7 October
Columbus Day Weekend this year means a hockey tournament in the greater DC area. Living as a geographic bachelor means driving back to Williamsburg at 5 AM every weekend. This weekend means driving 35 minutes to a Hampton Inn near Dulles Airport. Saying you’re in DC while staying and skating by Dulles is like saying you’re in New York City but living on Staten Island.
I meet Jill, Sabrina, and Brendan at the hotel Friday night. The drive from Williamsburg took them a little less than three hours but following a full week of school and work they are all fairly tired. Other families arrive at the hotel throughout the day, mostly driving from the greater Norfolk and Virginia Beach area. The latter means driving across the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel (HRBT) on a Friday afternoon. This can add 90 minutes to the drive.
A modern-day Dante could use the sitting in traffic at the HRBT as a special level of hell. Traffic often backs up 4-6 miles in both direction, and when that traffic builds up is completely unpredictable. Break downs in the tunnel happen at all times in the day. Couches and mattresses fall off pick-up trucks. Tailgaters serve as catalysis in 12-car pile ups. When I drive Brendan to hockey games in Viriginia Beach I often leave the house two hours prior to the first faceoff. Sometimes we stop for a coffee because I have an hour to spare, and other times Brendan barely makes it on the ice for pregame warmups.
In planning for the tournament Jill and I signed Sabrina up for a tennis tournament in McClean. Rather than force her to sit in a cold ice rink watching her brother play, we take advantage of a local tennis tournament lining up on the weekend of a hockey tournament. This is a tactic we will attempt to replicate as often as we can. In this case, the tactic pays off larger than expected as Sabrina wins her first USTA tournament. She had come in second place in previous events, but the trip to the outer-rim of DC results in the first gold medal around her neck.
8 October
The first game of the weekend starts at 8 in the morning. It takes 30 minutes to drive to the rink. We backwards plan to figure out what time we should wake up in the morning. Taking in time for pregame warmups, the time to get equipment on, and eating a small breakfast at the hotel, we wake up at six. It’s dark, it’s early, it’s what it means to be a youth hockey parent.
The first game is close with a score of 2-2 after the first period. The play was balanced with both goalies making solid saves. In the three years Brendan has been skating in youth hockey I largely conclude that youth goaltending is unpredictable. There is a wide range of talent, and like every position in every youth sport, size and maturity matter just as much as talent. Even talented goalies who have yet to reach adolescent growth spurts struggle to cover areas of the net that will eventually become routine saves later in life. In this game both goalies have talent which is refreshing to see.
A couple minutes into the second period the opposing team has a player shoot out for what looks like a breakaway. Brendan is playing forward, skates hard for a backcheck and knocks the puck away from the attacker. A teammate takes the puck the other way, and seconds later the Warriors have a 3-2 lead. This is the goal that breaks the proverbial floodgates, and at the end of the game the Warriors are on top with an 8-2 victory.
Brendan’s backcheck exhibits one of the most overlooked aspects of team sports. When someone scores a goal, a basket, or a touchdown, it is often the result of a series of actions, passes, or blocks that lead to the points. After the game I talk to Brendan about the play as an example of how it takes a team to win the game. Within the team every player has a role. Finding and accepting that role can be difficult if it means serving in a new role. In the house league Brendan is a consistent goal scorer. The travel team doesn’t need Brendan to score all the goals, rather it needs him to score, make a pass, or hustle to a critical backcheck.
In the movie Miracle, Coach Herb Brooks tells the officials at USA Hockey that assembling an all-star team won’t cut it to beat the Russians. It’s an important point because in hockey the five players on the ice must complement each other. There are players who want the puck all the time (think Gretzky and Crosby) and there are players that want the puck at the right time (think about the one-timers of Hull, Ovetchkin). There are players who excel in open space and there are players who create open space. There are players who can steal the puck in the open ice and there are players who will fight for the puck in the corners. This general rule applies at the youth level through the NHL.
Our second game begins later in the afternoon and is the same time Sabrina’s tennis tournament begins. The game is a blowout in every way with the Warriors walking off the ice at the sound of the buzzer with a 14-0 win. Brendan has been on the other side of this dynamic, and it’s his first time winning like this. I ask him how he feels, and he has mixed feelings. On one hand he was happy to have a big win, but on the other hand he understands that the win was a little too comfertable. We’ve had dinner conversations before where we talk how nothing worthwhile in life comes easy.
