Got puck? Loving the outdoor game in the Great White North

Hey gang,

It's been a while since I've posted, thanks to hip surgery and a ton of deadlines (and too much time spent shoveling, and playing around on Facebook). However, I encouraged my good buddy Ken Tarr to write up a quick report about a very cool outdoor hockey tournament (real hockey, not pond hockey) that he recently participated in up in Quebec through Stinky Socks Hockey.

Fortunately for Ken, he has a day job (as some sort of corporate spy for a giant computer company, which I'm not allowed to mention by name), and doesn't have to rely on his writing skills to make a living. The accompanying photo shows Ken "in action" at the tournament, which, seeing his team won, probably is pretty indicative of how busy he was the entire time. Suffice to say, the owners of the cars behind him probably didn't have to worry about any pucks breaking any windshields. But that's just my assumption. Here, in Ken's own words (with just a few editorial notes for clarification, in RED), is the tale of his adventure to the Old Country ... I'm grateful for the contribution!

Old-time Hockey in the Old Country
by Ken "Tail Light" Tarr

The trip started off fantastic, with my meeting the team on the bus at at TSR Hockey in Salem, NH. The guys were great, and I quickly realized we were going to have a great time on this trip, and maybe even play some hockey too. Most of the guys were in their early to mid-20s, but there were a few "closer" to me at 28 and 29 ... one guy was even married, too (though Ken reportedly did not admit that the married guy was, in fact, HIM)!

Crossing the border into Canada proved as easy as always (it's when you try to come back that they screw with you!), and we arrived at Mont Tremblanc on schedule at 5 pm. After a ridiculously quick check-in to the 5-bedroom condo assigned to our team, we were off to the village for some pre-tournament festivities.

Found a great pub which brewed its own beer and I quickly felt at home (confirming the rampant rumors that Ken does, in fact, live in a bar). After many refreshments at our next stop, le Petit Caribou, where I observed a mural on the ceiling of my favorite Nova Scotia brew "Alexander Keith's India Pale Ale," I wasn't quite sure I'd be able to play in the morning.

Fortunately for me, the guys -- the Lucky Dawgs -- proved to be the best I've ever had the privilege to play with (we're presuming Ken is still talking about hockey here) and we dominated our Saturday opponents 6-2 and 8-2 respectively, where I saw a combined 15-20 shots over both games (despite repeated attempts, I have not been able to get any confirmation that Ken saw any shots at all in these two games, except the four that got by him!). With the championship game coming Sunday, I decided to forgo the "refreshments" and held myself to a mere three beers for the day.

Just because I was holding back on the refreshments did not mean I was about to spend the night in bed. I did not come to Quebec to sit on the couch and nod off watching football. A few of the guys and I went out to a local bar which sported an authentic native Tee-Pee in the back yard. I must say, sitting around the camp-fire in the freezing cold nursing a beer was pretty damned cool (I believe Ken is confusing "cool" with "cold," but we need to cut him some slack, since English is his second language!).

Waking up at 6 a.m. to the sound of someone shoveling the night's snow off the condo stairs, I took my thyroid pill (Grave's disease - another story) and went back to sleep. Hearing the alarm at 8 a.m., I quickly sat up and called my daughter at home to wish her a happy 5th birthday. That sweet little girl answered the phone "Hello Daddy. Are you calling to wish me a happy birthday?" Of which I replied "Yes, sweetie!" Then she asked me to win the trophy for her - how could I disappoint that little angel? (Ken then reminded his daughter that she was late for her shift behind the bar, and to get to work!)

Going easy on the refreshments the night before proved to be a wise decision as the local Canadian team was a much tougher challenge than our first two opponents (which means they showed up). With the rink being outdoors, and the game being played at 10 a.m., the sun looked like it might provide a distinct advantage to us in periods 1 and 3 as I guessed the goalie wouldn't be able to see much due to the glare. Being the competitor (and engineering geek) I am, I quickly pointed this out to my teammates (who ignored him). I told them to shoot from everywhere and get a quick lead as the goalie will be blinded, and also to not blame me for any "weak" 2nd period goals.

