty!" Color man Bill Chadwick, a Hall of Fame referee, chimes in: "This kid O'Connor came to play tonight ..." A goofy, satisfied grin creases my face.

"O'Connor! Hey, O'Connor! You gonna play sometime today?" barks Gerry "Elroy" Ellison, part-time goalie instructor and full-time drill sergeant. I surface reluctantly from my reverie, blinking the sweat from my eyes, realizing I'm still at the Puckstoppers Goaltending School. Slowly, I pull my bruised body off the ice, and resume my post for the next drill. I want to blame my murky state of mind on taking a puck up side the head, but I can't. I'm hurting because I'm 43. Whatever fitness I brought to camp with me evaporated as quickly as my fantasy. And my instructors aren't cutting me much slack.

At this precise moment, I'm struggling to recall exactly why I signed on for this five-day camp. There are vague recollections - I not only hoped to recapture some of my youth, but I wanted to make sure the guys in the late-night league back home in Boston weren't thinking I'd gotten soft. Several of my goaltending colleagues have been entertaining thoughts about hanging up their pads and skates, which only hardened my resolve to turn back the clock.

Truth is, I never had any formal education in the science of goaltending. My coaches in high school and the early days of college were former position players - forwards and defensemen - who had trouble relating to goalies. As other hockey players will attest, goalies are a singular breed, requiring special tutoring (or, as one derisive teammate once told me, “custom-made strait jackets”).My education was self-imposed - I ceaselessly studied Hall of Famer Jacques Plante's tome, "On Goaltending," until the book’s binder nearly disintegrated, and tried to apply its lessons to my game.

Recently, on the downhill side of my athletic career but still playing a few times each week, my mind shifted into a "now or never" mode. I could soldier on, a half-decent, middle-age goalie, or I could try to pick up my game a notch. What I needed was some top-notch instruction. I found it with Puckstoppers, an Ontario-based outfit that visits Alexandria, Virginia, each summer for a week. You might not think of the District of Columbia and its environs as a hotbed for hockey. Think again.

At the end of every morning session, dozens of pick-up players were lining up for noontime "stick practice." Back home in Massachusetts, many rinks shut down in the summer. Mount Vernon ice director Ernie Harris tells me "This place was originally designed to have two rinks. If I had that second sheet, I could book it solid."

On the first morning of camp, I sat in snarled Beltway traffic, listening with a jaded ear to Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days" on the radio, wondering whether I still had the goods, and whether I'd be the only gray-haired keeper in the class. Heck, I'd have settle for anyone who could legally join me for a beer afterward.

Fortunately, I met two guys my age - Gerry Oakman, who works with the Justice Department, and Joe O'Connell, a family doctor from Arkansas. Both have Boston-area roots, and share an almost inexplicable love for hockey. We hit it off immediately. In hindsight, that's not surprising.

Goalies are naturally drawn to each other. We’re part of a team, yet stand apart – masked loners, solitary watchmen standing guard by our nets the entire game, an army of one. Other players don’t know what to make of us, but most are convinced that only someone with a few screws loose would actually volunteer to play our position. Buried under layers of unwieldy gear and confined to a limited skating area, goalies stick out like ocean liners surrounded by speedboats. Together, we make up an odd fraternity, a fellowship of proud masochists.

Our task is simple: Stop a vulcanized rubber puck, an inch thick and three inches in diameter, from entering a 4-by-6 foot goal. With composite sticks and curved blades, even recreational players can fire a puck upwards of 100 miles an hour. Adding insult to potential injury, the very nature of the position leads to more criticism than applause. We give up goals, but don't score them. We're often blamed for losses, but only occasionally praised for victories. We are, in short, the team’s lightning rod.

Oakman recalls a Plante quote - "How would you like to have a job, that when you made a mistake, a big red light went on and 18,000 people booed?"

"For me, that's a motivator, to join a very select group of men and women who step up to meet that challenge," says Oakman.

