They’re a loud announcement to the world that we’re here and we’re not hiding.
I smile as I walk toward my hockey arena. Because I have the only team with its own sporting complex, my office is away from everyone else’s and is where my team will be. The deans offered to give me an office with everyone else in the athletic department in an effort to not create seclusion, but this really makes more sense. It would be rather inconvenient if I had to go to the athletic building every time I needed to meet someone or forgot something in my office.
Believing I’m fairly easy to get along with and have always been told how personable I am, I’m not concerned about making friends. I’m sure I’ll meet plenty of faculty in time.
Besides, my primary focus is building this hockey team into something great. They’ve got the bones and facility. Now we just need the talent and strategy to make it to the Frozen Four.
I’ve had one of those Hallmark movie hockey careers where I accomplished all the things. I was recruited to one of the best university hockey teams where we won the Frozen Four in two of the four years I attended. Then I was drafted to the AHL, wheremy team won the Calder Cup. I even won a Stanley Cup in my career.
It’s not just about talent but being in the right place at the right time with a team that works hard as fuck all season to get where we want to be is so important. There’s always going to be someone better than you. Someone who has more to prove and more to lose. But with the right drive, determination, team, and skill, that almost doesn’t matter.
It’s your mentality. You can get bitter and angry that there’s always someone better than you and let that stunt your growth, or you can use it as motivation to get better. To be better. To train hard so you can reach a goal.
Today I’m meeting my team for the first time. I’ve spoken to a few over the phone and via email. I’ve also texted with one a few times over the school’s media platform, The Pride Room. There are eighteen returning student athletes from last year and five new players that I thankfully had a hand in choosing.
Over the summer, I spent a lot of time watching last season’s games to familiarize myself with my team and our competition and talking to my assistant coach, who’s been with Rainbow Dorset for a couple years. I’m feeling good about this season, and really good about this new adventure in my life. I’m excited.
From what I can tell, the arena is pretty new. The paint still looks fresh. The boards and netting behind the goals look new. But the biggest hint is that the Zamboni looks brand new, as do the cement floors of the stadium and the paint on them.
Passing the assistant coach’s office, I pause when I find the door ajar and the light on. With a light knock, I ask, “Denis?”
“Yes?” he answers from the other side of the door.
I push it open a little and poke my head in. We’ve only met virtually. Since I retired on the East Coast, it took me a while to get all my affairs in order and find a place out here. So this is our first time meeting too.
But I recognize him easily enough. He’s middle-aged and balding but has a big, friendly smile.
“Coach,” he greets, getting to his feet and offering me his hand. “So glad to finally have you here!”
I’d been nervous about coming into this position with the same assistant coach who’d already been here for previous years, wondering if he’d be bitter about not being offered the head coaching position. From what I’ve seen thus far, he doesn’t seem to be upset about it at all. I’m not sure he wants to be head coach. He’s quite content and happy where he is as an assistant.
“Happy to finally meet you,” I say, taking his hand. “Our kids here yet?”
Denis shakes his head. “I think Seth is, but I’m pretty sure he’d live on the ice if we allowed it.”
“He on the ice?”
He nods. “Yep. He’s good about letting someone know he’s here, but rarely comes back after that unless it’s to say that he’s leaving and he’s the last one out. A courtesy. He’s a good kid.”
“He skating alone?”
Denis smirks. “Last I checked on him, he’s lying on his back with his head under the net, bringing his legs up to reach the top of the goal.”
Goalies are just weird.
“All right.” I chuckle. “I’m going to check on some paperwork and then head to the ice. Want to get the team rounded up when they show up and send them out?”
“Will do,” he agrees. “Seth usually brings a bucket of pucks with him, so there should already be some out there.”
With a nod of thanks, I head to my office. Going into a position that you’ve never done before comes with a lot of learning. It’s not just about all the parts of hockey—mentoring, teaching, coaching. There’s a business side to it I’m woefully unfamiliar with.
For instance, when I was handed a budget for the season. I was especially confused with the very apologetic letter that my funds weren’t as large as most other college hockey teams. Like… what do I need to purchase when I’m just here to coach?!
Thankfully, the previous years’ records were available for me to study. Once I went line by line to determine what everything was and why we needed it, I spoke to Denis about inventory and placed a few orders.
But some things felt like they weren’t necessary to purchase every year. My goal these first few weeks is to see what we need. As games come and we begin to travel, I’ll have a better idea of where I need to spend money and whether the amount I was given is, in fact, low. Seems fine to me, but what do I know?!
I drop my bag and check my email before lacing up my skates and getting a hoodie on. I grab a stick and head toward the ice.