After one, although our boys outplayed the Canucks, we were all tied at 0-0 (confirming, one, that his team wasn't listening to him, and two, that the other goalie didn't get the memo about the sun being some weak-ass excuse!). Early in the second, we caught a break on a power play when a routine slap shot was deflected by a Canadian defenseman's chest into the net (we have confirmed through a reliable source that Ken offered to massage the wounded defensman's injury, but was rebuffed). One thing was clear, their goalie spoke fluent English, as I could hear him screaming at his D-man to get the "F" out of his crease from my end of the ice (clearly, Ken's ears were the only part of his body to get any kind of a workout!).

We scored again a few minutes later and it appeared all was well in hand. A loose puck in front of our end somehow slipped past me as I tried to tie it up (after the guys rudely woke Ken up from his mid-game nap) and our lead was cut to 2-1.

The third started off with us up 4-1 and talking about what we were all going to do after the game, when the voice of reason -- this time not my own (now there's a news flash) -- told us to take care of the last 20 minutes first. The Canadians were not going down without a fight (unlike their French ancestors) and poured on the offense during the final stanza (despite the sun being in their eyes). A break coming in on my right side resulted in a slapshot that I deflected to the corner with the edge of my blocker (when you see three shots a game, it's easy to remember each one in this kind of detail). A minute later, a similar play resulted in them trying the other side, but my glove was also up to the test - game still 4-1 for the Lucky Dawgs.

With less than 1 minute remaining, a 2-on-0 break left us up 4-2 (by this I'm pretty sure that it was Ken's own two defensemen, who were passing the puck between them when it bounced behind a startled and half-asleep Tarr), which is how the Championship would end. A team photo and also one with us and the Canadian team would be all that was remaining of the tournament.

With the official games over, me and the boys were far from finished. We stayed on the ice for at least another hour having a shoot-out tournament where the loser had to buy a round later that evening. This "old man" was more than up to that challenge (since he didn't see any shots during the championship game), holding the kids to zero goals on their first 10 attempts.
Then however, fatigue set in (after Ken worked up his first sweat of the weekend) and the goals started coming. Once the shoot-out was finished, we played 4-on-4, then 3-on-3, etc. as the guys started to peel off one by one.

Not wanting this to end, I was begging anyone with a stick to join us for some more fun (What?!). We had one of the Canadian players and the ref join us for a little while, but eventually all good things must end.

Turns out that most bars are not open on Sundays (again, we have not been able to verify this rumor!), but with the influx of New Englanders wanting a nice place to watch the big game, a local bar opened just for us! (Translation? They broke in) Although the outcome was not exactly as we had all planned (Jets 28, Patriots 24), we all had a great time and were looking forward to heading home the next day.

Monday a.m. came all too quickly for us, but again this Canadian was not quite ready to call the trip over (since he's a Socialist, Ken believes everyone should only work 100 days a year, max). After quickly packing my bags, and draining the fridge of the remaining two bottles of refreshment (I suspect Ken has some kind of Tourette's Syndrome, where he keeps replacing the word "beer" with "refreshment") - to the "amazement/confusion" of my younger hungover teammates, I took orders for the "convenience" store. This store was anything but convenient. At approximately two miles down the steep mountain hill, in freezing temperatures, I felt the need for more refreshments outweighed the daunting stroll.

As I departed the condo, all I said to my semi-conscious teammates was "What, haven't you ever partied with a Canadian before?" (Of course, Ken conveniently neglected to mention that the condo was locked when he returned! He is still hoping to get home one of these days, and keeps asking me to take up a collection for his bus fare back to the States. And I keep telling him I'm working on it!) ...

Motivation, Part 2 ...

