Why I am Happy After a Losing Season

How struggle and strife reminded me about the love of the game.

By; Andrew S. Meier (Coach)

2-15-2, last in the division.  Anyone who has that kind of record and experience could be excused for feeling defeated and downtrodden.  So, why am I smiling?  To understand, we have to go back to the beginning of the season, and understand where we came from.

The youth league here does a player evaluation each season, and all of the coaches are given the player list and at the annual draft, we select teams.  It is supposed to be a fair draft, but as in most places, it is anything but.  Coaches stack the deck with supposed requests for kids to be on their teams, and since we honor the requests best we can - we often “start” the draft with an imbalance, which only grows.  The other, regrettably,  is that if there are players that are new, or not as skilled, or (and I can’t even BELIEVE I have to say this) female, they tend to not get picked.  Growing up, my father, and my father in law both, as coaches in youth sports, NEVER denied a child, and often took those unwanted to ensure they could play.  And it’s a lesson that I have carried with me.  

So at the beginning of this season, I had 13 players; NO full time goalie, 2 kids straight from the learn to play program, and 9 who had just moved up to 10U which here means they are experiencing full ice play for the very first time.  We had one practice then the first game, which ended in a 20-1 schlacking at the hands of a very stacked and experienced team.  

Throughout the season, we worked at practices on the basics and teamwork.  We even rented a sheet of ice for an hour to work together and get the kids some work in.  And while the basics took hold, and skills improved, we were still getting beat at every turn.  It wasn't coming together at the same time.

I began to struggle.  As a coach, as a parent of a player on the team, I felt I had been failing them.  Everything I tried seemed to fall short.  I felt I couldn’t provide for them what they needed to succeed.  And it wasn’t a lesson I wanted them to carry forward in life.  I wanted them to know that doing all that they could was all that was needed to confront their challenges and to persevere. 

The night before our last game, I was getting together the gift bags and the certificates that I make for each player, with an “award” that fits them.  The “All-Smiles”, or the “Polite Enforcer” - things that I noticed about them, and that they showed me.  And as I was doing these, I began to realize that these young players weren’t upset about the scores or the rankings.  They were still here week after week, showing up, playing, and having a good time, hugging the goalie after the game, and eating snacks!  They were in fact, there, for the love of the game.  They weren’t worried about banners or trophies, or their name hanging in the rafters.  They came out, and laced them up, because that is what true hockey players do - they play the game, because they love it, and all its challenges.  

I continued  to work on their gifts - a challenge coin with their jersey and name, and the team logo on a jersey on the back.  And for each one, I wrote what a challenge coin means for them:

“Challenge coins are small, personalized medallions symbolizing a team or a units’ identity, achievements, and camaraderie.

This season has been a challenge for everyone on the team.  But through it all, you have stuck together, endured, and played on, as a Team.  This isn’t a lesson that you can be taught, you must go through it, as you have done. And your drive and perseverance that you have shown this season, will serve you well in your future”

Now we come to our final game.  In my usual pre-game speech - I remind them that it's fun, we get to play hockey, and if they remember that, remember why they are here, then they will be the true winners, regardless of what the scoreboard says.  And then, something that can only be described as a true “Miracle on Ice” began to take shape.  All of the skills, all of the lessons and teachings we had tried to instill in our players, were taking place before our eyes on the ice.  

Once lone-wolves attempting to score on their own were passing to their teammates.  Defensemen were clearing the puck up and out along the boards,  and the forwards were taking the breakouts down range, AND staying on-sides.  And behind all them, was a goaltender having the game of his life, channeling his inner Brandon Bussi, making save after save - some of which were pretty remarkable.  And, yes, I get to brag a little - afterall, it was our son between the pipes.

As we entered the 3rd period up 3-0, I found myself daring to believe.  Could this actually be happening?  Could the skills and hard work that these kids put in all season, their relentless pursuit to hone their abilities, finally come to fruition?  I told them that the score might as well be 0-0.  That this period was theirs to play.  They had played their hearts out, and it was now time to finish the game.

As each minute went by, I kept looking at the clock. When a line shifted out with 4 minutes to go, I told them it wasn’t about winning anymore, that if they wanted to add something remarkable to this, then they were playing for the shut out.  They were playing to show everyone that no matter what, EVERYONE deserves a chance to play the game, EVERYONE deserves their time to shine.

As the last shift went out, 2 minutes to go, I grabbed my 2 stalwart defenders, my 2 warrioresses -  that's right, 2 of the best young ladies I have ever met - and I told them, they had 2 minutes to go, and NO ONE was to touch our goalie.  They have played for me for years, I have watched them grow, and I knew that with them in place, the only thing that would come back into the zone would be the whispers of their courage.  And then, the clock ran down…

And that was it.  They won their last game.  No names on a banner unfrilled in the rafters, no record of a solid season to be etched in antiquity.  Nope, these ice hockey players put everything taught and grown in them to use, played as a team, and believed in each other, and in the end, they won their game, and were happy.  They gathered for a small get together, got awards, snacks, hugs and fist bumps.  And then, their parents drove them home.  They did all of these things, because they love the game.  And in the end, that is what truly makes them winners.