The Goalie Guru blog, and all its linked materials, is offered as a one-stop resource to assist ice hockey goaltenders, their coaches and parents (realizing that the latter two are often one and the same) in gaining a better understanding of this truly unique position. Comments, questions, and suggestions welcomed! Reach me at 978-609-7224, or brionoc@verizon.net.

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Sports without sportsmanship is a hollow activity

You don't have to be brothers - like Ken Dryden, left,
and Dave Dryden - to embrace good sportsmanship.
Hi gang,

I've been thinking about the concept of "sportsmanship" quite a bit lately, promptly by the unseemly practice of schools lobbying for their candidates for college hockey's Hobey Baker Award (really, if you're campaigning for this award, you have no idea why Baker was selected to represent college hockey's highest honor, and you should do some homework).

Sportsmanship, for me, is a critical component to playing sports. Winning is important, don't get me wrong. So is playing the right way. It's about treating your opponents, your teammates, the refs, and the game with dignity and respect. That's what this column is about.

Let me know what you think. Best, -Brion

##

SPORTS WITHOUT SPORTSMANSHIP IS A HOLLOW ACTIVITY

February represents the stretch run for most high school hockey seasons. In other words, this is the time of the season when coaches tend to get hyper-focused on winning, whether it's simply to make the playoffs, or to get a better post-season seed. Far too often, I've seen coaches lose their composure, and their sense of sportsmanship. And if a coach loses sight of the overriding values that these game are supposed to impart, what can we expect of the players?

Last spring, I watched with serious concern and consternation as a local girls hockey coach went on a Twitter rant when his team lost a playoff game, in a shootout, against a lower-seeded squad. The game-winning goal may (or may not) have been hit a second time by the shooter. Hockey fans, coaches, and refs know that, in a penalty-shot scenario, a player can't touch the puck a second time after it's shot. In this case, the refs ruled that the puck wasn't hit twice, which ended the game.

Afterward, the coach of the losing squad took to Twitter to vent. Here's a sampling:

"They blew the call and I could tell they knew it."

"The player clearly saw the puck laying there after the initial attempt, instincts tell her to tip it again. Bad bad call."

"Why are the officials out of position? Horrible."

Now, I understand in this day and age, Twitter allows people – even our highest-ranking elected official – to go complain publicly whenever they feel like it. But I was clearly disheartened by the obvious lack of class, and the total absence of sportsmanship, on display in the coach's tweets.

To make matters worse, some players on the coach's team apparently followed his lead. At least one team captain refusing to take part in the handshake line after what had been an outstanding girls high school hockey game. That's such a shame. After all, we're talking about a girls hockey game. Yes, the games are important, especially a playoff game. But that's exactly when sportsmanship is supposed to trump bad behavior.

The more important the game, the higher the stakes, the more sportsmanship should matter. That's why Hobart Amory Hare "Hobey" Baker is a genuine hero of mine.

Baker, who played hockey and football at St. Paul's School in New Hampshire and Princeton University, was so supremely talented that he drew special attention from his opponents. Many of those opponents took liberties, and at a time (early 1900s) when hockey was incredibly rough, Baker took a beating. But he didn't retaliate. Instead, Baker was the epitome of "letting his play do the talking." After the game, he would visit the opponents' locker room to shake hands with each player.

Following his graduation from Princeton, where his team won two national championships, Baker joined the St. Nicholas Club in New York. During the 1914-15 season, when he led the club to national amateur championship, arenas advertised games by posting "Hobey Baker Plays Tonight," which embarrassed him. Baker would plead with sportswriters to highlight the club, not him.

In 1991, the great Sports Illustrated writer Ron Fimrite said this of Baker: "Through his Spartan example, he imposed a code of behavior on athletes, particularly college athletes, that was accepted, if not faithfully observed, for the better part of four decades. It is now, alas, as forgotten as the dropkick. In the Hobey code, for example, a star player must be modest in victory, generous in defeat. He credits his triumphs to teamwork, accepts only faint praise for himself. He is clean-cut in dress and manner. He plays by the rules. He never boasts, for boasting is the worst form of muckery. And above all, he is cool and implacable, incapable of conspicuous public demonstration."

Sadly, the Hobey Baker Memorial Award Foundation has lost sight of what made Baker great. They've ignored his legacy by turning the award into a popularity contest. School sports information offices churn out marketing material for their candidates, an act that would make Baker cringe. It is the antithesis of what he stood for, which is that no one player was any more important than any other. Baker was all about his team, which, somewhat ironically, is what made him legendary.

