I Miss Hockey

My 14-23 ages of life were completely dictated by Hockey. In the literal sense. What I ate during that portion of my life, what I did from beginning to end of the day, my mood, social life, school life, travel, everything. It was all controlled by Hockey.
I had to give up a great deal of my home and personal/friend/love social life because of the sport. Even my job was affected by it. Often times I'd miss work for one or more days. Luckily the owner was a fan of hockey and supported it. While my school didn't have a hockey team, it being a school in an "urban" city, it was already expected. I'd always have to quit whatever varsity teams I was on to continue with hockey. My girlfriends almost never got to go to games that were further out in the state, or out of state. But to be honest I found them to be a distraction as they always ended up parking right behind my net pounding on the glass and yelling at me the whole game. "Did you hear me yelling for you Jim?" In all honesty, I never did hear them, I was busy being focused on the task at hand. However I have heard my mother swear like a sailor to some people.
It indeed was a large portion of my life, and much of what I've learned has still served me to this day, even into gaming.
I started playing relatively late as far as Ice Hockey goes. Many kids start around 8 years old, wheras I started at 14. However I had played street hockey where everyone wore rollerblades for years. Some things that happened on street translated to the ice. Some things, the more important things didn't. I had grown to really love playing in net. Out of anything I've done it was something that afforded you complete control of what was going to happen, who would win or not. It was the lone wolf role that I almost always seek for. A job that required perfection and small technical things.
My first year I played 0 games. None nada. I rode pine my whole first year no matter how bad the game went. My second season I played 2 minutes out of the whole season, only because our other goalie was injured. My third season with the same head coach, I finally played a few games, only at the heated petition of one of the assistant coaches, and by the head coach's own son. I wasn't great, however wasn't bad, I feel mostly because I hadn't really ever played in a full game.
My next season, I had gotten onto another team. I had developed my game through nothing but practices for nearly 3 seasons. I had only had small snippets of goalie training from another coach, who's team practiced after mine. A team that had also been a notch higher in skill bracket.
I had learned some simple game changing things from him that I still adopt to many things to this very day. One was "Don't snatch at it." Which was told to me in term of snatching at pucks with my glove. Sure snatching looked flashy, but it's clumsy, unneeded movement. I learned to just move my arm and hand out with precision. Another thing was to "Challenge him." Where it was told to me in terms of breakaway or shooting drills. I should force the skater into making decisions, and adjusting, not the other way around.
So yes, this fourth season, much to my amazement the roles of playing each game were 50/50 the first month. I'd start one game and play 2 periods, the other goalie would play one. Then the next game the other goalie would play 2 and me one. After that month we took command of a whole game a piece. I'd play one then he'd play one. I loved it, it was equality, and more importantly I got to play. I was still wearing alot of second hand equipment my parents had bought from a used sporting goods place. But piece by piece I was getting new equipment, equipment made for me. A new chest protector that was lighter, stronger, and allowed more movement. A pair of new pads that were custom designed stitch by stitch to what I wanted. A xmas gift of a new trapper (glove), the very same kind that Martin Brodeur of the NJ Devils used. I had all my tools. My game started taking off.
My team the USA Wolverines would go on to finish with bests in a few categories. Most wins in a season, me and my counterpart would end up with the best save percentages (over .988 out of a possible 1.0), lowest GAA's, in fact they were under 1 goal allowed per game (NHL average is 2.50 for top tier goalies). We held the record for shutouts in a season with over 13 for each of us, a total of 26. My Detroit Skating Club varsity jacked with littered with iron on shutout patches.
We had went on to win many invitational tournaments.
Our league bests had scored us trophies, ones that are still in DSC (detroit skating club) to this day. Obviously quite a few trophies and plaques at home.
One in particular stands out the most, and will always be my greatest accomplishment. My MVP plaque. It's not the most important cause I was MVP, it was because as I got called to center ice to get it, I look over to the glass near the bench, and there's my DaD. I could see him emotional inside his stone face. I could see that tear going down his face. He was proud of me, and for a son, that's probably the best recognition, and the one thing that you may actively seek to do, or subconsciously seek to do.

