The Realest Post I’ll Probably Ever Write

I feel very fortunate and blessed to have built the following we’ve built at the Hockey Think Tank.  I feel like part of the reason I’ve been able to connect with so many of you is I try my best to speak from the heart.  I have always worn my heart on my sleeve – it’s how I played as a player, how I coached as a coach, and how I’ve tried to live my life outside of the arena.

I am not living to my fullest when I’m not.  When I’m plagued by the fear of judgment or the fear of failure – as many of us can be – we tend to hide our true selves. We’re scared of what people might think about our scars and bring a shell of ourselves to the world to please the masses rather than living freely and fully for the people who truly care about us.  Full disclosure, I’ve gotten pretty good at masking the scars lately.

So this is me – scars and all – making a choice to wear my heart on my sleeve and practice what I preach. 

I’m blessed to work with so many different teams doing culture building.  It’s such a passion of mine and I think it’s what I’m best at.  I’ve worked with teams that have gone from close to the bottom to the top just on some of the principles we’ve worked on together.

And one of the biggest things that I talk about is that the best thing that you can bring to your team is the best version of you every day.  And the best thing that you can do as a leader is to create an environment where your players and staff feel as though they can do the same.

Because on a team, you need all different types of people.  You need all different types of personalities, leadership styles, and people with different strengths to make the whole greater than the sum of its parts. 

So now I’d like to open up to my team – all of you in our wonderful hockey community – so maybe you feel a little bit more comfortable living your best you and being the full version of the person that the people closest to you know and love. 

You are not alone in your struggles, not alone in your fears. There are those out there fighting the battles you may be facing in your life today.

I’m not gonna sugar coat it.  I’m struggling.  Not all the time, but for whatever reason my brain is hard-wired right now towards seeing the pain and the struggle over seeing the good. 

I’m a big believer that life is all about choice.  It’s not the things that happen to us, but the way we choose to respond to the things that happen to us that really matters the most.

Choosing to find the positive in every situation was always a virtue that my parents taught me growing up.  I thank God for that because it has gotten me through some really tough moments and allowed me to achieve some pretty incredible things.  Resilience, for a lot of my life, has been a superpower. 

But right now, I’m having to work a lot harder to see the good over the not-so-good in different situations.  And that’s OK.  I’m managing.  And I don’t think it will be a forever thing.  But I recognize that it’s made me a shell of who I want to be, and that’s something I really want to change.

I’m the kind of person that feels things very deeply.  It’s a blessing and curse.  When things are going well, it can be incredible.  But when things are not, it can be a gut-wrenching, chest-caving type of hurt that burns the soul.  I’ve been that way even as a young kid, but as I’ve gotten older and situations have gotten more serious, the lows can be pretty tough to navigate.

And I’m not gonna lie to you all, what I do with the Hockey Think Tank sometimes doesn’t help.  For better or worse, I feel like we’ve become the place where people go to vent their grievances and issues with the game.  It’s something that I take a lot of pride in and feel so fortunate that people feel comfortable opening up to me about the struggles they are having or the problems they need help with around our game.  From the highest levels to youth hockey, I so appreciate all your messages asking for advice or help and relish the opportunity to provide support.

But the way I’m wired, I’m 100% empath.  I feel your feelings – even over text or direct message online.  And I feel them deeply.  So when a kid writes that they aren’t enjoying the game due to pressures from parents or coaches…or a parent writes that they are feeling anxiety because they don’t know how to support their child from a hurtful coach but if they say something it will punish their kid even more…or a coach writes because they’re dealing with a parent that makes their life miserable and they don’t want to do it anymore…I wear that.  And I try to do the best I can to help educate, console, and provide perspective, but the way things are going in our game right now a lot of times nothing ever feels like enough.  One by one you’ve been so appreciative of these conversations, but on the aggregate, it feels like we’re stuck in the mud and nothing is ever going to change.

And there’s that word – enough.

It’s a word that I really struggle with.  Like, really, really struggle with.  I know there are a lot of other people out there that struggle with it too. Nothing ever feels quite like it’s enough.

