Chapter 29: Hey Coach! Get a Clue

Let me interrupt the narrative here for a bit. I've been enjoying recounting my journey through a couple of lifetimes of hockey. Hopefully you've found it entertaining and/or interesting.  It's been a chronological accounting, with a couple of interruptions. Those being the passing of a couple of good friends who I would never have met had it not been for our hockey connection.  

I'm going to jump ahead here to talk about something that happened this week. I will return to the timeline as there are plenty of prep, junior, college recruiting and college hockey experiences yet to cover. 

Rochester Americans Camp

I've spent the past ten days on the east coast.  First, I spent time with my son. Although he's in college he had a chance to get some conditioning in by skating with the Rochester Americans junior team in their camp.  Then we spent a little time on the lake in New Hampshire before heading off to drop him and his stuff off at his new college.  After a less than satisfactory freshman year experience at Plattsburgh, he decided to transfer to Elmira.  Go Purple and Gold!

After getting him settled at school I headed back to West Haven, CT. My mom just had neck surgery and she's convinced my dad can't function without her, so I went home to help them both out.  

Schiavone's Peewees circa 1967/68.
Mike McDermott, John Glynne, Kyle Bensen, et al

I had a great week. I did all the usual things I do when I go home.
 I visited Whitey Bensen's store for the first time since Whitey passed away. I talked to his son, Kyle.  He showed me a huge poster which was an incredible tribute to Whitey on Facebook. It includes the blog post I wrote about him.

Whitey Bensen's Facebook Tribute 

I went to Stowe's Seafood. Normally I have lobster roll but they had a soft shell crab Sammy special and it's the end of the season so I went with the crab.

My best friend in high school, Dave Depew had dropped out of my life. Not for lack of trying, but I hadn't spoken to Dave in twenty years.  When I was in NH I posted a photo of Doug Hentz and our boys. I got a message from Roland "Rollie the Goalie" Depew, Dave's older brother.

Max, Me, Doug Hentz and Trevor

He saw the picture and told me Dave would be in town for Labor Day Weekend. We made plans to get together. Although I seriously doubted his actual existence.  

I received texts from Dave.  Dave was the center man for me and Frank Longobardi on the 72-73' West Haven high hockey team.  They still talk about our line.  If I ever want to feel important all I have to do is go back to the rink in West Haven.  People will go on and on about how we were the best line ever to play at WHHS.  Go figure. Legends in our own minds.

I made plans to have lunch at the Depew compound on Ivy Street right across from the beach.  It was a bit of a Depew family reunion.   Jackpot!  They had fresh made pizza from Zuppardi's.  Roland happened to have some Birch Beer in his fridge so it was a perfect lunch. 

We called Dave, "Mumbles" in high school.  After the Dick Tracy character.  40 years later and he is quite articulate. 

We had a fantastic time catching up, reminiscing and reliving some of our glory days.  

The next day was Labor Day. I went on the internet and searched for tournaments at the Edward L. Bennett rink.  Yep. There was a youth tourney going on. I decided to head down and catch a little holiday hockey to kick if the 2013/14 season. 

I drove through the high school parking lot.   I could see the football team was holding practice at Ken Strong Stadium.   Nothing to see there. I moved along.  I turned the corner past the metal shop(do they even still teach shop in high school). Coming around the corner I could see the white and blue building where I played my high school hockey. There was not one car in the parking lot.  I pulled up in front.  There would be no youth hockey to watch this day.  

I wandered back to my car then back past the football team.  What the heck.  I played for that team.  I'm sure there would be some dads there who I might know.  At least I could say hi to the coaches. The head coach, Ed McCarthy, has been there for 4o years.  I don't know him but I'm sure he was familiar with the legend of Me!

Coach Ed McCarty barking orders at the Westies

I parked and walked down to the field.  I stood on the track in the corner.  No parents there.  No coaches seemed interested in my presence.  I watched. 

The team was divided into maybe five groups, each at a different station or circuit.  The lineman were in one group.  The receivers at another.  The backs were off with another coach or two.  And the defensive backs had their own station.   An injured player kneeled in the end zone texting on his iPhone hoping he wouldn't get busted by a coach. 

Here's the thing that caught my attention.  The amount of yelling, screaming and berating that flowed from the mouths of these coaches sounded exactly the same as when I was breaking my hump/rupturing my spleen for the Blue Devils in the early 70's under coach Thom Hunt, Ed McHugh and that little shit, coach Garibaldi. Coaching by fear and intimidation.  I was surprised it was exactly the same as forty years ago.  

I've been around a lot of coaching, hockey, lacrosse, softball, soccer, crew. I've seen the highest levels.  I've seen tough coaches who are strict and disciplined.  But I haven't witnessed this kind of old school intimidation since I personally experienced it on that very same field. 