A general lack of sportsmanship not only impacts how we deal with opponents, and officials, but also how we treat our teammates. When there's an overall erosion of the values of the game, the fabric that binds a team can fall apart. Conversely, when players put the team first – a basic tenet of sportsmanship – great things can happen.

Here's an example. I'm not using real names, because I haven't asked for parental permission to tell this story. But it's a great story about a player putting his team's interests before his own. "Jack" has worked with us at Stop It Goaltending for at least eight years. And when I say "worked," I mean he busted his tail, and parlayed that work ethic into a chance to play for a solid New England prep school program.

By his sophomore year, Jack appeared to be on track to be the team's starter. But injuries, and the emergence of one of his goalie teammates, derailed that plan. By his senior year, he was resigned to a spot on the bench. Still, Jack continued to strap on his gear, every day, pushing his teammates in practice, making the team better. It paid off, and his squad made the New England prep school playoffs.

That's when Jack was confronted with a gut-wrenching decision. Sitting together in the locker room before the team's first playoff game, the starting goalie confided he had forgotten his skates. The kid was crestfallen, and presumed Jack would take his spot in the net. Jack, though, didn't blink. He knew that he and the starter wore the same skates, and the same size. He also knew the starter had earned this game.

So Jack gave up his skates, and watched as the starter led his team to a win. But I've never been more proud of Jack, and I'm sure his parents were as well. I'm guessing his teammates, and his coaches, felt the same.

More recently, the NCAA college football championship game served up another prime illustration of selflessness, and sportsmanship. Trailing Georgia at halftime, Alabama coach Nick Saban pulled long-term starter Jalen Hurts, a sophomore. Hurts entered the game having won 26 of 28 games over the past two seasons, but was benched after completing just three of eight first-half passes, replaced by freshman Tua Tagovailoa. And the freshman delivered, passing three second-half touchdowns, including the stunning game-winner in overtime.

But what grabbed my attention throughout the second half of the game, and in the celebration following Tagovailoa's heroics, was the dignity that Hurts displayed.

"As a team player, you have to do what's best for the team," Hurts told ESPN. "It was important for me to be true to myself and be the team leader I have always been. Don't change because of a little adversity."

Novelist James Lane Allen said: "Adversity does not build character, it reveals it." Hurts has character in abundance. That, more than his championship ring, makes him a winner. Just like "Jack." Just like Hobey Baker.

FINIS

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Parents, school officials must respect boundaries

Hi gang,

I'm revisiting a column that I wrote a year ago, because we're heading toward hockey playoffs, and tensions between parents, school officials, and coaches always seem to ratchet up this time of year. That's especially true in this case, when a parent who happened to be a school official (a superintendent, no less) went way over the line in disciplining his son's coach.

Hockey, and the dynamics surrounding the game, are complicated enough without a parent in position of power having a personal vendetta against a coach. There's simply a right way and a wrong way to handle disagreements. This is an example of the wrong way, by any standard that I know.

Let me know what you think! Best, -Brion

##

PARENTS, SCHOOL OFFICIALS MUST RESPECT BOUNDARIES

Sigh! Seems like every time I want to focus on a basic goaltending topic – from techniques to game preparation – something happens that pulls me in another direction. Recently, it was the suspension of Andover (Mass.) High School hockey coach Christopher Kuchar and two assistants for alleged mistreatment of their players.

Sheldon Berman, superintendent of Andover schools, took that action after saying Kuchar prohibited players from eating for 12 hours after a loss. That charge, on its face, was absurd (seeing the away game was, at most, only two hours from Andover). Berman said he was acting on complaints from parents, some who had contacted the state's Department of Children and Families.

Then the story gets really bizarre. Seems two years earlier, Berman wrote a memo to Andover Principal Philip Conrad and former Athletic Director Don Doucette, chastising Kuchar for the treatment of Berman's son, Dale. Obviously, I can't go into every detail of a six-page memo (yup, six pages!); it's easy enough to find it online. Suffice to say, Berman's memo is a classic example of parental overreach. Considering that it came from the superintendent of schools, addressed to two men who work for him, Berman's memo borders on egregious.