Looking back at my childhood and my journey to today, not being enough I think I ingrained in myself as a hockey player.  As someone standing 5’4” on a good day, the message was always that I had to be more to make it.  I had to keep striving, I had to keep working, I had to out-compete everyone.  One of my mottos was always “Do one more”. If a set called for 10, I did 11. If a rep called to sprint for 20 yards, I sprinted for 21. It was my way of making up for my lack of physical stature.

And this mindset – it helped be to be great at what I did. I don’t know many other players at my size that achieved the things that I did in the game.  But what I’m learning is that mindset is coming at a cost.  I have never been good at compartmentalizing things, and this mindset has seeped into areas of my life where it’s becoming debilitating.  As a father, I hardly ever feel like I’m enough.  As a husband, I hardly ever feel like I’m enough.  As a sibling, son, business owner, friend…hardly ever feel like I’m enough.

It’s a tough place to be.

Interestingly enough, as I write this I’m flying home from working with a few prep schools in Massachusetts.  And with one of the groups, an athlete asked me what to do when you’re in a slump and not feeling confident in your abilities.  Really salient question with how I’m feeling right now.

My answer:

1. Lean into gratitude. By reflecting on the good in your lives, it puts the tough stuff into perspective and you can will yourself into seeing the good in situations.
2. Remember your “why”.  Lose yourself in the joy of what you’re doing by remembering why you’re doing it and focusing on the journey instead of the destination.
3. Get to work. You can’t think your way out of the tough stuff, but you can certainly act your way out of it.

So this is me – scars and all – acting my way out of the tough stuff.  By sharing my fears and insecurities, my hope is it will resonate with at least one person to choose to act to find the good.  We all have good in our lives, and sometimes you have to work a little bit harder to discover it again.  But it’s there.  I promise.

As I sit here and reflect after sharing these wounds, I can’t help but think about the many blessings I have in my life.  I have an amazing family, an amazing wife, 3 beautiful daughters who keep me on my toes every day, incredible friends and former teammates, unbelievable coworkers with the Hockey Think Tank, and a hockey community that inspires me every day.

I have so much to be grateful for, and this is me practicing what I preach and choosing to try and see gratitude over pain.  Choosing to try and see the light over the dark.  And working to find peace over self-doubt.

As I reflect more, I’m asking myself why the hell I am doing this.  A couple things are coming crystal clear.

First, I get the opportunity to speak in front of so many groups of people.  And when I speak to big groups of parents, no matter the age of the players, there is one question I always ask them:

“How many of you in this room right now have kids that are too hard on themselves?”

And full-stop, almost every room, 60-70% of the parents raise their hands.  Our kids are growing up in an environment unlike the ones we grew up in.  There’s so much pressure, so much comparison that many of them live with every day. 

I’m one of those kids.  I’m way too hard on myself.

My hope is that there’s a kid out there that reads this and doesn’t feel so alone in their thoughts and struggles.  Who sees someone who feels the pain that they do but has persevered to do some amazing things in their life.  Who is working to not be so afraid to be themselves as hard as that may be at times.  But understands that courage is going to make them more fulfilled and grateful for what they have in their lives.

My hope too is that there’s an adult out there that reads this and doesn’t feel so alone either. As we get older, life gets realer, and when we struggle we often keep it to ourselves and try to grind on. Especially us men. We don’t want to burden others with our battles and often fight ourselves in silence. But reaching out to those that love us, or even asking for help, that can be one of the strongest things we ever do. It takes courage and so often we realize after we do that we’re not fighting our battles alone. We have amazing people in our corner who are there to support us no matter what.

But most importantly, when my 8, 6, and 4 year old daughters read this at some point down the road, I want them to be proud of their dad.  For doing the uncomfortable thing and putting himself out there to help people who may be struggling.  And that when they struggle, they know it’s ok to come to me and ask for help and I can guide them through it because I’ve been there and love them deeply.

I can’t tell you all how much I appreciate this community that may be reading this.  I’ll end it with a message from a movie line in one of my favorite and undercover funniest movies ever made, Just Friends.  This one’s for you Vechs, and my man Raymond looking down on us every day.

“Just Be Yourself.”