Challenge indeed. I always thrived on goaltending’s unique reality – by the position’s very nature, the goalie is the one player who can single-handedly stop an entire team from winning. After all, if the opponent doesn’t score, you can’t lose. And on those rare games when I’m really focused and feeling invincible, the puck looks the size of a balloon, and moves about as quick. In my mind’s eye, it seems I can see where the puck is going even before the shot is fired. Granted, those moments didn’t come often enough to sustain my dream of a pro career or Division I scholarship. But even now, when they happen, they’re magic.

Unfortunately, I quickly realize there’s nothing “magical” about goalie camp. I understand it’s purpose and promise, but I’m ill prepared for the workload. For the next five days, two hours each morning, two each afternoon, Ellison and his Puckstoppers colleagues run us through a gamut of drills and instruction designed to improve our game. Or kill us.

We work on stance, movement, angles, low shots, high shots, deflections, rebounds, breakaways. Shooting machines fire pucks at us relentlessly - one nicks a crease in my armor, just above my blocker, and my elbow stings for hours. During each session, usually following some tortuous skating or agility drill, Oakman, O'Connell and I exchange futile glances and muted words of encouragement. Sweat pours from old pores as we struggle to keep pace with youngsters a fraction of our age. Each day, we wonder aloud whether we can finish the week. Parents of younger campers look at us as though we've lost our marbles. Incredulous, I reply: "Hey, we're goalies!"

The inference, I trust, is crystal clear - goaltenders, whether young or aging, are by definition a bit off-center. We all survive - barely.

"I'm sure people were giggling behind my back," says O'Connell, who admits hoping to play well into his 60s. "Screw 'em. I always wanted to do this."

Two weeks after I hauled my oversized bag of goalie gear from the Mount Vernon Ice Center for the last time, and the aches have finally subsided, my evaluation from the Puckstoppers gang arrives. I glance at the list of the position's finer points, including everything from dexterity, glove saves and rebounds. Most of my ratings fall in the "fair" category, with some "good" and a few "excellent" marks. Charity points, I figure. Head coach Chris Dyson reminds me, "glove in front, pads a bit apart."

"If you work on those small points, your game will be huge," writes Dyson. "Unfortunately, there were so many 'small things' I can't remember them all!"

Dyson's good-natured jab is followed by a happy-face doodle. I can read between the lines. I'm being told, gently, "Don't quit your day job." Walter Mitty would be crushed. Not me. Come tomorrow night, I'll be down at the rink, facing rubber.

Best,
-Brion

Goalie strong

Here's my June column from the New England Hockey Journal (though it can now also be found in the New York Hockey Journal ... all part of my grand plan to take over the hockey universe!). Fitness was once a dirty word for ice hockey goalies. No more. In fact, it is absolutely essential.

GOALIE STRONG

Perhaps the most enduring, and erroneous, misconception about goaltenders is this: Goalies don't need to be in shape. In reality, this notion was never true, and is no doubt a holdover from the time-honored practice of sticking some unfortunate overweight, slow kid in nets during neighborhood street hockey or shinny games.

Today, with the position's emphasis on the butterfly technique and proper recovery, it's essential that goaltenders be among the fittest players on the ice. There's really no way around it. Athleticism is a bonus, but even goalies with less-than-exceptional reflexes can close that gap significantly if they dedicate themselves to getting in shape.

That fact really hit home recently, in two distinctly different settings. The first was a youth hockey practice, where I had a number Squirt and Pee-Wee goalies. The second was a Stinky Socks adult goalie clinic, with netminders ranging in age from 22 to 62. In both groups, the common denominator separating the solid goalies from those who struggled was fitness. For many of the huffing and puffing netminders, young and old alike, it was a rude wake-up call. This is not an easy position to play, if you want to play it correctly.

The techniques we teach now put a premium on dynamic, athletic moves – butterfly slide, butterfly push, recovery – that require not only power, but also endurance. If you think you can "play your way into shape," using only your time on ice to get fit, you won't stand a chance. This isn't, to paraphrase an old marketing slogan, your father's goaltending position.