So I stood there and I watched.  I was closest to the defensive backs.  They ran a drill. It was an "interception" drill. Very basic. The backs lined up on the sideline. One at a time they would run toward the quarterback who would zip a pass right at them.  All they had to do was catch the ball and toss it back to the QB as they ran by him so he could throw it to the next defender. Pretty simple. 

Except hardly anyone could hold on to the ball. The head coach stands at midfield and watches all of the drills going on at the various stations.  A couple of coaches work with each group running the drill.  They give praise and some instruction depending on each player's technique. 

The head coach watched these boys, one after the other drop, bobble and mishandle the passes they were supposed to catch. 

A great opportunity for someone to step in and actually coach.  Instead, the head coaches yells, screams and swears.  He says he's sickened by what he's watching. . These guys are an embarrassment.  They are disgusting.  The coach running the drill agrees.  Yells some more. Berates them further.  Fires a ball head high through the crowd of players on the sideline.  No teaching moment here.  

I stood there watching.  Even before the coaches melted down I was thinking to myself. I could help these kids.  Give me two minutes and I could have transformed their ability to catch the ball. I've done it before countless times. It's not that hard.  But it doesn't include yelling and screaming what worthless pieces of crap they are. 

I've used this simple coaching technique many times. It's never failed.  I stood there contemplating calling the coach aside, introducing myself and making a bold claim. I would tell him I played here in the 70s. I'd show him the scar from my splenectomy.  I'd tell him how I quit the team my senior year and that was the year we went undefeated and won the state title.  How Frank, Dave and I all had over 60 points in 20 games and lost the hockey championship to Hamden in the finals.  

Then I'd say coach, I can improve their ability to catch the ball by 100% in two minutes.  You interested?  I would have been a hero. Or an idiot.  But we'll never know.  To be honest, this coaching staff seemed perfectly happy to yell and scream.   I had this whole scenario in my head.  I have done this with my own players over the years.  I've watched dad's struggle with their young kids and offered it to them.  It's worked every time. 

What is it?   Glad you asked.  I came across this many years ago. First in the book, the Inner Game of Tennis by Timothy Gallwey. Then later in a self improvement seminar, the Forum.  I've never seen it not work.   Here is a variation that applies to tennis that works as well. 

The premise is that effective coaching shifts the way the game occurs, or shows up for the player, how the player sees the game, the speed of the game.  Let's do something to slow down the way the game occurs for you.  When things aren't going well who, or better, what is present?  You are. I am.  I can't do this.  I stink.  I'm not good enough.  I,  I,  I,  ay, yi, yi!

When things go well, there's no you. There's just the game; the catch, the hit, the swing.  Think about a time you hit a perfect drive.  You scored a goal.  There's no you.  There's effortlessness. There's joy. There's satisfaction. But that whiny, critical inner voice that never has anything good to say, the one you call "I" is nowhere to be found.  

So coach, let's remove everyone's ego and focus on the action for a moment. 

Try this sometime. Find someone you know who considers them self a klutz.  Have them tell you they can't catch.  Or use a young child who is just learning. Then establish that fact by getting some distance away and toss them a ball. Use a tennis ball. 

Make a number of tosses to see if they were honest.  If they were, their actions, their response will be perfectly coordinated with how they see themselves.  Better yet, how they see the ball.  The ball will appear small, fast, unpredictable. Their hands will be like pizza paddles.  Their attempts to catch will be awkward, jerky and uncoordinated. The worse they are the more improvement you will see. 

Now, change the game.  Unless your style is to yell, scream or berate.  Then knock yourself out.  No seriously, do everyone a favor and hit yourself in the head really, really hard.  I guarantee that won't work. 

Change the game.  Up until now the object has been to catch the ball.  Now we have a new objective.  This time, don't worry about catching the ball.  If they catch it, great. If not, no big deal. This time all we want them to do is to tell us in which direction the seams of the ball are spinning.  All they need to do is watch the ball, see the seams and report back to you the direction of the spin.  Miracle ensues.  

What you should observe, and I've never seen this fail, is a completely transformed being.  What I expect you will see is a person whose ego/identity is not there. What is there is a person actually present to what is happening.   Recall Chevy Chase in Caddyshack.  NeNeNeNeNe.......see the ball Danny, be the ball Danny. 

Your test subject will respond to a slower, larger object and their actions will be in a perfect correlation or dance with how the ball occurs for them.  Expect to see their eyes focused on the ball, their hands cupping and receiving the orb as it comes to rest naturally and gracefully in their hands. Not the herky jerky movement when they struggled and batted the ball in an attempt to catch it before.

Granted, if I'd done this with the high school football players I would have given the same instructions.  But the football will always spin the same way.  I would have instructed the quarterback to change up the speed. And to surprise them by tossing it end over end to mix it up and make sure they were paying attention.  

