Hello campers!

A version of the following column originally appeared in the April issue of the New England Hockey Journal, but I thought it was particularly timely now, as school winds down and parents look to summer activities.

HELLO CAMPERS!

Ah, spring. When Old Man Winter loosens his grip on the Northeast, baseball pitchers and catchers report to Florida or Arizona, and the interminable hockey season finally winds down. Let’s not kid ourselves – it is a long season. My daughter’s Pee Wee hockey team had its first hockey game before her first soccer game last September. How crazy is that?

Still, it's during spring, with all its showers and subsequent yard work, that my thoughts invariably turn to summer camps. Am I a fan? Absolutely. Are there caveats? Without question.

Now, if you're a parent, I bet I can guess what you're thinking. "A goalie coach stumping for summer camps … What a shock!" So, before you jump to any conclusions, let me set the record straight. I'm a big advocate of down time, and taking a break from the game. I believe in playing different sports, and developing different skill sets. That gives your body a chance to recover by working different muscles, and helps keep your mind fresh as well.

I’ve seen too many youngsters – talented young goaltenders – lose their passion for the game because they simply play too much and see too many pucks. It just wears them down, and can suck the joy right out of the game. It makes me think Shep Messing. In the 1970s, Messing was a terrific if irreverent soccer goalkeeper from Harvard who went on to play for the US Olympic team and professionally for the New York Cosmos and Boston Minutemen.

Messing was a competitor, but not the hardest worker in practice. He clashed with his Harvard coach about his training regimen (or lack thereof). Messing’s argument was both cheeky and clever: "I only have so many saves in this body. Do you want me to waste them all in practice, or would you like me to have a few left for the games?"

Now, I don’t buy into Messing’s philosophy completely (he was, after all, a product of the counter-culture 1960s and '70s), but there’s a ring of truth to it. You want to have all your players – an especially your goaltenders – as sharp as possible before a game. After seven or eight months, that's not easy.

The September-to-April season can be a grind, and the mental and physical wear and tear on the players is something every coach needs to be cognizant of. I appreciate that pushing through those obstacles can help build character, but only to a point. Too often, goalies are hitting the wall just when the games mean the most – the playoffs – and that's a recipe for disaster. After the season, give them a break. Trust me, your son or daughter won’t “fall behind” by taking time off. In reality, it can recharge their batteries.

Summer goalie camps, after a brief vacation away from the rink, are a chance to jump back into the game with a renewed sense of purpose. The rink, for me, has always been a welcome respite from summer’s sweltering temperatures. You get to hang out with a bunch of other goalies, and you can participate without the added pressure of winning that comes during the regular season and playoffs.

Interestingly enough, Brian Daccord, owner of Stop It Goaltending, sees a distinct difference between "in season" and "off season" approaches to goalie coaching, especially at the higher levels of competition.

“The goalie coaching position is now defined two ways,” says Daccord. “You have a performance coach, and then you have a development coach. All the kids now have two coaches. In the summer, they'll have a development coach, and during the season they'll have a performance coach. How you handle and train the players during the season compared to the summer is apples and oranges.

“In season, it's about results,” says Daccord. “In the summer, you're working on improving technique, improving quickness, working on your strategies and your technical game, so you know how you want to play every situation. You want to work on your weaknesses, try new things, try to implement new facets to your game, new techniques.

“You can't do that during the season,” he says. “In-season, it's about getting that goalie ready for that next game. That means physically and mentally. The mental part of the game for the performance coach is far greater than the development coach.”

In a similar vein, Joe Bertagna, who has run Bertagna Goaltending for 38 years, says camps provide young goaltenders the special attention that the position demands these days, but is typically lacking from most in-season programs.

"With youngsters, we’re educating, and giving them the basic skills they need," says Bertagna. "With older goalies, at the Division 1 college level, we assume they have the tools. That doesn’t mean they can’t adapt and adjust and they don’t need someone monitoring their development."

Bruce Irving, the goalie coach for Harvard who works with both Bertagna and Daccord, agrees. "For the most part, the goalies end up on teams playing for coaches who have never been a goalie," he says. "I don’t think they get the necessary attention in most standard team environments."

Another potential problem with in-season coaching that can be avoided during the summer is an over-reliance on the goalie coach. "The kids are used to having coaches now," says Bertagna. "But at certain levels, the goalie coach has become a crutch. The kid has to go to his weekly goalie coach, and I think they’re over-coached in some instances."

Conversely, during the summer, we assume that there's less stress weighing on the minds of our campers, particularly school pressures. That's why camp instructors, though they expect hard work, also put a premium on fun. It's all about learning in a nurturing environment. The camps I work for feature shooters, but those players understand that the on-ice sessions are designed for the goaltenders, not them.

In short, the summer is a great time to experiment, and tweak your game, in a more relaxed environment, without worrying about the next game or your place in the team hierarchy. As camp coaches, we're not assessing whether you're going to be the starter or not. Our primary focus is to make you a better goaltender. Period.

