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.

##

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.

##

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

Coaches can never forget they're teachers first

Clear communication is a key to good coaching.

Hi gang,

Happy Tax Day! Nothing like the thought of Uncle Sam reaching deep into my wallet to motivate me to find a healthy distraction. So, instead, I thought I'd concentrate on something I can feel good about, which often brings me back to hockey.

For the most part, hockey has always been a great outlet for me, whether I'm playing, coaching, or simply watching. It's a sport that I can literally immerse myself in, which allows me an escape from life's little day-to-day headaches. For me, the best part of a team sport is sharing experiences, that interaction with the other players. And that's all about communication. On the coaching side, it means teaching. Which brings me to this month's topic. Let me know what you think ...

##

Coaches can never forget they're teachers, first and foremost

Mom always used to say, "There's a right way and a wrong way to do things." Pretty simple advice, which is often the best advice. There's definitely a right way, and a wrong way, to coach young hockey players, and especially goalies. For the most part, it boils down to communication.

With the explosion of youth hockey, there are more and more teams, and subsequently the need for more and more coaches. Many are qualified. Many aren't. To some degree, it's a numbers game. But I've seen a raft of former players filling these spots, with mixed results. Just because you could play, doesn't automatically mean you can coach.

The best case I can recall comes from the National Basketball League, with Larry Bird. Even though Bird was successful, it was painfully obvious that he didn't always have the patience necessary to deal with players who didn't grasp the game as quickly as he did. The same disconnect frustrated Wayne Gretzky during his tenure in Phoenix.

Obviously, it's one thing to be able to do something, and another thing altogether to be able to convey how to do that particular something to someone else. The key is being able to communicate. Sadly, though, communication has become something of a lost art. I've seen it repeatedly, observing countless youth hockey and high school games. Coaches, arms crossed, exhorting their players without actually taking the time (and effort) to teach them. It makes me wonder why they're coaching.

Remember why you took the job (realizing, for most of us, it's not a "job" as much as a calling). Was it all about wins and losses, or was it about helping kids improve? That's what you need to focus on. If you do that, the wins and losses will take care of themselves. But player development has to be your No. 1 priority.

Think about this scenario. I've watched a coach leave the rink following a loss without saying a word to a team of 13- and 14-year-olds. This is not coaching. It's pouting. What does this "teach" your players? Instead, you run the risk of a bunch of boys or girls looking around at each other and thinking, "Well, I guess coach doesn't care." Now, I understand, and even appreciate, that the coach might be upset, but the coach also has to remember who the adult is in this equation.

Likewise, screaming at your players from the bench to "work harder" has a limited application. Even if you're right, there's usually more at issue than just effort. Often at the Squirt, Pee Wee and Bantam levels, the players need instruction. You need to be able to explain, in the moment, what happened, what a player did wrong, and what that player should have done instead. You need to teach. And you need to do it right then and there, when the play is still fresh in the player's mind. In many ways, it's the coach who has to "work harder."

In the same vein, telling the goalie to "stop the puck" is meaningless. I mean, d'uh! Every goalie I've ever worked with, over nearly two decades of coaching, knows that's the job. Stop the puck. But as young goalies develop, they're going to make mistakes, and it's the coaches job to catalog those mistakes and help them correct them.

This is the teaching component. Firing a ton of pucks at your goalies isn't going to improve their technique. In fact, it's likely to increase the number of flaws in their game. If you don't have a goaltending background, learn the basics, and be able to demonstrate. There are a number of first-rate instructional books on the market (the more current, the better) that will provide this working knowledge.

If you juggle the line-up, or replace the starting goalie, explain to your players about why you made that decision. Don't make them guess. Whether your team is playing at the squirt level, high school, or above, players deserve to know. Asking a child to interpret why they were demoted is just unfair. That's when a lot of wayward notions can come into play, things like, "The coach doesn't like me," or "The coach is playing favorites." That's not cultivating team chemistry.

Finally, some coaches implement a "No parents" rule, meaning any communication has to come from the kids. I understand why, especially in this day and age of helicopter parents. But I don't agree. First, the coach/player dynamic is completely skewed against the child. Second, coaches ought to be able to discuss the rationale behind their decisions with another adult.