We'll never know if or how this would have worked with the 2013-14 Blue Devils.  I either chickened out or I decided these coaches already knew everything and didn't need my help.  Either way, I'm sure they will have a successful year.  The old school type of coaching through fear and intimidation works. Go Blue Devils! 

Let me know if you try this and what happens.

Addendum:   I received a comment from a person from West Haven telling me that Coach Ed McCarty must be doing something right.  He's on the verge of becoming the winningest football coach in Connecticut history.  To which I replied: "I did say this this coaching style works.  My broken body remembers everyday how inspired I was to sacrifice for the team." I'm sure it was arrogant of me to pop in and make this judgement based on this brief glimpse.  But I saw what I saw.  Old school coaching at its finest.

Chapter 28: Back So Soon?

According to reports I got back from my son, tryouts seemed to be going well. The first day they whittled the pack down to sixty and then to thirty.  The remaining thirty would be fighting for a spot on the Varsity A team.  Even if you ended up on the A or B squad, there was no guarantee you would stay there.  A hard worker could earn his way up just as an A player could be sent down for any reason.  

By the end of the week the coach divided the players into two teams for the Black and Gold intra-squad game, each consisting of four lines.  The top two lines were the kids expected to make the A team. 

Max was on the first line of one of the teams. That was a good sign and I was breathing easier. 

I got a call from my son after the game telling me how it went.  He made the A team. I was proud and relieved but not surprised at this point. I forget the details of how the game went but I believe it was close.  

I already had my flight reserved and I flew in for Thanksgiving.  I retrieved Max from school and headed up to Meredith about a half hour away to stay at Doug Hentz's house.  Doug and his family were down in West Haven, Connecticut for the weekend.  So it was just me and Max and the animals.

Navio and Shamu 

Max's roommate at Tilton was the starting goalie.   I was a little surprised his family didn't invite Max over for Thanksgiving.   Looks like it was going to be just me and him.  

I'd come in on Wednesday evening. We slept in on Thanksgiving morning.  No hockey that day.  The showcase started the next day.  

There's a famous turkey farm and restaurant in Meredith named Hart's. I figured we go there for a holiday meal. We were hanging out watching football. It was around 1pm.  I suggested we go eat.   But nooo, Max wanted to watch more football. Ok. Whayevs. A little later I ask again.  No, not yet.  It was now going on 3:00 then 4:00 now nearly 5:00pm.  Finally I got the kid off the couch and off to Hart's, which happened to stop serving at three o'clock.  Nothing was open.  We drove around.  Of course I found a Chinese place but my picky eater would have none of that.  We finally found an open tavern on Lake Winnipesaukee.  So that's where we enjoyed chicken wings and a burger for our Thanksgiving dinner.  

The Northeast Showcase started the next day. It was a collaboration between Pat Norton, the Tilton coach and Mike Addesa, who ran the Boston Advantage AAA program.   The teams participating were a mixed bag of prep schools, junior teams, Midget AAA teams and Canadian "colleges" which is how they refer to their high schools.  

I had played against Addesa when he coached Holy Cross back in my Uconn.  He went on from Holy Cross to coach RPI to an NCAA national championship defeating Brett Hull's UMD Bulldogs in a 6-5 triple overtime thriller in 1985 in the semi final game and Providence College 2-1 in the championship. His coaching career ended in controversy as he was accused of using a racial slur against Graeme Townsend.  Addesa went on to be a leader in youth and junior hockey in the Boston area. Here is a link to this incident.

Here are my notes of the showcase from the SoCal-hockey website:

Here was the line up for the Northeast Showcase Tilton Hosted this weekend. 

The Varsity A team was Tilton Black. They went 4-0 in the round robin, beat Bridgeton Academy(all Post Grad School/team) in quarter finals 4-1 and Boston Advantage 3-2 in overtime. 

Here's the overtime goal.  Every player touches the puck in the space of about five seconds. 

Lost 1-0 to Gilmour in the Final. Not a bad outing. This was the first weekend of live games. (2 15 minute periods was the showcase game format) A number of these teams have been playing since Labor Day. Nice mix of Prep, Canadian Prep and Tier and Junior teams in this showcase.

Califonia players were sprinkled throughout the rosters. Tilton has 3 skaters on the Varsity A and 3 on the Varsity B teams. They all did well. 