Hockey is a sport where it’s hard to mitigate blow out games. Sometimes the third period will go under a running clock, but that’s really the extent of what you can do. There’s no mercy rule like baseball, and you can’t kneel down on the ball and run out the clock. It’s dangerous in any contact sport not to play 100%, because there’s someone on the other side who is no matter what the scoreboard says. Getting lazy is the shortest way to getting injured.
Coach Tony tells the kids to execute more passes before shooting, and moves some of the more prolific goal scorers to defense. After the later goals the coaches tell the kids to line up at center ice for the faceoff, not giving them the time or space to celebrate. So despite the lopsided score, there are some lessons in sportsmanship. The passing guidance however became a double-edged sword, more passing means more puck movement which means more opportunities to score. Hopefully the players observed this as well and can take that to games against more equal competition.
Following the game Brendan and I drive back to the hotel. For the first time I do my best not to talk about the game. In his book Every Moment Matters, author John O’Sullivan talks about the ride home being the worst moment to try to teach a child something about sports, teamwork, life, or generally anything at all. It’s best to let kids process the game in their own way as any questions or comments, no matter how well intentioned can create resentment. I focus my words on telling Brendan I enjoyed watching him play (which is true) and can’t wait for the next game. If Brendan wants to talk about the game I’ll listen but stay in listening mode. It’s a new concept for me, and one that I have to focus on to practice, but it already seems to pay dividends.
9 October.
Because the 8 AM game wasn’t early enough on Saturday, our Sunday game starts at 7:10. This means getting up at 5:30 and prayer that the coffee in the lobby is ready for consumption. The coffee is weak and devoid of flavor, but it’s hot and gets me to the Sheetz near the rink where the coffee is better in the same way a steak at Applebee’s is better than the steak at Ruby Tuesdays.
The game is one sided through two periods, but the Warriors don’t run away with a double-digit victory as they did in the previous game. The final score is 7-0, but some interesting dynamics take place.
The talent disparity between the two teams is obvious from the beginning, and the Warriors control the puck for most of the game. But one of the drawbacks of a talent disparity is the temptation to form bad habits. Players all want to score a goal and frequently get out of position attempting to do so. No-look passes are intercepted in situations where a better team would lead to a scoring chance or a goal against.
Air and Space Annex
We get back the hotel and meet Sabrina and Jill in the lobby for a second breakfast. There is no second game on Sunday so most of the parents and players take the time to visit the Air and Space Museum annex. The Udvar-Hazy complex is a short drive from the hotel. Kids from multiple teams are at the museum. Exhibits include the SR-71 Blackbird, the Space Shuttle Discovery, one of the Concordes, the Enola Gay, and the Red Bull capsule Felix Baumgartner jumped from at 120,000 feet. This experience reinforces the idea that travelling for youth sports needs to encompass more than just the games. Museums, amusement parks, professional sports events, and battlefield visits are just a few of the activities we can do. Travel sports is what you make of it, and travel sports can enhance family time instead of being a distraction.
Sabrina with the Space Shuttle
Later in the evening, the coaches hold a video session with the players. It’s difficult as the video is from one angle and shot on an iPhone. However, the coaches spend time on the video, pausing and inserting graphics. The coaches extend an invitation to the parents but I choose make a run to Wawa for a couple of quesadillas for Brendan and I. I then read on my Kindle in the lobby waiting for the conclusion of the film session.
There is an element of PTSD from my younger days spent in the film room. Athletes who watch film know the specific moments in each game where they did something good, and moments where they made a mistake, even if a coach did not observe the mistake during the game. As the film advances and you know your mistake is about to be magnified to everyone, the anxiety builds. You take the criticism and are thankful when the session is over. There are times when coaches highlight players doing the right thing, but to an athlete one mistake can negate all the good in the game. The video doesn’t lie. That being said it is an effective method to hold players accountable, and at the U10 level, introducing them to this concept seems worthwhile.
10 October
We get off to a late start, sleeping in until 6:15 to we can arrive in time for an 8:20 faceoff. We have time to sit and eat breakfast in the hotel lobby, and I encourage Brendan to sit with his teammates instead of me. As we continue with hockey I am more and more convinced that I need to step aside more often and let Brendan spend more time talking with his friends and teammates. Small events like eating breakfast with a teammate add up to a more powerful chemistry on the ice. The kids get used to talking to each other. They begin to recognize who their teammate is on the ice when the action is fast. All culminating into more communication on the ice, calling for the puck by saying their teammates name instead of banging their stick on the ice.