Coaches who are unwilling to talk to a parent are shirking their duty. Period. Whether a paid position or volunteer, coaching is a privilege, and carries certain responsibilities. And if your players are high school age or younger, you need to engage the parents.

How do you make your players better? You need to teach.

# # #

MAIL BAG

One of the best parts of my work, as a coach and columnist, is being able to help out parents, coaches, and their goalies. Here's a recent letter that depicts a classic dilemma for many goalie parents.

The letter: My 11-year-old son is a strong AAA goalie on a mediocre team. He averages approximately 20-25 shots a game, and over 30 shots when he plays against the two top teams. He is currently a difference maker in his games but they tend to lose more than win and can’t really compete with top teams in the area. Lately he has been receiving a lot of serious interest from these top teams who think he could be the missing piece to their already power house organizations. These teams are claiming he will develop into a better goaltender through practice, training and competing against the other top-level teams. However, these teams don't allow many shots in a game as they are so structured defensively. My question is, should I leave him where he is or take him to one of these top teams? Where will he develop the most?

My reply: This is a great question. Your son is lucky that you're advocating on his behalf. The answer, though, is complicated. Many teams just want a better goalie because they want to win, and aren't genuinely concerned about goalie "development." I'm not saying that's the case here, but you want to be aware of the possibility. Getting more shots in a game is a good thing, provided your son isn't getting discouraged. Here are a few things to consider:

1) What is the quality of practice/coaching he's getting now? Will it improve with another team? It's been my experience that select teams don't automatically mean better coaching, though many select teams will bring in goalie coaches, which is a plus.

2) What is the quality of shots he's seeing now? Will he see better shots with a select team? Better shots, not necessarily more, make a better goalie.

3) A better team will arguably provide better shots in practice. And practice is really where ALL players, including the goalies, improve.

Bottom line, it's not just the number of shots in a game. It's the quality of shots in games and practices, and the quality of coaching. I'd take all of those into account before making your decision. Good luck!

FINIS

Toughen up!

Trash talk, anyone? Blackhawks goalie Nikolai Khabibulin,
right, has a pregame chat with Lightning goalie Sean
Burke a few years back at the St. Pete Times Forum.

Hi gang,

Apologies for the delay in getting a new post up. Shoveling eight feet of snow will definitely throw a wrench into the weekly schedule. The following is one of my more "controversial" columns, because it really ticked off a colleague. And I guess that's the point of the column.

It wasn't my intention to upset or needle anyone. Honest. Instead, the idea of the column was to explain how, after a lifetime of playing between the pipes, I've learned to ignore trash talk. Usually, anyway. We all have bad days when the wrong comment sets us off. But, for the most part, I let trash talk slide off me like I was Teflon. Because, in hockey, trash talk is part of the game. At almost every level. If you let it get the better of you, your oponents get an advantage. And I wasn't going to give them that satisfaction.

##

Toughen up – Goalies need to develop a thick skin

During the holiday break, I found myself in the midst of a fun little Facebook exchange that somehow went off the rails. Well, I thought it was fun. Apparently, the sometimes colleague I was bantering with – I'll call him Barney, to protect the guilty and innocent alike – didn't take kindly to my comments.

So I'll let you decide (not that there's any "right" or "wrong"). A second colleague posted a terrific photo of himself and Barney enjoying an outdoor game at Boston's Fenway Park. Here are the pertinent comments, edited only for brevity:

Me: "That's great, guys! I'll be there next time. And tell Barney to get a bigger jersey! Ha ha!"

Barney: "Brion, I asked for a bigger one, but since your ego wasn't going to be attending, they didn't order any XXLs."

Me: "Ho ho, Barney ... I believe they had goalie jerseys. Those should have done the job (maybe)!"

Barney: "They didn't. But hey, this has been a delightful reminder of why we're not actually friends on here anymore. Always glad to get a refresher."

Me: "Barney, how did you ever survive in a hockey locker room? It's all in good fun, my friend. Really ... try not to let your own ego get in the way. You'll laugh more!"

