I’ve been pontificating a lot about the state of youth hockey. Not about the concrete challenges we all face — we all know the fine points about the big business it’s become. That’s a constant frustration for all of us. Rather, I’ve been thinking about the end goal in all of this.
Several years ago, a friend was lamenting that she hadn’t taken harder classes in high school (mind you, she was in her 50s). At the time, I was confused, perhaps even flippant.
“But aren’t you happy? You have everything you want?”
Yes, she said. But she wished she had taken a different journey to get there.
As I reflect upon my own life as I near retirement, I am beginning to realize what she meant. Most people who have a midlife crisis aren’t having an existential crisis, grasping for the last straws of youth. They’re trying to make up for a journey that could have been different. A better, more satisfying journey.
Looking back on my own athletic career is one area in which I can say I have zero regrets. Did I skate in the Olympics? No. Did I have the guts to move away from home in pursuit of being the best in the world? No. But in the end, I’m convinced the journey was far more rewarding than the end result would have been.
One of those decisions was leaving a top team with exceptional training opportunities. While I’ve always preached that you have to be so good that politics don’t come into play, when you start beating your coach’s daughter, there is nothing you can do to stop the treatment you start receiving.
The move was challenging. My mom had to drive me 2 hours each way for practice twice a week. We spent weekends in a Motel 6 when the weather was bad, but I never missed a practice. It was also one of the best things to happen to me. I found myself in an environment where I was not just accepted, but admired. I was the top skater for my age group, and instead of being perceived as a threat, I was embraced by the older boys and girls who encouraged me. It was a tight-knit family, and the coaches were caring and amazing.
Had I stayed or gone elsewhere, I might have had a different trajectory. I did what I could to enhance my training, sometimes driving another hour and a half to get one more practice in each week. The limited training had to be supplemented. Yes, I could have stayed and perhaps had a more illustrious career with more practice time, but what I ended up with were some of the best times of my skating career, and I wouldn’t trade it for a shot on the top stage in the world.
To some, that seems like a bad move. After all, shouldn’t you always embrace the challenge to get better? Going somewhere where I was the top dog, with inferior training facilities and options that in the end probably ended my hopes for a more accomplished career. I had so much natural talent, and won many, many competitions, but as an insecure, vulnerable teenager, I wasn’t ready to meet the demands to make it to the next level. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It was indeed the best possible journey for me.
Now that I’m far beyond my own youth sports experience, I look at the industry I’ve now become immersed in. It’s a big business I never had to deal with as a kid, and I know it’s a much harder journey to navigate for families. The marketing, the promises, the allure of an NHL or college career — those are all challenges that are hitting our youth players every day.
We have a tendency to want to simplify things and I finally figured out why the cliché “all roads lead to beer league” bothers me so much. It’s not that we should just give up and leave our dreams behind, it’s that we need to enjoy the journey, or more importantly, we need to let our children enjoy the journey.
You only have one childhood. You’ll never get it back. I have met so many kids going off to college burned out and bitter that they spend so many years playing for abusive coaches, getting bad advice from greedy advisors, and playing 4th line for an entire year when promised a top 6 position, or even just playing somewhere they knew they’d only be 4th line, but were pressured into believing that they had a legitimate shot to move up. Or, maybe they simply wanted the identity of that team, but in the end feel like they missed out on a lot of their youth not actually being a participant in the game they loved.
Youth sports shouldn’t just be a means to an end. It should be a journey that teaches us about life. It should help us learn how to survive in the face of adversity. It should teach us when to stay and gut out a situation, and when to leave a toxic environment and enjoy our youth. It should give us opportunities to make decisions in complex situations, and to teach us that beyond everything, a strong work ethic is more of a guarantee than any nebulous connection.
But above all, youth sports should allow our kids to do exactly what youth sports were meant to do: Give our kids a healthy environment that is fun and enhances their own identity, giving them a strong sense of self and promoting a healthy self-esteem.
So, yeah. I guess in the end it’s true. All roads lead to beer league. But it’s up to us to encourage our kids to take the scenic route, taking the time to enjoy all the stops along the way, occasionally navigating blind curves and avoiding potholes we only see at the last minute. To find their way back to the route when a shortcut is actually just a mirage, revealing harsh road conditions and causing a lot of wear and tear on their (and our) psyche.
The world is full of unknowns, and youth sports is no different. But we can make sure that our kids are enjoying the journey by exposing them to environments that provide more than just promises. We can give them opportunities to develop as human beings. There will always be challenges along the way, and in the end they may not achieve their goals (gasp, no NHL!), but letting kids learn to be empowered and to grow emotionally and intellectually all starts in a journey that ends in no regrets. That in itself is a great life lesson.
