A Not So Old Fashioned Bell Ringing

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The Devil unfortunately joined the all too familiar ranks of the mildly concussed club last week.  In our final game of the regular season, which we tied 1-1 with our goaltender on the bench and less than a minute left in the game (a brief digression I am not the least bit ashamed to boast about in light of our team’s recent shortcomings in terms of victories), my youngest collided in open ice with an oncoming opponent. I didn’t actually see the collision, as I was apparently engrossed by something happening elsewhere in the game at that moment. I was told the impact catapulted her backwards to the unforgiving ice below, which in turn, dealt its own harsh blow to her helmet-clad, but obviously not fully protected, noggin.  I supposed when your head is thrust at any immovable surface a bit of plastic and foam is really only going to do so much in the way muffling the blow.  We need only look at the rash of concussion-like symptoms that have plagued hockey from the National Hockey League on down to the minors for proof of the same.

The Devil, for her part, came to the bench with tears in her eyes, signalling immediately she was hurt as she has a history of having a pretty high tolerance to pain. Having not seen the hit, I also thought there may have been some degree of frustration ahead of those tears.  Only a few moments later and in need of an extra skater to take the place of our purposely displaced goaltender, I asked her quickly if she was ok, to which she nodded and was ushered back into the play.  In retrospect and in future, I will be sure to do a better job assessing the fitness level of any players who have returned to the bench after a fall, whether they make it there under their own steam – shedding tears or not. A second fall or hit, accidental or otherwise, may have had a more detrimental effect.

Immediately following and for a couple of days after our last match, the Devil complained of a fairly persistent headache.  Mom, as both cautious mother and now experienced trainer, decided to take her to the clinic for an assessment which confirmed the likelihood that she sustained a mild concussion as a result of her head-first meeting with her frozen nemesis.  She has been advised to not play hockey until she is symptom free for at least a couple of days.  She was even given a potential pass on her high-school exams, an option which she surprisingly did not exercise (particularly when it came to a daunting Math final).  So now we will wait and watch; perhaps not unlike her favourite player Sidney Crosby has waited and been watched. There is undoubtedly a heightened awareness to the dangers of head trauma in this and other games.  Thankfully gone are the days of smelling salts acting as fog-reducing remedies to get players back on the playing field as quickly as possible.  It’s no longer enough to know the answer to “What’s your name?” or “What City are you in?”  Rather, today we are starting to see bluetooth-enabled sensors affixed to helmets as a means to measuring the impact and damage caused by a  shot to the head.

Maybe, for better or worse,  this will be young Mr. Crosby’s legacy. We all hope he plays many more years of hockey. However, should that not be the case he would surely be a positive role model and advocate to which none could compare.

We will be upgrading the aforementioned protective headgear before her next foray onto the ice.  Based on the Boy’s more up-to-date model, awareness has brought with it advancements in protection.  We have our first playoff game this weekend, in which we will already be at least one player short, but there will certainly be no rush to put a single game ahead of anyone’s health; and particularly not the Devil’s. No bells will be rung before their time.  Hockey will definitely take a backseat this time around.

#imahockeydad

Pesky Proverbial Primate Be Gone

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Well, I don’t know if it had anything to do with the constant pleading by the coaching staff for a full three-period effort, but our young ladies did that with a vengeance this weekend, thereby dislodging their hockey albatross.

Their first of two victories came yesterday when they toppled the third place team in their own rink after skating to a 1-1 deadlock after two periods.  We did our best to convince them that they were more than holding their own despite not getting a lot of shots on the opposing net.  We reiterated our belief in them as winners, but only they could affect a positive outcome.  We hoped, as my one assistant coach mused, that they hadn’t simply become used to losing.  Our defence and goaltender were keeping their scoring opportunities to a minimum.  In the final frame, with an earful of encouragement, our charges came out with a determination we had not seen since our tournament victory so many games ago.  The Devil, bless her soul, started the albatross eviction with a pretty highlight reel goal of the top-shelf variety after a deliberate charge to the net.  Another marker would be put past the enemy keeper a couple of minutes later, which forced her from her goaltending duties.  The slumping body language of the other team was eerily similar to what we’d seen from our own side over the past few weeks.  A few questionable penalties down the stretch made things interesting, however our bending did not lead to breaking this time around. The final score read 4-1. We all agreed the post-win feeling was much better than what we’d become accustomed to.  A fine TEAM win indeed.

As with most games there is always a story within the story. This one involved my first disciplinary player benching of the season; brought on to some extent by the recent feedback from team parents.  One of our defencemen took  what we’ll call a “lazy, ill-timed” penalty with about six minutes left in the second period.  Her father, in particular, suggested it would be ok to use benching as a consequence — to send a message.  When she returned to the bench after her penalty I reminded her of my previously announced commitment to ensuring discipline from this point forward. I then told her to have a seat on the bench, intimating she would miss a shift for her unwanted foul, which would essentially mean she would miss the rest of the period.  A fair punishment from which I trusted she would learn a lesson. The third period started after a flood of the ice. As noted above, this frame saw frantic action.  I was certainly caught up in the game as we pulled ahead on the scoreboard. Then with about five minutes left in the match I looked down where I noticed the penalized player standing next to our back-up goalie.  It was obvious she had been standing there a while so I asked “Have you not been back on the ice?” to which she replied “No, I assumed I was still benched.  I was waiting for permission.”  My heart sank as I realized my single-shift message had been misinterpreted.  I’d been too involved in the game to notice one player had effectively sat for 10+ minutes (plus the four she sat in the previous period). Another rookie coach mistake. Hopefully one I won’t make again.