Dated March 28, 2016, Berman's memo starts: "I would like to express serious concerns about Coach Christopher Kuchar in his role as Head Coach of the Andover Ice Hockey Team. My concerns are twofold. On the one hand, I believe his coaching style is not one that is aligned with the larger interests of the Andover Public Schools. On the other hand, I believe his treatment of my son falls close to the category of abuse."

What followed was a six-page character assassination of Kuchar (and a bloated ode to Berman's son), ending with the superintendent recommending that Doucette fire the coach. "It is my belief that Andover would serve students far better with another coach," wrote Berman.

The memo, frankly, is mind-boggling. It's a particularly vile bit of skullduggery, because Berman sent it privately to two men who not only answer – directly or indirectly – to him, but also have a direct say in Kuchar's employment. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Some 40 Andover parents recently attended an Andover School Committee meeting looking for answers. According to published reports, Andover Selectman Bob Landry said the bigger issue wasn't the coaches, but Berman's questionable behavior.

"It is remarkable to me as a School Committee that you are ignoring the elephant in the room," Landry told committee members. "You have evidence now that the superintendent of schools wrote a six-page memo to two subordinates encouraging them to terminate the Andover High School hockey coach in clear retaliation for how he felt his own son had been treated. How that doesn't warrant an investigation by you immediately is beyond me."

The crowd applauded, but School Committee member Shannon Scully accused Landry of grandstanding.

"We can't entertain personnel matters in open meeting," she said. "This will be dealt with in executive session. If you don't mind getting off of your soap box that would be fantastic."

First, Ms. Scully, you CAN entertain personnel matters in an open meeting. This is a classic dodge that public boards use to avoid conducting public business publicly. There are exceptions that allow boards to meet in private, or "executive session." Here is the first one, per the state's Open Meeting Law Guide: "To discuss the reputation, character, physical condition or mental health, rather than professional competence, of an individual, or to discuss the discipline or dismissal of, or complaints or charges brought against, a public officer, employee, staff member or individual."

Note the phrase "rather than professional competence." Landry was specifically questioning Berman's professional competence. I agree. Berman was completely out of line with his memo. Now, you can say the " discipline or dismissal" phrase applies, but that doesn't prevent committee members from suggesting an open hearing with the coach and the superintendent. Did you ask, Ms. Scully?

If Kuchar or Berman decline, you then assure your constituents (yes, you work for them) that the full minutes of the "executive session" will be released once the issue is resolved, per state law. Your community deserves complete transparency.

Second, if you don't like people getting up on a soapbox, Ms. Scully, be more forthcoming. This isn't on Bob Landry. This is on the members of the Andover School Committee. Residents have every right to question whether the committee fully investigated Berman's memo. For it to come out in the press feeds that suspicion.

I've had this happen to me, though on a much smaller scale. I am an Old School coach who believes in working hard while we're on the ice. I owe that to my goalies, and to their parents and/or their program, who foot the bill. I also like having a good time. There's almost always a lot of laughter and good-natured ribbing during my sessions. My favorite students are those who can smile while working their tails off.

But I'm also the first to admit that my approach is not a one-size-fits-all. I welcome conversations with parents, especially if they think my style isn't working for their child. I can handle it. My only goal is to make sure my students gets the maximum out of their ability. Having fun is a close second, and important, but it's not my top priority. If that rankles a child, or parent, they need to talk to me, so I can understand what their priorities are. From there, I can adjust. But if parents take a backhanded approach, there's little I can do.

Two years ago, one of my bosses asked about a particular student. The young man had told his father that I made him feel bad about himself, and he didn't want to work with me. The father (who didn't attend the sessions) didn't contact me; he contacted my boss. When asked about the student, I answered honestly. I couldn't remember treating this young man any differently than any other student. I wasn't even sure what behavior I was answering for. But I was disappointed that neither the student nor his father brought their concerns to me.

Likewise, I'm a parent. My two daughters played varsity sports through high school, and my eldest continues to play collegiate volleyball. My wife (also a coach) and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye with the coaches that our girls have played for. But when we've had issues, we addressed them civilly, respectfully, and directly with their coaches. Not after games, or practices, but usually over coffee.

In short, it's okay if you don't agree with everything your child's coach does. But there's a right way to address those concerns. Don't do what Superintendent Berman did. That was the very definition of cowardice. He tried to leverage his position to oust a coach he didn't like. There's no place for that in youth hockey, or high school hockey. Berman, and the Andover School Committee and school officials, need to take a long, hard look in the mirror.

FINIS