|
|
 |
|
|
"HUSTLE"
Almost from the time a boy laces up his first pair of skates, someone is urging him to hustle. His father, his brother, his teammates, his coaches, his fans, and even his mother tell him to hustle. He soon discovers that hustle is an attitude. It can be described in many ways. In a phrase, it is "being there first". It is a maximum effort joyfully expressed.
Hustle is a driving, vigorous desire to success, and that motivation is visible. It is skating like a man on fire and enjoying every eye watering second of it.
Hustle wears many faces. Whoops, hollers, scowls, and laughter are all aspects of the devil that motivates hustle; but determination is at the bottom of it all.
Hustle is almost all concentration, singleness of purpose. Hustle eliminates pain and enhances courage. You give a little more than you, or the coach, or opponent thought you had.
It is stops and starts until your lungs jam your rib cage and your breath turns to steam.
Hustle is changing shifts on the fly, and heading right for the goal, hustle is not talk, it is action.
Hustle is doing one thing while thinking about the next move and the one after that. It is knowing where your teammates will be and sending the puck to him, right on the money.
When you hustle, you will know it.
Girls wink at you, players respect you, coaches use you as an example and kids wait for your smile after the game. You'll feel your teammates sweaty gloves on the back of your neck, and you'll see the crowd jumping in the air. The lights on the scoreboard change and there is a feeling inside that is all your own.
You see, hustle is not just a word. It's character, personality, habit all rolled into a way of life. It's the thing that makes hockey worth every fleeting minute of the effort.
|
Working Hard
The Wings Squirt Minor is getting off to a great start this season with intense Dryland sessions. With a tough season ahead, the Wings intend to repeat their Championship Empire West Season.
LET'S GO WINGS!!
|
What to say before our first game
This is your first game, son.
I hope you win
I hope you win for your sake, not mine.
Because winning's nice.
It's a good feeling
Like the whole world is yours.
But it passes, this feeling.
And what lasts is what you've learned.
And what you learn about is life.
That's what sports are all about.
Life.
The whole thing is played out in an afternoon.
The happiness of life.
The miseries.
The joys.
The heartbreaks.
There's no telling what'll turn up.
There's no telling.
Whether they'll toss you
Out in the first five minutes
Or whether you'll stay for the long haul.
There's no telling how you'll do.
You might be a hero or you might be absolutely nothing.
There's just no telling.
Too much depends on chance.
On how the puck bounces.
I'm not talking about the game, son.
I'm talking about life.
But it's life that the game is all about.
Just as I said.
Because every game is life.
And life is a game.
A serious one.
Dead serious.
But that's what you do with serious things.
You do your best.
You take what comes.
You take what comes and you run with it.
Winning is fun.
Sure,
But winning is not the point.
Wanting to win is the point.
Not giving up is the point.
Never being satisfied with what you've done is the point.
Never letting up is the point.
Never letting anyone down is the point.
Play to win.
Sure,
But lose like a champion.
Because it's not winning that counts.
What counts is trying.
|
Parents, just RELAX!!
By STEVE SIMMONS-- Toronto Sun -- www.canoe.ca
One word of perspective to think about as another season of minor hockey begins. Relax.
There, it's said. For parents and coaches. For players and referees. For administrators and arena workers.
Everyone now take a giant step backwards and a quick, deep, breath and remember, before it begins, what this is supposed to be about.
It is supposed to be about kids and too often we -- the adults -- lose perspective and get caught up in our own games and our own ambitions.
A fascinating study was presented at the relatively inane On Ice Summit that examined hockey in Canada a number of years ago. The study asked a few basic questions about how kids and parents felt about a minor hockey game a week or so after it had been played -- and the answers have stuck with me.
The very same questions were asked of both parents and kids, but the responses were remarkably different.
One week or so after the games were played, kids had little recollection over the details, who won, who lost, what the final score happened to be, who scored and who succeeded.
But the parents were like elephants. They forget nothing. The score. The statistics. The kind of game their child had played. Probably the number of penalties called against them that they didn't think were penalties. They remembered it all.
On one of the minor hockey teams I coach, we often go to restaurants after games in large groups. The young teenagers sit at one table. The adults sit at another.
Inevitably, if you listen in, the conversation at the kids' table has little to do with hockey. They're more consumed with hamburgers and school and some member of the opposite sex and something incredibly funny -- like who farted.
The parents don't just order food. They digest the game. They dissect it. To a point --sometimes good, sometimes not -- they live the game. They talk about who looks good and who doesn't -- until the next game, and they talk about it again.
Thus the key word: relax.
And too often we don't. Too often we're too busy trying to win, giving instruction in the car, yelling at referees, complaining about schedules, coaching from the stands, and I write this from the perspective of someone who adores minor hockey and has dedicated much of his adult life to involve himself in the best game in the world.
The game remains fabulous. The experience is forever enrapturing. The lure of hockey makes Septembers seem less dreary than usual. That's why we cheer so hard each and every year to try and lessen the noise, to try and heighten the experience for everyone involved, to realize that Canadian hockey isn't -- and should never be -- about sending kids to the NHL.
It should be about playing, about being on a team, about a group of kids and parents becoming friends and having something in common forever.
That less than one percent turn it into a profession is nice for less than one percent of those playing. For the 65% who play house league and the 30% or more who play rep or select, the game is every bit as important, every bit as enriching.
We have to keep that in mind as another season of minor hockey begins.
|
|
|