Last, there's also a question of overnight versus day camps. That's a much more personal decision. I always recommend that parents contact the camp director so they can develop a comfort level. Ask for references. That’s doubly true for overnight camps.

In general, I'm a fan of day camps, which allow my young goalies to concentrate during our sessions inside the rink without any distractions of adjusting to a new environment outside the rink. In other words, they can sleep in their own beds. However, older kids might really thrive in that over-night setting. Again, it’s a personal decision. Just take time to do your homework beforehand. It will pay dividends for your young netminder.

Best,
-Brion

It only hurts when it hurts ...

Avoiding pain is about as primal a human reaction as you could ever hope to find. Masochists aside, there are few people who willingly subject themselves to physical abuse.

Which is why the majority of the general sporting world has always looked somewhat askance at the ice hockey goalie, as if we all have a few screws loose. After all, we willingly put ourselves in front of rock-hard pucks, often fired in excess of 50, 70, even 90 miles an hour. Who in their right mind does that?

But there's more to the position than simply the aches and pains of getting hit by a puck. There are also the psychological "sticks and stones" that can really leave a mark on a young goalie's psyche. It's imperative that, as a parent and/or coach, you keep this in mind. Every other player can make a mistake on the ice, and he or she still has someone covering their back. A safety net, so to speak. That person is the goaltender.

The goaltender, though, doesn't enjoy the same luxury. When a goalie makes a mistake, more often than not, the puck winds up in the back of the net. That's a ton of pressure for a youngster (or anyone, for that matter). Trust me, these kids have feelings. They hear the moans and groans, from teammates, from coaches, from people in the stands. Parents can be particularly callous, not only through their own reactions, but also by what they allow their kids to say.

At the end of the day, it isn't the number of wins and losses that matter in this game. It's the life lessons that can and should be taught. Hockey is a team sport, and one of the most important developmental lessons a coach can impart on his or her team is that "one for all, all for one" approach. There have always been prima donnas in sports, but I'm seeing more and more of them these days. And that's worrisome. Parents, and particularly parents who coach, really have to be vigilant about making sure that one kid isn't held up as a scapegoat for the team's shortcomings.

I take the same approach with referees. When I have a player complaining about the ref, I ask them point blank: "Oh, did you play a perfect game? Refs make mistakes, just like you. You can't make excuses." Likewise, if I hear even so much as a whisper about the goalie's performance, I squash the conversation immediately. Here's why.

On almost every goal scored in hockey, you can find several mistakes that lead to the scoring opportunity. Yes, it's the goalies job to make up for those mistakes, and stop the shots that get through. I don't ever let them forget that. But on almost every single goal, there's usually a series of breakdowns (if you don't believe me, just check out the video reply work by Jeremy Roenick or Eddie Olczyk on Versus during the Stanley Cup playoffs). Goals are often the result of "team" mistakes, not just a goalie mistake. It's critical that coaches remind players that unless those kids played a perfect game themselves (which I have yet to see), then they shouldn't be pointing fingers at anybody else, especially the goaltender.

Now, I understand that goalies give up bad goals. I'm not into coddling. They are responsible for every goal that gets by them. Period. Goalies have to learn to accept that responsibility if they're going to drive themselves to be successful, because the shots only get harder and faster as they move up the ladder. It is not a position for the meek or timid.

That said, goalies also need to know that they have the unwavering support of their team. That's especially true for a kid who works hard at every practice (of course, there will always be kids who hope to get by without putting in any effort, but that's a topic for another column). Parents and coaches have to keep things in perspective, even if teammates might not. If kids are putting in an honest effort, trying hard to improve every time they're on the ice, then they ought to be able to make mistakes without feeling ostracized. And that's the responsibility of the adults.

Several years ago, when I was coaching my daughter's Squirt team, we didn't have a regular goalie. So I made the decision at the beginning of the season that every child would take a turn between the pipes. My reasons were twofold. First, in keeping with my team-oriented approach, I thought it was the only democratic thing to do, since no one wanted to play goal. I'm often amazed to see coaches going back to the same kids simply because those kids had the guts to volunteer in the first place, instead of making sure the responsibility is shared equally.

Second, I wanted each and every one of my players to understand, if only for a single game, the unique pressures that playing goal presents. It was, I'll admit, partly experimental. Whether in hockey, or soccer, or lacrosse, I've always suspected that the kids who were the most reckless about firing shots at the goalies were the same kids who wanted nothing to do with the position. Now, the sample set was pretty small (maybe two dozen games), but suffice to say that I didn't see anything to dissuade me from that premise.

