Bouncing back - developing mental toughness is key

Tuukka Rask, your 2014 Vezina Trophy winner.

Hi gang,

I can't help but think that the timing of this post is somewhat serendipitous. In the spring of 2013, I wrote the following column for the New England Hockey Journal, before the end of the Stanley Cup playoffs. At the risk of bringing up bad memories for Boston Bruins fans, those playoffs ended badly for the Black and Gold, and their star goaltender, Tuukka Rask. The Chicago Blackhawks score two goals in the last two minutes to stun the Bruins in Game 6, and taking home Lord Stanley's Cup in the process.

It was a devastating loss for Rask and the Bruins, but the young Finnish netminder bounced back this past season, recently winning the Vezina Trophy as the NHL's top goaltender. It was more proof that Rask has got the mental toughness to not only play at the highest levels, but to be a champ. I'm glad he's in Boston. Let me know what you think of the column.

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Bouncing back - developing mental toughness is key

By the time you read this, the 2013 Stanley Cup will have been hoisted, and whether it was Chicago's Corey Crawford or Boston's Tuukka Rask celebrating, both goalies played huge roles in getting their teams to the final. Crawford not only rebounded from a disastrous 2012 playoffs, but also a less-than-stellar second round series against the Detroit Red Wings to backbone the Blackhawks when they knocked off the defending champion L.A. Kings.

Rask, though, was even better through the early rounds. After the Bruins miraculous comeback win over Toronto in Game 7 of the opening round, Rask settled down and was the major reason Boston jumped out to a 3-games-to-none lead over the New York Rangers. Then, in Game 4, with the Bruins holding a 2-0 lead, Tuukka had his fall-down-go-boom moment. Just 54 seconds after the Bruins went up 2-0, Rask appeared to catch an edge when moving right to left, stumbled and fell just as New York's Carl Hagelin threw a soft backhander on net. Rask, sitting on his backside, took a swipe at the puck but missed as it trickled over the line.

It was the kind of goal that gives goalies nightmares. Worse, Rask's gaffe opened the door for the Rangers, and the Blueshirts ultimately tied the game on a strike from Brian Boyle and won it on a deft redirection in overtime from Chris Kreider. And then the Boston media went bonkers (which, I understand, is a bit of a redundancy).

Fans, haunted by playoff disasters of the past, were besides themselves. Doubt crept into the collective mindset of Bruins Nation. After all, it was Rask who was in the Boston nets in 2010, when the Bruins pulled off an epic collapse against Philadelphia, blowing a 3-games-to-none lead (and a 3-0 lead in Game 7 at home) to lose the Eastern Conference finals. The nervous laughter was everywhere – "That couldn't happen again, could it?"

Adding fuel to the fire was that Rask has a history of histrionics. His talent is undeniable (the trade of Andrew Raycroft to Toronto for the young Finnish prospect in 2006 was one of the best by the Boston brass), but he hasn't always exhibited the requisite maturity to deal with bad goals, or losses. Don't believe me? Just Google "Tuukka Rask" and "temper tantrum" for a sampling.

But this is not Tuukka Rask circa 2010. He has grown up considerably in the past three years, harnessing all that fire and talent with a steely resiliency. Rask quieted the naysayers, providing air-tight goaltending in the Bruins series-clinching Game 5 win over New York. He then was absolutely lights out in the Eastern finals against the vaunted Penguins, stifling Pittsburgh's high-powered offense and allowing only two goals in four games. Which leads me to this month's topic; the importance of bouncing back from a bad goal.

Mental toughness has always been a hallmark of great goaltenders. Of course, for many, many years, they had to be tough, period, due to the ridiculously inadequate "protective" equipment goalies once wore. With the recent revolution in gear, goalies today don't face the same prospect of physical harm (though it still takes guts to stand in front of a 90 mile an hour slap shot). Which makes the mental game one of the key factors in determining just how good you're going to be.

Dealing with the pressure – the mental anguish – of goaltending is nothing new. In his 1973 classic, "Goaltending," the late, great Jacques Plante quoted another excellent netminder, Roger Crozier: "There is no way people will understand our particular kind of pressure. Anyone who isn't a goaltender probably won't experience once what we experience hundreds of times; even players don't know what the goalies go through in a game." Hall of Famer Tony Esposito was more succinct, calling it "plain torture."

It's not enough to simply develop a thick skin, and deflect any criticism that comes your way (justified or not). You have to be able to bounce back. "Oh, you'll goof once in a while – who doesn't – but try not to make a habit of it," said Plante in 1973. "You must firmly believe that you can stop every shot, or you'll never be an A-1 goalie."