Barney: "Don't you have a cloying column to write about how kids should be nice to each other and respect the game? Been a while since I 'read' one of those."

Me: "Nice try, Barney. Really, you need to lighten up. Good-natured ribbing is a great hockey tradition ... Anyone who actually played the game knows that."

And that was pretty much it; nothing worthy of Don Rickles (or, for younger readers, Bill Burr or Kevin Hart). I hardly gave it a second thought.

The exchange ended with my sometimes colleague sending me a private message, saying I was the exit point of the gastrointestinal tract. I laughed. I've been called worse by better. Plus, I just didn't see the big deal (which, I suppose, was his point). Barney's major complaint was that Facebook was a "public" venue, and that his family and friends could see my posts. Um, OK. My personal approach to Facebook is to avoid taking anything on it too personally, and I didn't find anything remotely hurtful in my comments (or Barney's), and still can't. Sophomoric? Probably. But mean-spirited? Not at all. Maybe that's just me.

But the exchange got me thinking about why I could shrug off Barney's comments, while others might take similar comments personally. That brought me back to his comment, "Don't you have a cloying column to write about how kids should be nice to each other and respect the game?" So that's what I'm doing, since there's a lesson here.

I do advocate respect. Like hard work and accountability, respect is one of the game's founding principles. So is having fun. There's a certain amount of good-natured teasing and trash talk that makes the game so entertaining. Why do we love "Slapshot," hockey's seminal movie? Because playwright Nancy Dowd absolutely nailed the sarcastic and often edgy wordplay between teammates, and opponents.

Now, in some circles, this might be called bullying. I get it. I'm a parent, and my daughter played co-ed hockey through 8th grade. Believe me, she's heard some pretty nasty stuff. Last year, when one young man called my daughter something particularly egregious during a goal-mouth scrum, she yelled: "Go ahead, tell the ref what you called me." It was brilliant. The ref inquired, the kid confessed, and sat for a 5-minute unsportsmanlike penalty. Then he had to explain it to his coach.

For the most part, though, wisecracking repartee is gamesmanship. As long as that banter stays within socially acceptable bounds, I'm perfectly fine with it. There's a big difference between bullying and agitating.

What's more, goalies have to deal with it. Opponents will try to get under your skin any way they can, and that part of the game isn't going away. They might bump you, snow you, or say nasty things about you. This happens to every player, and it happens in almost every sporting competition (including such "gentlemanly" pursuits as golf and tennis).

Take NFL cornerbacks, those tough-but-undersized defenders with oversized egos compressed into smaller frames. Trash talk is their stock in trade. It might unnerve rookies or untested players, but the response I really enjoy seeing is when a veteran receiver simply smiles at them.

That's a goalie's best option, too. Laugh it off. It's not always easy, and I'm not suggesting it comes naturally. You might have to work at developing that bulletproof veneer. But it's your best defense. When an opponent gets in your grill, and starts woofing, just smile, and remind him (or her) that you're not going anywhere. You can't go crying to your teammates, your coaches, or your parents. You need to be tough. Mentally tough.

Sports psychologist Saul Miller also talks about being emotionally tough. With a position as demanding as goaltending, "you either love the challenge, or fear the challenge," says Miller. Opponents will prey on those fears, using trash talk to drive an emotional wedge between you and the task at hand. Ignore them, so you can focus on stopping the puck.

Of course, you can always chirp back, but you better be ready to back it up. I personally believe it's in a goalie's best interests to keep trash talk to a minimum, since our job is tough enough. The last thing a goalie needs to do is start yapping at other players, especially in a game. It's the quickest way I know of to get a puck fired at your melon.

I recall an opposing goalie in high school, from a top-ranked team, making disparaging remarks about my gear during warm-ups (there was nothing wrong with my pads, but they admittedly weren't the latest and greatest). I told him to come talk to me afterward. But my teammates heard him, and got fired up. Our squad – which wasn't very good that year – battled to a 2-2 tie, knocking Mr. Wise Guy and his team out of first place. I'll never forget it, because the guy didn’t have anything to say after the game. Not … one … word.