The hockey community is a small one. That goes double for goalie coaches. We're a tight-knit group that epitomizes the classic quote from Frank "Ulcers" McCool: "The only friend a goalie has is the other goalie across the ice. He's the only one who understands."

The lot of the goalie isn't as bad as it was back in McCool's day (the mid-1940s), but it's a given that goalies are a different breed. Same for goalie coaches. If you were to eavesdrop on a bunch of goalie coaches discussing the position, in the most excruciating detail, you'd probably think you'd just stumbled into a geek convention. But that's what the post-practice gab sessions were like at the Prospects Camp I worked at this past summer (attended by such promising young netminders as Cody Reichard of Miami university, shown in the accompanying photo). Run by Brian Daccord of Stop It Goaltending, the camp is a remarkable collection of talented young goaltenders, and talented coaches, from throughout North America and even Europe.

The common denominator is that we care. We care about the game, the position, and the kids who choose to play the position. Provided they care as well. That's all we ask. As an example, here's a cyber-chat I had with my friend Magnus Olsson, a certified goalie instructor from Sweden (there is some debate about the validity of Magnus's "certification," but that's a subject for another post). It gets back to the topic of motivation, and what our role is as coaches. I think it serves as a good illustration of how we don't leave our jobs "at the rink."

MAGNUS: I have a bit of a problem. I tend to see many young goalies (ages 10-12) not being very passionate in practice. They seem to like being on the ice but they don't try very hard. They don't fight for the rebound, go for desperation saves and things like that. SOME of them do, but these guys are rare. I do try to put in some parts of fun stuff and also competition to get the drive and intensity. Still I just find many youngsters not trying hard enough?!

I'm well aware that it's about having fun at this age and that's what we try to do, but at the same time you need to put in some technical parts and serious training ... What are your thoughts on this? Have you seen the same problems where you coach?

BRION: Hey Magnus, This is a great question, because I think at this age, you quickly find out who REALLY wants to play goal, and who is just pretending. Too many young kids like the gear and the look of being a goalie, but when they find out how difficult it is (and how hard the puck is!), they quickly lose their enthusiasm. And that tells me their enthusiasm was misplaced to begin with.

The first question I'd ask is, how often are they playing? If they're on the ice year-round, you might be seeing early signs of burn-out. But if it's in-season, and they're only skating two-three times a week, then they're just not hungry enough. For these kids, I take the "tough love" approach. I always try to keep it fun for kids in this age group, but I really reward effort, and mildly scold them when they mail it in. This works really well in a group dynamic, when I can point out other kids who always give their best. "Those are the kids who will get the ice time," I tell them.

I've had some kids, now 12 and 13, who have never given their best effort, and never gotten close to their potential, even after three years. Eventually, I just let them do what they want, and tell "good luck," because they're not going anywhere. I'm not a parent to these kids ... and I honestly believe that their lack of effort is a reflection of the expectations that their parents have at home.

I find I have limited energy (especially at my age!), and I prefer to give that energy to the kids who really try. That bothered me at first, but I've come to accept it, after more than 15 years of coaching. When a parent asks, I tell them as politely and as straightforward as possible: "Your child doesn't work hard enough. And that starts at home. He doesn't come prepared, or ready to work."

Anyway, Magnus, it's clearly a topic that hits a nerve for me. I think too many kids are too soft today (remember Reggie Lemelin talking about "competing" for a starting spot? Too many kids today don't know what it means to REALLY compete. They just expect to play, because Mommy and Daddy paid for their ice time). Would be happy to discuss further.

MAGNUS: I agree with you, Brion. We share similar stories. I have a few kids from a few years back but it feels like I'm wasting my time with them. I have been trying and trying to make them practice hard and change them. But now I've had enough. I was very relieved when I read about you letting them practice and that but you put your energy to the hard working guys.
Earlier I felt bad for not staying with a "soft" kid but now I realize I kind of have to let them go a little bit. Thanks again for your comments.