Joe Bertagna, who is celebrating his 40th year of goalie coaching, wrote in 1976: "Russian Coach Anatoli Tarasov once said: 'The concept of courage must be identical to the word hockey player. There is simply no place in the game for cowards, squeamish or weak-willed people – there is simply no reason for such people to come out on the ice.'"

"If this is true for hockey players in general, it is even more so for goaltenders," wrote Bertagna.

That's because no goalie is perfect. Brian Daccord of Stop It Goaltending says the No. 1 rule of goaltending is that "you're going to give up goals." Of course, you try to make sure that your opponents "earn" their goals. But what about those howlers, the goals you should have had? What what enables a goaltender to bounce back from a bad goal? Start by forgiving yourself. Be secure in the knowledge that it's happened to every goaltender who has ever strapped on the pads.

"The first thing to realize is that simply because you have been scored upon doesn't mean the world has come to an end," wrote Fred Quistgard in 1996, in his book "Controlling the Crease: A Survival Guide for Modern Goaltenders" (you have to love that title). "If you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders each time your opponents score, you are taking the game too seriously. Put a goal in proper perspective. One goal doesn't signify a bad game unless you allow it to."

I really like Quistgard's advice. Hockey is still a game, and sometimes we forget that (OK, it's a job for Rask, but I'm talking about the other 98 percent of us). Lighten up. Coaches and parents should take note of that point as well. Don't forget that your response can either relieve or ratchet up the pressure on a goalie.

Meanwhile, goalies have to remember that what's done is done. Once a puck gets past you, it's in the past, and there's nothing you can do to change that. In game, I try to encourage my goalies not to let one bad goal lead to a second bad goal. Shake it off, and stay positive.

After the game, take stock. Bertagna recommends quiet, unemotional analysis of each goal, so you can evaluate what you might have done differently and make adjustments. Over time, you may begin to see a pattern, and then you can get to work to address those flaws. Work breeds confidence, which is really the key in handling the occasional bad goal. It's similar to a student who goes into finals well-prepared, compared to one who was up late the night before cramming, just "hoping" to do well. Self-assured goalies are less likely to get rattled.

"Confidence, that's the key to goaltending," said Daccord. "You got to feel like you're going to stop the puck. You can't be worried about letting in a goal, you have to be thinking about stopping the puck."

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Measuring a man's heart

Hi gang,

Here's my August column for The Goalie Guru in the New England Hockey Journal. After the amazing championship run by Tim Thomas and the Boston Bruins this past spring, I took some time to reflect on this remarkable competitor.

THERE'S NO WAY TO MEASURE HEART

No one, it seems, has a lukewarm opinion about Bruin's goaltender Tim Thomas. For some reason, the NHL's reigning Vezina Trophy winner as the league's best goaltender elicits strong opinions, and not all of them are kind.

People either love or hate the acrobatic netminder from Flint, Michigan. I can understand why folks enjoy watching the 37-year-old perform his game-time acts of legerdemain. The ones I can't figure out are those who ridicule Thomas, calling him undisciplined, unpredictable, or mocking his dietary habits with taunts of "Tubby." Who are these people?

It's easy to dismiss the bandwagon-jumping, pink hat fans who derided Thomas when, a year removed from his first Vezina campaign in 2008-09, muddled through a middling 2009-10 campaign. Thomas and the Bruins prevailed in the Winter Classic at Fenway Park that year, but by season's end, young Tuukka Rask, Thomas's fabulous Finnish understudy, had become the darling of the know-it-all set.

But even during his remarkable bounce-back 2010-11 season, Thomas had serious detractors among hockey's cognoscenti, people who supposedly are intimately familiar not only with the game, but also the singular position of goaltending. Many goalies, and goalie coaches, sniffed at the media for heaping praise on Thomas, arguing that most ink-stained wretches don't really know the game, or that Thomas benefits from a strong defense that specializes in keeping opponent shots to the outside. They delight in the occasional howler that Thomas gives up, conveniently forgetting that almost every goalie does the same.

Even among my coaching colleagues, Thomas is the guy that drives almost everyone nuts. The reasons why were eerily similar to those that kept Thomas from breaking through the NHL barrier in the first place. He's not a cookie-cutter stylist like the New York Rangers' Henrik Lundqvist. In fact, Thomas's style was a distinct absence of style. To say that Thomas is unconventional is pure overstatement. While we typically teach a calm, compact approach, Thomas is all frenetic energy, with flailing arms and legs and stick.

But there is a method to Thomas's goalmouth madness. He plays the game organically, with an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time, a sure sign that he can read the play. His lateral quickness is extraordinary, perhaps better than anyone playing the game right now. In a game predicated on getting the goalie to move, in order to open up net, Thomas's knack to get centered on the puck at the precise moment the shot arrives is exceptional.