Neither did I, as much as I wanted to, other than "nice game" in the handshake line. That's the respect part of the game. We stole a point, and I was happy with that. But my teammates were happy to taunt me afterward, reminding me of the two shots that hit the posts, and another bound for an open net that my defense blocked.

I laughed along with them. They were right. It was a game we had no right being in, but we had Lady Luck on our side. I told my teammates it was karma, and the hockey gods were scolding a derisive opponent. They told me I was full of it, and they were right. That year, like I said, was a long one, with few highlights. But it made me tough, and taught me to laugh at myself. That's served me well, not only as a hockey player but also in life, as a coach, a journalist, and even as a parent.

Hope that doesn't sound too cloying.

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

Welcome home ... !!!

Hi gang,

By and large, Boston sports fans enjoy the reputation of being among the most passionate and most knowledgeable sports fans on the planet. It's a well-deserved reputation for most diehard Hub fans (not those bandwagon-jumping, Johnny-come-lately pink hats that show up every time one of our teams goes deep into the playoffs!). That hard-core fan status was never more evident than one day this past August, during my coaching sessions with Stop It Goaltending at Merrimack College.

Again this summer, I had the chance to work with Cory Schneider, the Marblehead native and former Phillips Andover/Boston College goaltender who now plies his trade for the Vancouver Canucks. Schneider has worked closely over the yeas with Brian Daccord, who owns Stop it Goaltending. This spring, he got some quality minutes during the Stanley Cup playoffs, and acquitted himself well, especially in the finals against the hometown Boston Bruins. No surprise there.

Schneider was and is a tremendous young goaltender, a guy who has continually honed his game throughout his amateur and now professional career. He's patient, which you need to be when playing behind a $6-million goalie like Roberto Luongo. He's also a genuinely good guy -- dedicated, articulate, humble, hard-working, and good-natured. That last trait came in handy one day this summer, during one of our camp's normal end-of-practice "game time" sessions.

Schneider was working out with our older college goalies, sharpening his game after a brief respite that followed a long, long season (making it to Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals meant Schneider's season lasted well into June). During these afternoon sessions, our Stop It counselors (who are campers themselves, typically older high school or college-age guys) would bring a number of the younger campers to watch the "big boys" play. I love this concept, because it gives these youngsters -- even the most cocky of the bunch -- a chance to see how much better they could be, if they keep at it.

On this particular afternoon, the counselor shepherding the kids was a young guy buy the name of David Cunningham, who played at Belmont Hill and was angling toward a possible Division 1 scholarship. Cunningham is an Arlington kid, competitive as all get out, but with a mischievous sense of humor. As we wrapped up our drills on the ice, Cunningham positioned his fuzzy-cheeked charges in a corner of the Merrimack College stands by one net. Which happened to be the net that Schneider occupied.

Our "game time" is a chance for our shooters -- mostly D-1 guys and young pros -- to stretch their legs a bit after each session. It usually features four nets and four goalies in the offensive zone, and three or four shooters firing at any net, needing to score four goals in 40 seconds to win each "game." If the goalies allow fewer than four goals, they win. Depending on how much time we have left, we usually try to squeeze in a 7-game series.

So for the first game on this particular day, we asked four goalies to jump in the nets. Schneider, showing one of the reasons why he's so good, jumps right up and takes a net by the corner. Next to all the young kids. And how do they show their love for the local guy? By chanting. But not the chant you might expect. The kids in the stands, maybe a couple dozen of them, start serenading Schneider with the classic Boston Garden mantra, "Let's go, Bruins! Let's go, Bruins!"

I started laughing so hard, I just about fell over. In fact, everyone began  howling. When I looked at Schneider, I could see Cory was rolling his eyes, getting a good laugh as well. Schneider might be the local guy, but these kids weren't going to let him forget where their true allegiances were.

To cap it off, the goalies won the "game," shutting down the shooters. As he left his goal, Schneider tapped the glass, letting the kids know that the Bruins might have won the war last spring, but he just won this little skirmish. And they could expect to hear more from him in the years ahead. It was a perfect hockey moment, equal parts competitive and jovial. Just a wonderful snapshot from a great summer on the ice.