BRION: The key, I think, is to cut off your emotional commitment before you get angry with the kid. I love the game, and the position, so much, and had so little formal training when I was young, that I can't stand to see kids who take it for granted. I would have given up my pinky fingers to attend a Prospects Camp, and I played every time there was ice available. And I love the kids who reflect that same passion. But not everyone has it, Magnus. So I allow myself to gravitate to the kids who really want it.

And if other kids are going to just go through the motions, I won't invest my time and emotional capital. Like I said earlier, I just don't have enough of either to waste them on kids who don't care. I know that sounds harsh, but I think kids have to earn your commitment (even though you're getting paid). If they don't, I need to let them slide (for sanity's sake!) ... ;-)

Best,
-Brion

Motivation, Part 1 ...

One of the most popular questions I get from parents of prospective young netminders is this: "How do I know my kid will want to play goalie?" It's a fair question, especially given the costs associated with outfitting a young keeper (see previous post). My standard reply is simple: "Oh, don't worry. They'll let you know."

It's a concise answer, but one with a broad interpretation. I'm not trying to be clever or coy. I really believe that kids, especially really young kids, will be the first to tell Mom and Dad that they'd rather not play between the pipes, once they find out how hard it is. Today's top-notch goaltenders, whether high school, juniors, college or pro, make the position seem so effortless that kids who watch them, and are enamored with all the cool gear, think it's going to be a snap for them as well. What they rarely comprehend, at least initially, is the hundreds if not thousands of hours of training required to make those movements appear so "effortless."

It's not unlike regular players, who immediately start looking for the pucks the minute they hit the ice. There is undeniably a magical quality to pucks; Kids want to stickhandle and shoot early, late, and every moment in between. The problem is, in a hockey game, players are likely to have the puck on their stick only a fraction of the time. And if they can't skate, they'll see the puck even less, because they won't be able to keep up with the play. Skating is the bedrock foundation of this game, and the better players almost intuitively understand that skating drills, without pucks, are necessary to improve their overall skills.

Similarly, young goalies want to get in the net, and stop shots. After all, that's their job, right? But, like their counterparts at forward and defense, if a goalie can't skate, he or she will rarely be in the right place, and in the proper stance, to make that save and recover for the next shot. Though the skating techniques employed by goalies are different than positional players, those techniques are just as critical to their success. And they're just as difficult to master. There's a lot of sweat equity required to build that foundation. And that's where you find out if the kid is motivated or not.

Motivation is one of the trickiest aspects of coaching any sport, and particularly hard with goaltenders. Yet it's also one of the most obvious, and most decisive factors, when assessing a group of young goalies. The kids who really get after it, who battle on every drill, every shot, for every loose puck, quickly separate themselves from the pack. Those kids are a joy to coach. Even more importantly we, as coaches, know that those are the kids other players will gravitate toward, and work hardest for. So it's a win-win.

I often wonder whether there's a corollary between effort and talent, because the kids who try hardest are the ones coaches naturally gravitate to. The more time we spend with them, the better they get. That improvement, in turn, validates our role as coaches.

Still, the sad truth is that too many kids have the talent but lack the requisite motivation. Few parents see this side of coaching. We will agonize over a kid who has great ability, but for any number of reasons – from personal issues at home or school to simply a lack of interest – won't realize his or her full potential. It's an incredibly frustrating situation, because we know that you can't "teach" motivation. We can present an optimum environment for learning, but even then some kids just won't show any spark. Like one long-time coach and friend likes to say: "I want to tell his parents to save themselves a lot of money and aggravation, and get their kid a basketball for Christmas."