But that hasn't stopped his detractors. Thomas can't skate, they said. He's a hot head. He's too erratic. Through all the criticism, Thomas never once stopped believing in himself, and that proved contagious, to his teammates, and to many fans.

I've always rooted for Thomas. Maybe that's because I've always been a fan of the underdog, and Thomas's tortuous road to NHL stardom certainly qualifies him for the role. More than anything, I love the guy's heart. Did I have him pegged as an NHL All-Star when he was toiling away for the Providence Bruins? Not a chance. But I can honestly say, with a straight face and my hand on a stack of Bibles, that I liked him. A lot.

The guy simply won everywhere he's played. Why are people so quick to overlook that fact? He won at the University of Vermont, he won as a minor leaguer, he won in Finland, and he won in the best league on the planet. He did it with a frenetic, scrambling style that stymied shooters as often as it stressed coaches and GMs. And he did it with his heart on his sleeve, a heart that drove him to reach levels that his physical gifts couldn't reach alone.

As a kid growing up in New Jersey, I always found myself cheering for goalies who overcame long odds, and did it with a pugnacious nature. New York Ranger Hall of Famer Eddie Giacomin was told to give up the sport as a youngster after he suffered serious burns in a kitchen accident (in the days of the Original Six, with only a half-dozen goalie spots in the entire NHL). Battlin' Billy Smith, one of the original New York Islanders who also ended up in the Hall, endured brutal expansion seasons but hung tough to become the backbone of the four-time Stanley Cup champs.

Plus, what a lot of naysayers fail to appreciate about Thomas is that, despite the chaos that surrounds his net, the puck rarely winds up in it. Does Thomas give up some bad goals? No question. In fact, he's given up some brutal tallies as recently as the Montreal series this past spring. When he did, Thomas's critics were quick to pounce. And, just like he's done all his life, Thomas shut them up, not with barbed retorts or snarky Twitter postings, but with his play between the pipes.

Not surprisingly, the majority of the hockey press was effusive in its praise of Thomas. NHL goalies Marty Turco and Kevin Weekes raved about his playoff performance. The following nugget, by my friend James Murphy of ESPNBoston, captures Thomas, and his 2010-11 season succinctly and fittingly.

"What Thomas was able to accomplish this past season after having off-season hip surgery and being peddled around the trade rumor circuit is simply amazing" wrote Murphy in his season recap, in which he gave Thomas an A+ grade. "Always one to thrive off adversity, Thomas persevered again and this time his perseverance rubbed off on his teammates, who took on the identity of one of the most resilient teams in recent memory. Thomas was 35-11-9 with and led the NHL in GAA (2.00), save percentage (.938) and had nine shutouts in the regular season.

"But Thomas was far from done, as he just got better when the playoffs arrived and was clutch for the Bruins, even as some in the media and a certain opposing goalie questioned his style. He was 16-9 with a 1.98 GAA, .940 save percentage and led the NHL in playoff shutouts with four. Just as he did in the regular season on so many occasions, Thomas put the team on his back and took them all the way to the Cup."

Watching Thomas hoist the Cup, and the Conn Smythe Trophy as playoff MVP, was indeed one of the most satisfying things I've witnessed in my 45 years of hockey. His second Vezina Trophy, which he received a week later in Las Vegas, was sweet frosting on the cake. Oh, and did I mention his two ESPY's for Best NHL Player and Best Championship Performance?

Murphy chose the word "perseverance," but I prefer "desire." Thomas, through sheer heart and determination, willed himself into an NHL caliber goaltender, and a Stanley Cup champion. He did it with a steely resolve that overcame incredible odds, constant rejection and career-threatening hip surgery (which, I have to add, he never once used as an excuse!).

That's how he plays the game. The key to Thomas's performance lies in his passion. He is a relentless competitor who simply doesn't quit. Ever. Many aspiring goaltenders think they have that trait, but it's rare. And it's almost impossible to teach.

This past month, while coaching with Stop It Goaltending at Merrimack College, I watched a young Casey DeSmith, who is heading to the University of New Hampshire, make a near-impossible save during our "game time." These end-of-practice contests pit shooters against goalies, usually 4-on-4, with no defense. Shooters can fire away at any net. Left stranded by a cross-ice pass, with a shooter looking at a wide-open net, DeSmith dug in and flew across the net, blocking the shot.

"That was a heck of a save," I told DeSmith. "It was lucky," he replied, smiling. "No, it wasn't," I said, "You might have been lucky to get a piece of it, but there was nothing lucky at all about the effort. Nine goalies out of 10 wouldn't have done that. Tim Thomas would be proud."

DeSmith just laughed. He probably had no idea that, in my book, there's no greater compliment.

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