Minor Hockey Insanity: A Reality Show in the Making
A Reflection on Canadian Hockey Parents: Unveiling the Transformative Power of the Rink
In the realm of reality TV, there exists an untapped opportunity—an enthralling showcase centred around Canadian hockey parents. It is remarkable how even the most serene and unassuming individuals can undergo a striking metamorphosis into fervent hockey enthusiasts when their beloved offspring set foot on the ice. And when the intense hockey playoffs ensue, this transformation amplifies fourfold.
Normally, during this time, I would delve into personal narratives about Madeline, recounting our experiences and the arduous journey of parental bereavement following the tragic loss of a child to mental illness. However, this month, my focus shifts toward prevention—a crucial undertaking for parents whose children participate in competitive sports, specifically in the realm of minor hockey.
"Hockey Parent Insanity" aptly encapsulates the thoughts that have pervaded my mind over the past year. It has propelled me into deep introspection, contemplating the actions we could have taken differently and, more critically, how we can prevent the recurrence of such devastating tragedies. With two exceptionally precious boys under my care, I must remain acutely attuned to any signs of distress or disquietude.
Over the years, hockey has bestowed upon my children immeasurable joy. It has been the catalyst for their skill development, and character growth, and instilled within them a profound respect and love for the game. Witnessing my boys' progress, both in triumph and defeat, and supporting them through remarkable games as well as lacklustre performances, fills me with immense satisfaction.
For nearly a decade, I have been intimately involved in the realm of minor hockey. Countless seasons have seen me assume various roles behind the bench. Hockey has been a source of boundless delight, enabling me to spend invaluable time with my sons, sharing a common passion that unites us. Any parent involved in the Greater Toronto Hockey League (GTHL) comprehends the immense commitment it entails. Moreover, hockey has interwoven itself into the fabric of my social life, introducing me to remarkable individuals and parents with whom I am forever connected. Regrettably, I have also encountered a handful of individuals whose erratic behaviour leaves me pondering why Child Protective Services hasn't intervened. Thankfully, most parents I have encountered fall into the former category.
Granted, there was a time when I believed my children possessed extraordinary and unparalleled talent, destined for greatness on the ice. Although my boys excel as skilled players, what holds far greater significance to me is their personal experience—both within the realm of hockey and beyond. Their enjoyment and adoration of the game serve as my compass for change.
Does winning equate to fun? This query merits consideration.
The succinct answer is twofold: Yes, winning can indeed be fun, and it should be so. However, the higher one ascends to hockey ranks, the more arduous it becomes to achieve this delicate balance. In the "G," as the fall season takes flight, conversations surrounding "next year's team" loom omnipresent. Parents cautiously engage in hushed exchanges with fellow parents, coaches, and organizations, contemplating a move to a more formidable team in the forthcoming year. This lunacy within the AAA ranks commences as early as November for a team that will not officially unite on the ice until August or September of the subsequent year. It is a maddening spectacle indeed.
Most elite teams' composition is predetermined well before tryout dates at the end of April. Tryouts, in essence, validate the upcoming year's team, with everyone officially committing and signing their cards—a denouement to the worst-kept secret in minor hockey: the official team roster.
Within the GTHL, countless parents adopt
the role of unofficial agents for their children. Many covert transactions between parents and coaches transpire, often excluding the child from decision-making. Far too frequently, parents erroneously equate winning with fun, an equation that begets misguided outcomes. It is paramount to listen to our children attentively, understanding their experiences on the ice and within the dressing room, before making decisions that will shape their journey.
I recently posed a fundamental question to both Zac and Sawyer: What holds greater importance for them—winning or having fun? Without a moment's hesitation, both replied, "Fun." I then presented them with another scenario, asking whether they would prefer playing on a first-place team under a rigorous coach who emphasizes winning or on a mid-ranking team that prioritizes skill development, teamwork, and, above all, having fun. Once again, both chose the latter option, emphasizing the importance of enjoyment. Though my boys possess an unwavering competitive spirit and relish victories, their responses shed light on a vital truth. Far too many parents equate playing on a stronger team with a superior experience. The question then arises: Is this better experience truly for the child's benefit, or does it primarily serve the parent's aspirations?
As fiercely competitive as I am, I have come to recognize the significance of heeding my children's perspectives on their hockey experiences, and expectations, and actively involving them in the decision-making process. I vividly recall driving Zac and Sawyer home after a Tyke game, observing their radiant smiles in the rearview mirror as they joyously savoured a sour key candy. Their innocence and untainted happiness left an indelible impression. Fast forward many years, and the financial investment has exponentially increased, the pressure to excel and win weighs heavier, and a considerable portion of our lives is spent within ice-cold arenas rather than the comfort of our homes. Yet, has the essence of hockey drastically changed for my boys? I contend that while they may feel a greater urge to improve, train harder, and achieve victory more often, their fundamental motivation to play the game remains rooted in their love for it, the camaraderie shared on the ice and in the dressing room, and, ultimately, the pursuit of fun.
Parents, we must not forget that image of our children in the backseat, their smiles accompanied by a sour key candy. As we traverse the road home after their next game, let us discern if that same smile adorns their faces. And let us strive to rediscover the means to bring forth that radiant joy once more!
If you know even a single hockey parent who exhibits signs of lunacy, I implore you to share this message. Together, let us endeavour to prioritize the well-being and happiness of our children, making hockey truly about them once again.