In reality, the kids who "want" to play goal don't need any special considerations. They'll play hard regardless of the condition of the rink, the quality of the shooters, the dreariness of the drills. They don't even care what kind of gear they've got. They just want to play. And they'll play their hearts out every time they get on the ice. This summer, I worked with a number of top-flight goalies, all prep-school, collegiate, and/or pro-level keepers. Two of the hardest workers were two of the best, Cory Schneider of the Vancouver Canucks (shown in the accompanying photo), and Cody Reichard of the Miami University Red Hawks. Likewise, future Hall of Famer Dominik Hasek was legendary for hating to surrender even a single goal during an entire practice. It meant that much to him.

Kids who share the same mindset and work ethic as a Schneider, a Reichard, or a Hasek are born goaltenders. Those are the kids who will let their folks know that Mom and Dad are raising a goalie, like it or not. The parents won't have any doubts.

Part 2 will discuss the psychology of coaching a kid who has the talent, but doesn't seem to have the drive to give his or her best effort.

Best,
-Brion

The gear game …

Back in the day, when I was growing up in New Jersey in the 1960s and '70s, playing goal was a calling, for one simple reason. You got hurt. Often. It was perfectly normal for me to finish a skate with several (or more) multicolored welts, each one recording another save. I took great pride in those bruises, and in many ways, it was pride that drove me to play the position. It certainly wasn't "fun" most of the time.

A big reason was the gear. The equipment simply hadn't caught up to the curved sticks and slap shots, and getting hit repeatedly by a puck was going to be painful, period. I still have a memento – an old cage from my Cooper goalie mask – from my high school days shortly after my family had moved to New Hampshire. The cage is bent almost perfectly around my nose, so it never raises suspicion. But, in truth, the bar was straight as a ruler until a teammate's slap shot in practice caught me square between the eyes. The impact separated the cage from the helmet, and sent me toppling backwards. I slammed the back on my head on the crossbar, and the only thing preventing me from getting a concussion was the helmet I was wearing. But that cage, I'm absolutely convinced, saved my life.

Street hockey wasn't much better, though not life threatening. This was actually my introduction to hockey, spurned on by my Grandpere (my mom's dad), a huge hockey fan and a native of Quebec. We could play year-round on the streets of my New Jersey neighborhood, but early fall was a magic time. The Rangers started training camp, and we'd trade in our baseball gloves and bats for hockey gloves and sticks. But the hard, bright orange Mylec got more and more stiff as the temperatures dropped, and would sting like a son-of-a-gun in weather below 50 degrees (which was compounded by the fact that I, as the goalie, got stiff as well, 'cause I wasn't running around). I remember my mom helping me to fashion some home-made pads out of old, brown denim jeans stuffed with foam. The rest of the gear was fairly rudimentary: hockey glove as a blocker, baseball mitt as a catcher, maybe a cup jock (maybe not, which meant really living dangerously), a catcher's chest protector, heavy sweaters to protect the arms, and a plastic Mylec mask. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Most of the time, anyway. There were some pretty excruciating moments, when a shot found an unprotected area, but those never prevented me from getting back between the pipes.

By the time I hit 8th grade, I knew I wanted to play goalie on the ice as well. Rinks were starting to sprout throughout northern New Jersey, and my brothers and I were quick to sign up. I emulated Ranger netminders Eddie Giacomin and Gilles Villemure in those days, and begged my mom to get real gear. She said get a paper route. So I did. And in 1972 or '73 (I'm not sure … the memory is a little fuzzy), I went to a local sports shop, and got my first genuine set of pads. I remember paying the princely sum of $115 for the leg pads, $40 for the catch glove, and $35 for the blocker. The total bill was about $225 for just about everything I needed, except goalie skates. Those would come later.

Looking back, I can't believe I got an entire set of brand-new, adult-sized handcrafted leather gear (made in Canada, of course) for a shade over $200. Of course, that was almost 40 years ago, but the point is, I was able to outfit myself with the proceeds of a paper route. How many kids can do that today?