Before today’s game I told the recent victors this was an opportunity to start building momentum for the playoffs.  A string of three wins to close out the season may not move us up in the standings, however, it would bode well for round one no matter who we are set to face; after all, we’ve competed with, if not defeated, every team in the league. I may have also mentioned to the group I was superstitiously wearing the same shoes, socks, pants and shirt as I did the victorious day before.  One player naturally quipped, “I hope you changed your underwear.”  “Everything’s the same except that” I assured her.

As the game started, so did the momentum building I asked for.  In the first two periods the girls won pretty much every battle against a short-handed home team. They outshot the competition 24-4 and outscored them 4-0; a good start indeed.  Yet I reminded them to keep the pressure on in the final frame.  The third period started well but our opponents would net a goal of their own by deflection a puck off of our defenceman’s knee only a couple of minutes in; the clock could not tick fast enough. However, the game would take a dramatic shift as a player from each team collided and slid somewhat harmlessly into their net.   But the rival player stayed face-down on the ice following the mishap complaining of not being able to feel her toes.  This unfortunately would be the final action of the game as the trainer decided to put caution first as she should by summoning an ambulance. The player reportedly said the feeling had returned to her toes and we all hope she’s ok.  I’ve asked for a update as our player involved in the incident was pretty shaken up in having to watch the events unfold, though it was clearly an accident. Ultimately, we recorded a 4-1 victory on an understandably sour note.  I was also a little disappointed in our side not being able to finish the game on their own.

All said, I believe the mental barrier, our biggest foe the past couple of weeks, has been broken down.  There is still plenty to do in terms of playing one final strong game against the team just above us in the standings and then having to take on either the first or second place team in round one of the playoffs.  But the team has leaped over an important hurdle in re-establishing their ability to play full games and win them.  I sincerely hope we never encounter that oh so maniacal back-riding monkey again cuz he was sure tough to remove the first time around.

#imahockeydad

Being There Through the Kindness of Others

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Hangin out kinda late on a Friday night.  Hockey Mom and the Boy ventured four+ hours this morning for the Midget A International Silver Stick tourney our Colts qualified for a couple of months back.  A nice experience for many who are maybe in their final years of rep hockey.   The team left amidst a first-round playoff series in which they trail two games to one in a best of five format.  Their win came two nights ago, which put them in a positive mood for the tourney.    The Devil and I stayed behind as she has two games of her own this weekend.

While I wasn’t physically there to watch the Boy and his team in their first game this evening, I was provided with a running commentary of via text from a sympathetic mom who would be my remote eyes and ears; my fan-via-proxy if you will.  This duty couldn’t fall on Mom as she was perched on the bench fulfilling her role as trainer/rabbit’s foot.  And while I wasn’t physically there, I most certainly experienced the up and down nature of the game as the Boys reportedly fell behind 1-0 then came back and scored a go ahead goal with only two seconds left in the second period. I then followed with growing anticipation as the Boy redirected a shot from the point in behind the rival goalie.  3-1 good guys.  I may have even done a little fist pump for no one but me and the dog to witness.  But then I also tracked the action with mounting disdain as the two-goal lead disappeared amid a flurry of questionable penalties. I could feel the game slipping from 400 km away. As my phone announced the next update, I had a feeling it would not be of the positive variety.  4-3 bad guys with only five minutes remaining. I wanted to jump through the phone to implore a last ditch surge by the boys.  I held out hope on the second-last mobile chime I received, which pronounced a hitting from behind penalty and the final death knell for our beloved Colts in game one.  Unfortunately in a 14 team tournament where only four squads advance to a semi-final round, there isn’t a whole lot of room for losses in the three round-robin matches.  They will hopefully continue to battle hard in search of outside shot with a 2-1 record.  I will have my cell at the ready for whoever is willing to keep me updated when game two rolls around bright and early tomorrow morning.

Later in the day tomorrow the focus will turn to my girls’ team who we’re hoping to be able to refocus for a momentum-building final three regular season games.  Focus and discipline will be the recurring message.  As always, time will tell whether or not the message is heard and applied. I’m fairly certain mom will do her own patient waiting for a scoring update sent from my phone.  She may even try to coax someone into being her fan-via-proxy.

It’s weekends like these when my good hockey wife’s notion of rigging arenas up with closed circuit TVs and offering pay-per-view or recorded coverage of our kids games may not be all that far fetched.  For now I’ll have to settle for the OMGs, WooHoos and Scooooores accompanying the goal announcements from afar.

#imahockeydad