Anyway, with a couple of games left in the season, we had one kid who hadn't played in the nets, and I let him know that his number was up. His mom interceded, and said that "Johnny" was terrified of the prospect. Johnny wasn't scared of getting "hurt," per se. He was mortified of the possibility that he could screw up, and cost his team the game. Because he knew how cruel kids could be about that stuff. I tried to be as diplomatic as possible with Johnny's parents, but I also held firm. The policy was put in at the start of the season, and they never said a word. I couldn't let a parent (or player) off the hook simply because they tried to wait me out. Predictably, Johnny didn't show for the last two games of the season.

That's a shame, because Johnny missed a chance to learn several really important lessons. First, he would have found out, firsthand, that goaltending ain't easy (which I suspect he already knew). Second, win or lose, the sun would still come up the next day. And third, he might have even realized that he was able to face up to his fears and overcome them. Isn't that what sports, in part, is all about. Parents and coaches need to remember that as well.

ESPN columnist and anchor John Buccigross once wrote that the single most important characteristic that a hockey player must develop is confidence. I agree. But confidence needs to be nurtured, cultivated. And that's on the coaches and parents.

Best,
-Brion

All we have to fear ...

"Fear is the highest fence." ~Dudley Nichols

Or, perhaps, fear is a hockey puck. A rock-hard, vulcanized hockey puck, aimed head high. Once you've been tagged a few times, unless you've got a serious kink in your hard-wiring, you're going to have a healthy fear of the hurt a puck can put on you.

Or maybe fear is a bad goal, an embarrassing goal, and the taunts of opponents and teammates alike, and the criticisms of win-at-all-cost coaches and fans who don't always understand and appreciate the singular pressures a goalies must deal with. The proverbial fear of failure can be crippling.

Hi gang. Sorry I've been away for a while, as my "real work" responsibilities have taken me from my "fun work." But this is an important topic, and one that's been driven home lately as we get into the stretch drive of the season. So let's dive in.

There are many fears that can play on the mind of a hockey goalie, and almost all of them need to be conquered if you want to be any good at playing the position. Because fear can paralyze. Fear can cause you to tighten up, and as the old goaltending adage goes, "Tight muscles are slow muscles." If you can't move, you aren't going to stop many pucks.

But the fact is, if you're puck shy, if you let your fears get the better of you, you're going to get hurt, and you're going to give up a lot of bad goals. I guarantee it. Fear is the single biggest hurdle a young goalie must overcome (though that holds true for goalies of any age).

I understand this hardly qualifies as a news flash. All hockey players have to ratchet up their courage in order to play this game, especially those who fling themselves in front of shots without the extra padding goalies enjoy. It's a tough, tough game, which is one of the reasons we love it.

The fear-factor for a goalie, however, is exponential higher compared to the average player. And this is not just a goalie coach blowing smoke. Don't believe me? Just think of all the mistakes that other players can make that go unnoticed over the course of a game. When a goalie makes a mistake, the puck is usually in the back of the net, and the other team is celebrating. That, my friends, is pressure.

So let's start with the fear of physical pain. It's a dilemma for many young netminders, who were initially drawn to the position by all the really cool gear, only to find that the gear has evolved to help prevent serious injury, but not always the painful garden-variety bumps and bruises that come with the position. Pucks can still hurt. The gear, as good as it is, isn't bombproof.

Just the other night, one of my young goalies (a second-year PeeWee) took a shot right above the thigh board. I could tell right away that it stung. And for good reason. My young netminder was wearing regular hockey pants. "Time to invest in some goalie pants," I told his dad.

Another incident, two weeks ago, a Squirt netminder of mine got tagged in the jaw. The shooter, an older kid, immediately apologized (to his credit). And it was obvious that my young goalie was is pain. The tears welled up, and his face went flush. But he shook off the hurt, and got right back into the drill without missing a rotation. I could not have been more proud, because he knew instinctively that if he gave into the pain, and the fear, then it would start to own him. And he wasn't going to give "fear" that satisfaction.

Further, youngsters need to understand that the gear is design to work best when they're playing the position properly. In other words, they have to stay square to the puck, roll their shoulders, keep their stick on the ice and stay compact. If a goalie lifts up on a shot, or turns away from it, the odds of getting hurt increase dramatically, as they often expose unprotected areas (I'm reminded of one puck-shy goalie who, when I asked if he'd ever been hurt from a shot, admitted he got tagged in the calf when he turned away from the play. "That doesn't count," I told him).

So, if your goalie has the yips, try to be patient. Start by tossing tennis balls, soft pucks, and then regulation pucks at them. Let them get comfortable in their equipment, and let them develop a trust that the gear will protect them 95 percent of the time (golfers can appreciate this ... Even your favorite club will desert you on occasion!). Keep them moving, moving, moving, so they don't get stiff (and susceptible to further injury).

But remember, there's no foolproof plan to avoid getting hurt. Pucks can still sting, especially at the higher levels, or when careless coaches are shooting. You should never sugarcoat that reality. It's part of the position that goalies must accept if they're to excel. If they don't, their career between the pipes will be short-lived.

My next post will deal with the "psychological fears," or performance anxiety. Stay tuned.

Best,
-Brion

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