As a coach, I realize the financial commitment that playing goal brings, either for the goalie, or his or her parents. It's not cheap. Take the legs pads. Pro-level pads, made north of the border, run at least four figures, with the starting point of roughly $1,200. There are exceptions to the rule, such as Simmons, a very nice pad manufacturer that doesn't spend big buck on pro sponsorships. But the major players – Vaughn, Reebok, Bauer, Brian's, Sher-Wood – will all cost a very pretty penny. If you opt for customized gear, like Trevor Leahey's imaginative Stomp gear in the accompanying photo, you can plan on dropping close to $2,000 on pads and gloves alone. (On the other hand, Trevor went to the Pingree School here in Hamilton, a commuting prep school that runs about $30,000 annually, so I'm guessing cost wasn't a big deal for his folks!)

So what is a goalie parent to do? First, if your young netminder is still growing (ages 6-16), don't go crazy on top-notch gear. Kids will want matching gear, probably the same stuff their heroes wear. What kid wouldn't? Don't fall into that trap. Get them what they need, and save what you can (you'll need it later if he or she sticks with it). Younger goalies (Mites and Squirts) don't need bulletproof protection, because their teammates can't shoot the puck that hard anyway (the coach might get carried away, but that's another story). Don't take the "he'll grow into it" approach, either. You want equipment that fits correctly, and is relatively lightweight. If the pads don't fit correctly, you're setting your child up for frustration at best, and failure at worse.

In this regard, secondhand gear is a great choice, because it depreciates so quickly, and you can usually find very reasonable prices online at sites such as Craig's List, or stores like Play It Again Sports. I've had great luck on Ebay, but that's because I know exactly what I'm looking for, and the size I need. That's a little trickier for parents, since you're still buying the item "blind." If you're new to the world of goalie gear, you want to actually see the stuff you're buying, and you want to make sure it's a good match. Most importantly, make sure your child's knee (with his skates on) fits squarely into the knee cradle of the leg pads. Likewise, the chest and arm protector should fit comfortably – buying this item over-sized will only prevent your young prodigy from being able to move without difficulty. Newer pads are specifically designed to move with the goaltender, but only if they fit correctly.

Since these pads only going to be using it for a season or two, you might also opt for newer pads on the lower end of the price spectrum. To help take the sting out of outfitting a young netminder, most major gear manufacturers now offer equipment made overseas. And while this gear has made significant improvements over the years, it still is inferior, in both materials and workmanship. Still, it might do the trick, depending on your needs. The benefit here is that you're dealing with a shop that (ideally) can show you the correct way to put the pads on. I'm always startled to see how many young goalies show up at our camps and clinics with ill-fitting pads. The funniest are the ones with the pads on the wrong leg (yes, there are "left" and "right" pads). But then I realize that putting n pads, for most parents, is akin to me installing an electrical outlet or changing the brakes on my car. If you've never been shown how to do it, it can be puzzling. Take the time to learn, and encourage your young goaltender to do the same.

For PeeWees and Bantams (ages 11-15), you want to make sure they're protected. Kids can start shooting faster and harder, and the puck isn't getting any softer. Better gear is not just an option; it's a necessity. You'll want to upgrade to goalie pants, and probably a mask with a plastic neck protector (or dangler). Again, go the secondhand route if money is a concern. You can typically find good gear at 25 to 40 cents on the dollar, and your child will benefit from the added measure of safety. Compared to my circa 1972 stuff, today's equipment is far superior, which is one of the biggest reasons goaltending is becoming so popular. It simply doesn't hurt as much. And that's a good thing.

Addendum: My good friend Steve Zinger pointed out that I didn't mention knee/thigh pads, which are a critical piece of protection for young goalies. Many smaller, kid-size leg pads expose the area just above the knee, and just below their hockey pants, when a young goalie drops into the butterfly (or on the ice). Some pads have "thigh boards," but I've found that in less expensive models, these boards don't stay in place. Knee/thigh protectors are an inexpensive yet effective piece of gear to prevent injuries to this very susceptible (and sensitive) part of the leg. Thanks, Steve, for the heads up!