There is a larger piece to having Brendan sit with his teammates. I recognize the aspect of Erich Marie Remarque’s observation in his book The Road Back that “youth doesn’t want to be understood; it only wants is to be let alone.”
The game begins with the Warriors showing some rust, and frankly showing some over confidence. Attempted creativity turns into a blind pass that’s intercepted by the opposing team and leads to an early goal. To me, I can spot the talent gap between the two teams from the start, but the kids are generally oblivious to the most likely outcome.
At the end of the game the scoreboard displays a final score of 10-1, a mitigation as we asked the scorekeeper not to post any more goals after 10. The actual score stands at 15-1. Last tournament I offered how some games teach you nothing except your place. This game has the same effect. The warriors are a level above some of the teams in our bracket. In some ways it’s good to build the confidence of the players, on the other hand, there will be a search to find the right competitive level to play in future tournaments. The Goldilocks reference applied to youth sports.
The victory inserts the Warriors into final against the Jr. Canes, the team we faced in the opening game. Puck drop is at 3:20, so Brendan and I head back to the hotel to clean up, pack up, and check out. We have a few hours to spare and use that time with a run to Pure Hockey followed by a trip to Ashburn Ice Arena and the pro-shop. There is a dearth of hockey shops in Southern Virginia, so visiting places like Pure Hockey and Hockey Monkey are quickly becoming part of our tournament ritual. Brendan and I also stop for lunch at Chipotle.
Despite eating at Chipotle, Brendan and I are still alive and get to the rink about an hour before the game. Coach Tony likes to spend time before the games with the kids getting them warmed up physically and mentally. Other teams do this too,
Finally, the game kicks off at 3:20 in the afternoon and as one would expect from a championship game, the contest is the toughest of the weekend. When the clock strikes zero, the Warriors have 8, the Junior Canes have 1, but the scoreboard says little about the contest.
Both teams step onto the ice filled with emotion. A combination of internally produced adrenaline and pre-game speeches by the coaches. Both teams contest every puck and there is decisively less room to maneuver on the ice. The high emotional start leads to more body contact culminating in arguably the most skilled player on the team receiving a double minor. Not the best start.
Emotion can be useful in sports, but anyone who played at any level in any game understands that emotion won’t carry you through nine innings, four quarters, or three periods. Emotion is useful for the first batter, the first series, or the first shift, but after that a team relies on it’s skills, chemistry, and depth of talent. Everyone is plays to win, everyone tries hard, and any advice to “try harder” or “want it more” is generally useless advice.
With a key player sitting in the penalty box, it was time for other kids on the to step up.
And that’s what happened. The Warriors begin to score goals, not by skating through the defense, but by working hard in the corners, getting the puck to a player in front of the goal, and jamming the puck into the back of the net. Brendan scores on a rebound in front of the net, followed by more kids scoring goals and those goals spread over three lines. Everyone contributes. The satisfaction of this win comes down to the Warriors could probably have won, albeit by a different score had they not played well. But they saved their best game for the championship game. There’s a deep satisfaction when that happens.
When the clock struck 0:00, the bench empties and the scene on the ice is a group of 10-year-old kids throwing their gloves in the air and engulfing their goalie. The rink awards the players a banner that will hang up at the home rink, and each player gets a gold medal around their neck. As adults we often forget that for 99% of us the golden age of competitive sports occurs in our childhood. Winning the championship in Beer League at the local rink can never match the magic of winning a hometown little league championship or coming in first place at a hockey tournament. The bonds of friendship are deeper in our youth and sharing those moments with friends creates memories for a lifetime.
They all smile in their moment for the camera with their parents, but the smiles in their conversations I see at a distance with their friends are larger. Youth wants to be left alone.
The largest tell in the championship photos is when they finally leave the ice and take a group picture around the banner. Their eyes look down, their faces a bit drawn, a level of fatigue setting in. At the end of the 1983 Stanly Cup Playoffs, the Oilers walked off the ice having lost the series to the New York Islanders. As they passed by the Islanders locker room, they noticed how tired and worn out the Islanders were. That’s when it finally clicked that winning a title will never come easy, not matter how dominant the team is in the regular season. They took that lesson to heart to win the cup the next year.
A look of fatigue following the championship
In some way there is a moment of jealousy, that feeling when someone else possesses you value which you can no longer attain. It’s like the last line in the move Stand By Me:
“I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?”