I felt ontop of the world. I still had some obsticles to overcome.. My second season with them I encountered my first knee injury, that kept me from the game for 2 months. When I came back I was still very much hungry. My old team had made the jump to our bracket. And everytime we'd play them, whether it was my turn to play or not, I'd always be the one told to get in net. My parents had talked to the coach before my first season with them, about what my previous coach had done, after I had played each game against that old team, I realized my coach knew that I wanted to prove something to that team. Each time we won, and in one I stopped a breakaway that in my mind, put a sign out to him that he had made a big mistake of not utilizing me.
To this day, I still resent how I had been treated, being pushed onto the other side of the ice only to have the coach's 10 year old son take shots on me. All the while at the other end of the ice they were getting coached by the Detriot Vipers head coach (IHL) every few weeks.
At the end of that season the letters had already started pouring in from many scouting camps, goalie camps, tryout camps. Many were wastes of money, you could clearly see right through the letters it was just a ploy to pay out money to drive out and have no real meaning to it. But a few small number of those letters were real oppertunities. One was from a team in Detroit, called the Detroit Lightning, that was part of an emerging league called the Elite Continental Hockey League, a Junior AA league. Junior's is a "minor pro" league. Players either go from college to the nhl, or from juniors to the nhl to give an idea. My Dad took me to it, and I ended up placing. However before the league ever went underway, it sunk. Financial troubles and poor marketing caused it to die before a single season was played.
The next season I was with a new team on a higher skill tier. Their previous goaltender setup had one person that stopped playing, largely due to what I was told from the kid having fucked up anger issues. The other goalie had went to another team. So they had been making due with a skater turned goalie.
Enter Travis... 100% more socially akward than your average bookworm, and it showed. He moved rigid, he was nervous around everyone, including his team mates. Often times he would just not feel like playing. Or he'd get into arguements with people when he'd get pushed to overcome whatever barriers he had going on. As a result I played ALOT. Some tournaments I was playing every single game. In one tournament we had 2 games. An AM one and a PM one. I ended up having to play both, with the PM game starting at 9pm, it didn't finish until roughly 2am. I was insanely exhausted. I slept on the way home.
We had won a fair amount of games, went to many different cities in different states, we had decided we weren't going to be a team that focused on our local league games, rather we were going to go around to every tournament we could find.
After the season had ended the letters again poured in, one from St.Louis that included a phone call the next day. "Hey? James Powell? You read the letter I trust? Well we were just making sure you recieved it and were wondering if you had made a decision?"
The letter in question was an invitation out to St.Louis, Missouri. To attend a developmental camp for the Blues. It was an amazing experience that I won't ever forget. Riding up the elevator at the Hotel with the bellhop giving me some ribbing about the Blue vs the Redwings after he had found out I was from Michigan. A 12 foot brass horse in the lobby that I climbed onto, and yell at for doing.
I had already knew I wasn't going to get put on a farm team, there were many goalies there that had already made their way to Juniors. But it was a great way to put my foot in the door and show everyone what I had.
The next season was like the last, but with a different coach and set of players. I again ended up in St.Louis for another tournament. We had the great fortune of being at the same hotel as many cheerleading teams, for apparently a competition that was being held not too far away from there. We ended up skating with them on the ice during what was supposed to originally be a practice.
Later that year we went to Chicago, and found more fun there. Putting falling ice signs (looked like a hardhat person with a flag) on public busses as we road. Making farting noises at a train conductor during a ride through the city. Getting Travis insanely embarrassed at Hooters when we told them it was his birthday falsely. At the hotel we were sending random objects like paintings/pictures, statues, vases, chairs, everything we could find down the elevator. Each time the elevator came back up it was empty. We never got in trouble or yelled at, and I can't imagine the hell our coach had to put up with by the owners, but it was worth it. Cory a team mate of mine being hit on by a 40 something year old lady coming out the bar lounge. Him later asking Concierge for a cot, for no real reason at 3am, and actually having one brought to his room promptly, where it sat empty the whole time lol.
