Ode to the Lady Dragons

We’ve just headed out of the rink at Plattsburgh. Although the result may not be what was wanted or hoped for, I can say without reservation, we would not have missed it for the world.

The weather is not great, and it's turning into a long and snowy ride home. Maddy has stretched out in the back seat, and unbeknownst to me at the time, the dog has slipped over the back of the seats and is now stretched out squarely on top of her, both soundly asleep.

In the rider's seat is my co-pilot in life, Joanne, who has a book in her lap, her head back, and eyes closed; not much reading going on there.

We are barely crawling along, I've been trying to find the Leaf's game on the radio without success, and now have settled for something which might be country music but can barely be heard. The net result is quiet time, and I can't help but start to reflect on the game, the team (players and parents), the season, and even our lives as hockey parents. I know that's a lot to contemplate, but there’s nothing else to do, and it's very quiet. ☺

First, I offer up this warning to Katie: This musing is from your father, and if you want to avoid any potential embarrassment, you may want to hit the red X in the upper corner now!

I guess the game itself is top of mind for no other reason than its recency. In my head, I clearly see passes missed by a fraction, clearing attempts that fell just inches short, missed opportunities, and at times, the lethargy that can set in when one feels overwhelmed. I have an image of the goalie, who must've thought Armageddon was setting in, and frustrated forwards, always a step late or perhaps the other team always a step early to the puck, and finally defenceman, overwhelmed with a seemingly endless onslaught from the competition.

Easy to rollover, no doubt, but amongst all the adversity, I saw a never-failing effort. I saw ongoing communication between teammates trying to figure it out. I even saw an occasional smile from the bench despite the situation, and most pronounced to me…I saw a desire to compete no matter what.

For me, as a spectator and more importantly a parent (and I'm betting for other parents as well), this is why we spend endless time, effort, and money, all to watch and be proud.

The snow is heavier now, and we have slowed right down to a crawl. Maddy shifted in the back seat, and the dog groaned as she now has to roll over as well. Both promptly go back to sleep. I take a quick peek over at Jo, still on the same page for at least an hour now. I finally turn off the radio, I can't take the static any longer, or maybe that was music, I'm not sure.

As I continue to reflect, my first thoughts are loud. The coach in me, I guess. I'm practically yelling in my mind, we need to do this, and more of that, bla bla bla!

Once the clouds of my short mental tirade clear, things become obvious to me. This is the life our girls have chosen, the life of an athlete. This is what they do. The practices, the games, the seasons, it's all part of the whole.

They seek challenge, they work hard, they practice, they sweat, sacrifice, and bond. Most importantly, they improve, ever striving to move up the mountain to the top. It's genetic for them; it can be no other way.

And improve they did, holy cow did they ever! A gathering of individuals started to come together as a team, even more as a family. We parents could see it happening. Confidence started to build, then determination set in. The winning began, first one, then two, then a streak. Now they are breaking records, scoring records, winning records, going where no other Red Dragon women's hockey team has gone before. (Forgive me, I'm a Trekkie). But what a ride!

Aah...but they fell short in the final game. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, doesn't matter, they lost. Now comes the next challenge, the new hurdles to overcome on the way to the mountain top.

My dad once said something to me when I was about the same age. I only realized how profound it was much later in life. He told me you are what you overcome. I'm guessing it's not original, maybe it came from his father, but how true it is.

If you seek no challenges, overcome no hurdles, then how can you know yourself?

It's simple then, the mountain to be climbed is clearly in front of you. There is no easy path around it, not that you would seek one anyway. Such is the path you have chosen.

Enjoy the victories, small and large, they were well earned, but beware the ‘pit’, the ‘pit of complacency’. This dark hole is filled with individuals and athletes alike who became satisfied with their measured victories. It is strewn with those who got 80% or 90% of the way, then fell into the trap of thinking they are there. They convince themselves that with just a little more work or a little more effort, the top can be reached. They fail to realize the last 10% is the hardest before it's too late, and once in the ‘pit’, few have the fortitude to escape. I'm hopeful you Lady Dragons will choose a different path and avoid the ‘PIT’!

We are creeping ever closer to home now, when the coach in me starts to re-emerge. Okay, we need to get going. We need to work on this, I want to plan a camp for that. In fact, I'm just getting excited about all the things I want to do when reality sets in and I quickly remember I'm only a spectator here, relegated to car coaching (a term all hockey parents are familiar with).