Time was, hockey coaches would shout to their young netminders, "Stay on your feet!" Now, more often than not, the refrain is "Get up!" Which makes sense. The "stand-up" goaltender is, for all intents and purposes, an anachronism. Instead, youngsters today, enamored with the style they typically see on display at the collegiate and NHL level, are inclined to drop too early too often (which reveals a lack of discipline that the butterfly technique requires). Still, even coaches without much goaltending experience or expertise can see the benefits of the butterfly style on the first shot (provided, of course, that it's employed correctly).

What drives these coaches (and me) crazy, though, is the young goalie who hits the ice, and then gets stuck there like a beached whale. They're quick to flop, but far too slow to recover. And typically the reason comes down to a lack of fitness.

With youngsters, fitness – the combination of strength, power, and stamina – comes quickly, provided they apply themselves. Members of the PlayStation Generation may not be as active as their parents were, but they'll soon learn that strong thumbs won't get them very far on the ice. As I mentioned last month, I'm a big proponent of active sports off ice, such as soccer, lacrosse, roller hockey, and tennis. The more often kids can get outside and play, the better.

On this score, I'm going to cut the older guys (and gals) with work and family responsibilities some slack. The position has changed dramatically in the past 10-15 years, so they're not only adapting to new techniques, but also trying to regain lost fitness. For the plus-30 goalie, it's a question of putting it all together. Most are strong (resistance), but not necessarily powerful (motion). Plus, stamina (or lack thereof) is also a serious issue. Be patient, and take the time necessary off-ice to prepare yourself for the rigors of play.

With the idea of getting fitter quicker in mind, here are a handful of easy exercises that will help any goaltender, regardless of age, better handle the demands of the position. I purposely steered clear of "weight-training" regimens (we can delve into that topic in a later column). For now, I'm focusing on developing a foundation, using simple plyometrics (or exercises that take advantage of your own body weight). Most of these can be done in your spare time, while watching the Red Sox or Bruins' re-runs this summer.

Strong middle ground
Your core, or mid-section, is key to overall performance. A former soccer coach once told me, "When your core is strong, everything else follows." And he was right. A sturdy middle will help you maintain balance, and move with a quiet upper body, allowing your lower body to do the hard work. Excellent exercises include planks, side bends and twists, and sit-ups. Just be careful not to strain your lower back; Keep those knees bent!

Explosive power
Both forward and side lunges help strengthen the all-important quadriceps, gluteus, and hip muscles. These are the big muscles that drive you in those short, dynamic movements that goalies need to be at the right place at the right time. If they're weak, you'll try overcompensating with your arms, and rather than having a quiet upper body (See a theme here?) and compact blocking surface, you'll be flailing about the crease. A series of simple squats and lunges (side to side and forward) will help jog your muscle memory. Wall sits will work your quads, while elastic exercise bands are great for working those big, stabilizing hip muscles.

In good hands
The ability to control your stick is an underappreciated skill. You need hand and forearm strength to be able to control your stick on initial shots, and when playing the puck (another vastly underrated talent). Improve your grip strength by squeezing a chunk of thera-putty or tennis ball, and whip your forearms into shape with wrist curls (tie a piece of rope around an old stick shaft, and attach any size weight, to give you a perfectly functional wrist curl tool).

Rolling into shape
Perhaps the single best – and most fun – off-ice training regimen I can recommend comes with knobby tires, handlebars, and a saddle. Road cycling is fun, but for flat-out fitness, you can't do better than mountain biking. Plus, it's a blast. Riding off-road, especially on tight, twisty singletrack with lots of short, steep hills, helps you develop the explosive power and balance that goaltending requires. It's a full-body workout that engages your gray matter as well.

Stretching it out
Last, a quick word to my adult goalies. Flexibility is inherent in young bodies, but typically AWOL in those of us past 30. Don't forget to stretch. Often. Stretch lightly before and after exercise. Stretch in the morning and evening for good measure. The operate word here is "lightly." Don't overdo it, or you'll risk muscle and ligament strains. Yoga (especially Bikram, or "hot yoga") is another excellent option to regain flexibility.

Best,
-Brion