Stay tuned for future posts on the importance of goalie skates, and properly fitted goalie sticks.

All the best,
-Brion

Starting young ...

I can't blame kids for wanting to play goalie nowadays. There's no question that it's become a glamor position. Here in Boston, if you turn on NESN, the Bruins local TV channel, you're bound to see highlights of Tuukka Rask (the B's anointed one) and Tim Thomas (the 2008-09 Vezina Trophy winner). Goalies are superstars, the center of attention. And that's bound to catch any kid's eye.

Suffice to say, that wasn't always the case. While I was growing up, I was in the distinct minority, one of the few with the kinked DNA who actually wanted to play goalie. The fashionable positions were the forwards, the goal scorers. Then Bobby Orr, with his preternatural skills, came along, and gave defensemen added panache. Overall, it was the stars who skated out who sparked the dreams of most school-age buddies of mine.

Goalies were stereotypically some sad-sack grommit who was short on talent and, more often than not, long on girth (or someone's kid brother who would play any position just to be part of the game). The idea was to take the worst skater, and stick him in the nets. After all, the thinking went, they didn't have to move very far. And even if they got pummeled, they'd stick around because they didn't really have any choice.

Today, gear improvements have made the position much, much safer, which makes it more attractive for first-timers (more on equipment advances in a later post). Plus, the gear looks really cool, and that adds allure to playing goal. But there's also an undeniable athleticism that modern goaltenders brings to the game that makes the position look like such a blast to play. As a coach, I understand that the skills on display in pro and college-level games are the result of years and years of hard work, but kids don't know that. They just see these fabulous acrobats, coiled like jungle cats in front of their cages, making life miserable for the world's best shooters on a nightly basis.

If only it were so simple. I'm not discouraging anyone from trying, but the PlayStation generation doesn't always grasp the effort required to play a position as physically demanding as hockey goaltender. And once they find out for themselves, their first reaction is often to dump the "tools of ignorance" and pick up their skinny sticks. So it's critical to make sure novice goalies are given the correct set of expectations, designed to give them the best chance of success.

There are several caveats to consider before you put your youngster (or any youngster) in the nets. Most importantly, remember that children under the age of 10 are still getting their skating legs under them. The added obstacle of trying to move around with cumbersome goalie gear is a rude wake-up call. Chances are, they'll flail, desperately trying to find a balance point on their edges without the natural advantage that momentum provides. Goalie-specific skating is much different than the long, looping strides of regular skaters, and regular hockey skates aren't design for the quick, compact movements a netminder makes. So the very act of staying on their feet becomes a daunting challenge for many young goalies.

During a recent clinic for my Agawam Youth Hockey goalies, I had one little shaver who couldn't have been more than 7. And he couldn't stay upright. Every time he moved, the poor kid fell. He simply wasn't bending his knees, and kept losing his balance. Once he fell – either on his backside, or on all fours – he could not get back up. It was excruciating. After about 10 minutes of flopping around, he burst into tears. I helped him off the ice, delivering him to his dad, but it was clear that his goaltending days were numbered. He found out the hard way that goaltending was whole lot more difficult than it looks on TV.

One very effective method to prevent these awkward on-ice moments is to have the young netminder bring the gear home, and try it on without skates. Most equipment for Mite and Squirt goalies is relatively light, but can still feel stiff and bulky. To make things easier, give your first-time netminder a chance to get used to moving with all that added bulk, without the added tribulations of slipping around on the ice. Play street hockey, fire tennis balls at him, laugh. Be patient. And don't be in a great rush to your undersized netminder onto the ice. The realization of how tough it is to play goal is akin to "sticker shock" for many youngsters; too many quit without really giving the position an honest effort.

The good news is that the learning curve is fairly sharp, provided they stick with it. Make it fun, and don't worry about the results of the first few skates. The only goal you want to focus on initially is that they want to get back in the nets.

All the best,
-Brion

Welcome to the rubber room ...

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