Well…I'm telling myself, if I can't help on the coaching front, then perhaps a few lessons learned in some 50 years at the school of hard knocks might be of value in navigating the road to the top.

My dad passed along these lessons, they are not new and likely you've heard versions of them before, but I can tell you one thing, he was passing them along to me in stories and tales long before I read about them from the various performance wizards famous today. It's a shame it took me so many years at the ‘school’ to understand and respect them.

BTW Kate, if you decided to read this, you can tune out again. I know you've already been bombarded by them many times over the years.

The number one rule is work ethic. Nothing of value comes without it. Academics, athletics, life in general, there is no Easy Button! The world is split into two categories, those willing and those unwilling. Remember this: When you're unwilling to perform a drill to perfection, shoot a puck with purpose, or spend an extra five minutes at the end of practice shooting, there is somebody out there who is.

Number two: Strive to make those around you better. Whether it's at work, your team, or even family and friends, make the player/person next to you better, and they will help make you exceptional!

Number three: Family/team, and if you're uncertain, your team is your family. Like all families, you will squabble, disagree, bang heads, but this must be overcome. Listen, respect, even sacrifice at times for the greater good, but if you want to get to the top on or off the ice, everyone, and I mean everyone, must be pulling in the same direction at the same time. Even the smallest number heading a different way will keep the top out of reach.

Funny, whenever I think of working together, a scene from the movie Finding Nemo pops into my mind. It's towards the end when he's trying to free his friends trapped in a fisherman's net with a school of other fish. He’s screaming to get all of them to swim down at the same time. Of course, he gets them all swimming together in the same direction and they eventually accomplish a seemingly impossible task and break free from the boat. Maybe Walt Disney liked hockey.

Number four: Focus on the task at hand. There are thousands of variables in every game, let alone what's happening off ice. It is mentally impossible to process all these variables and perform at your peak under every scenario. You must focus on the immediate task at hand. Getting a puck out, entering the zone, blocking a shot, shooting, whatever the task might be, block everything else out and do that one thing the very best you possibly can.

A favourite saying you continually hear from Bill Belichick is, "Just do your job, nobody else's, just yours!" If everybody does their own little piece and does it well, you will be unbeatable.

Number five: Finish the job. I have heard this in many forms, and I believe it to be absolutely true. I call it the 90/90 rule. 90% of the people complete 90% or less of any task they undertake. I don't care whether you're practising, playing a game, or digging a ditch. If you're going to do it, finish it! My father must have told me a 1000 times, at work or play, "Don't half ass it and finish and you will already be at the head of the pack". 

I'm going to add a sixth that is more of a personal principle with me. My girls have heard it many times, "Whatever you do in life, whatever heights you reach or lows you endure, you must do it with character and honour." If you get to the top without these traits, then you were headed for the wrong top. Even more, for what's it worth? Remember one thing about honour, no one can give it to you and no one can take it away.

That's it, about all the value that I can come up with in the quiet time I've had. We are finally entering the GTA now, and I'll admit my thoughts are starting to stray towards tomorrow and all the tasks at hand.

However, I would like to leave you with a last thought. While listening to a sports talk radio show the other day, the host asked the listeners to call in with their most memorable hockey moments. The calls started coming in. The golden goal in Vancouver, the miracle on ice, Paul Henderson's goal in the Summit series, and on and on they came.

It struck me, these are not my most memorable hockey moments, and I’m betting for every hockey parent out there, these are not their most memorable moments either.

My eldest daughter, Jackie, pounding another girl, who was 10 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier, into the boards, then watching her smile at me (I was coaching) all the way to the box, all because I had accused her of playing soft earlier in the game.

Telling my youngest daughter Maddy's team, I was not going to tolerate an injury epidemic where players were lying on the ice until the trainer came, then were miraculously cured and back on the ice for the next shift. Then two shifts later, she gets hit square in the back into the boards and goes down but immediately gets up, I can see she is crying and bent over, but she practically crawls unassisted back to the bench.

Seeing Kate score that first NCAA goal after watching years of her, practising, working out, sacrificing so much to play the game she loves, only to have coaches and scouts alike tell her she was too late, or "not quite there", or worse yet, not responding at all. 

These are my most memorable hockey moments.

At last, the big finale, like it or not we have adopted every one of you, player and parent, into the DeVoe hockey family. Rest assured, we will be watching each of you in every game. Most importantly, we will be cheering, loving, and remembering every proud moment.

Go Red Dragons!