Through the years I had played against so many people, against David Legwand, Moreau, Miller, quite a few people that either are in minor pro, or are in the NHL right now. I had also grown more confident in my abilities, and started asserting my presence on the ice. Anytime someone parked in front of me, I made sure they would get away. Often starting out by clapping their ankles with my stick, and if that didn't work I'd start hacking at their ankles with the stick. One person I had played against from Troy kept backing up into me, and it pissed me off to no end, no matter what I did he'd keep it up. Then I cup checked him with the stick. He didn't get near me again. I never got the oppertunity to fight, as any sort of scrum I got into, was quickly ended for me by my teammates rushing that person. The mantra of protecting your goalie I suppose..
I also hated being white washed. A practice of going from full steam and stopping right in front of the goalie so that the shavings of ice you make during stopping fly right into the persons face. I hated it, still hate it. One person in particular had been going full pace and then stopping so close he slid me back and I had snow all over me. He proceeded to hack at my glove that had the puck covered. I swong my stick out at him clipping him in the back of the knee. He fell and started swearing at me. Jumping up and yelling at the referee to do something about it. "tell that fucking goalie to keep his stick by his side." The referee didn't say a peep to me.

I've also had the get fortune of having other coaches commend me personally. One game in particular we lost 2-3. Although it felt like we had almost no offense the whole game. One shot I stopped came from the faceoff dot nearest to me on my right. The on the faceoff they won and shot it at me within 2 seconds of the drop. Saved again. Near the end of the game there was a breakaway. Same place roughly, the guy slapped it at me, it went off my right pad at a bad angle right back to him in pace. I rolled over on my back as he shot it, I continued rolling over and had my left leg down on the ice just in time to stop it, where it layed lodged under that leg. As per every game, you shake hands after at center ice. Their coach waived me over, I had clear disgust in my eyes. He puts a hand on my chest to stop me, "That's the best I've ever seen anyone play."
It mattered little at the time, but looking back on it, it really was a comment that means alot, coming from such a pedigree of that particular team.
I ended up out in Big Rapids going to school at Ferris State. With a focus of Botany. I played one single season for them. The training camp of what was going to be my second, I had sustained my third knee injury, the second one to my right knee, and what would end up stopping me from ascending further. After I recovered i just didn't have the dexterity or agility in the lower half of my body like I used to. Also despite me never really focusing on the "Butterfly" or more accurately "Profly" style of playing, I still used a lot of it melded with what I had learned on my own, again I had never really had goalie coaching, it was all me using what I felt worked. I was a hybrid of sorts. Relying on my abilities of reaction, awareness, and technical portions of the game. It still had taken a toll on my hips.
Other people I trained with were just quicker, other goalie camps I attended just to get back in shape were depressing. 16 year old kids moving 3-4 times as quick as myself, the only saving grace being my experience level. "I just can't get back up as quick, I'll just have to take the second shot down, and make sure I'm making good compactness."
It ended up being the downfall. I finished my second year of school and stopped. I ended up having enough school to get a certificate for Ornamental Horticulture. And that was it..
To this day I always wonder what could of been. To watch hockey games, and whenever a goalie let a goal in I could easily discern if it had been something I easily would have made a save on.
I later would help on occasion with some teams goalies and coaches, getting some time to skate again, and enough money for gas and some beer. It's still something I think about doing to this day.

I'm not sour about any part of it however. I've gotten to play against other countries representing my team and representing my country. I've gotten to see many of the states in our country, and visit other countries. Made good friends, made great memories I'll never forget. Most importantly I made my Dad proud..
And perhaps in someones mind I'm still pissing them off because of some glove save I made :)