Check out youtube for posting of clips from some of the highlights:  Here's a nice shorty by Cody Marquis

WHITE

Bridgton Academy

Webster Academy

Banff Academy 

South Jersey Raptors

RED

Gilmour Academy

Mass Maple Leafs 

Mass Mariners 

Academy St. Foy

Tilton 'Gold'

GREEN

Tilton 'Black'

Mass Maple Leafs (Red) 

Northwood Midget 

Kings-Edgehill

Kuper Academy

BLUE

Boston Advantage

Stanstead College

Wyoming Seminary

Academie St. Louis

Maine Moose

Youtube link:

http://www.youtube.c...mp;search_type=

I got stuck in holiday travel traffic and had to delay my flight home until Monday.  I was trying to figure a way to extend my stay until the season opener on Wednesday against Exeter at Exeter. But I couldn't get a flight until Thursday and I couldn't justify being away from the office for so long.  So I got home on Monday and anxiously awaited reports from the first game of the season.  

--------------------

Chap 27: Frequent Flyer

I would take a total of six trips back to watch my son play that first year of prep school. This was just at the beginning of the financial crisis so I could still afford it.  Also, this was pre fasthockey.com days.  

Fasthockey.com was in its early stages.   The Western State Hockey League, the tier 3 junior league I was involved with adopted their technology for that current season. It was a pretty good deal but the quality of the webcasts were inconsistent. It ranged from acceptable to just god awful.  If you aren't familiar Fasthockey.com is a tech company based in the Boston area run by Marc Ruskin.  They provide the equipment, basically a pc, and the technology to allow any rink, team or league to live stream the games to anyone with an account and about $7 bucks.  The team or rink needs a decent Internet connection, a camera and a shooter. That was me.  The first year or so we just shot video. Later the audio broadcast was added.  I learned to shoot video, record highlights and call the play by play after memorizing the rosters of both the home and visiting teams for each weekend series.  The Gulls typically played three games, Fri and Saturday nights and Sunday late morning.  

The visiting teams came in from Phoenix, Fresno and Boise among other cities.  The games were physical, nasty and included plenty of fights in the earlier years.  They've toned it down in recent seasons.  

By Sunday morning both teams were usually so sick of each other and beat up that they just wanted it to end.   Then the visiting team would hop on their team bus for the five or eighteen hour bus ride back to where they live.  

At any rate, there was no fasthockey.com at Tilton that first year.  Some schools used it or had other streaming services such as Ustream or B2networks, so I got to catch a few away games. But there was nothing like being there and be there I did for quite a few games that season. 

My next trip was about a month after my first.  The prep season still had yet to begin. The Monarchs 91s AAA midget team was playing in the New Hampshire state playoffs.  They tied their big brothers, the 1990 birth year team in the standings, but seeded second due to the tie breaker. The 91s did well earning their way to the finals where they met the Monarch's 90s team. They lost in the finals but still qualified to go the the New England regional playoffs the next weekend.  I showed this earlier, but it was such a sweet goal and it happened during this weekend so I'm forced by my fatherly pride to post it again. http://youtu.be/deu5EeOkTXQ

I don't recall how they did in the regionals. I'm certain that Mid-Fairfield won and went on to nationals after the prep season was over. Mid-Fairfield is always stacked with top prep school players, mostly from Connecticut schools like Avon Old Farms, Kent and South Kent among others. 

The Monarchs had a few solid prep players but mostly public school kids.  

Max didn't attend a single practice for the Monarchs.  I don't think this was unusual for the prep school kids. It was hard to get away mid-week.  However at Tilton the boys had ice four mornings a week for an hour an fifteen minutes for "captain's practices". 

I watched a couple of the games with the Tilton coach.  He was not impressed with the speed or physicality at which these games were played.  I was like, "really dude". Looks pretty fast to me."  He was right. 

Tryouts for the school started right after the regionals ended. They would have a week of tryouts.  Then a week to practice before hosting The Northeast Hockey Showcase. 

Tryouts were nerve wracking for me.  I had no idea what to expect.  Tilton is a co-ed school with 260 students. 120 boys would show up for tryouts.  They field an Varsity A team and a B team. Max wasn't the only player Coach Norton had recruited.  There were at least three or four kids from California alone.   I held my breath. 

I'll let you know how it went in the next chapter. 

Chapter 26: Look Out Below!

It was the weekend before Columbus Day, 2008.  My business partner, Scott got married.  I was the best man.  If I ever become a stand up comedian it will be because of the euphoria I experienced telling shitty jokes I found on YouTube.  

Scott hopped a plane to Vietnam for his honeymoon.  I went back to the office to deal with the collapse of Bear Stearns.   When I committed to sending Max of to prep school I had no idea that the global economy, as well as my own net-worth, were teetering on the edge of a cliff.  Things, as you are well aware, got ugly fast.

So, Scott was gone for two weeks...I was back in the office for two days.  I didn't tell Scott, but I had plans to travel back to New Hampshire for the Tilton School's parent's weekend and to watch play with the Monarch's AAA U18 midget team in a Columbus Day weekend tournament.  I figured I could easily do my business remotely.  What I didn't count on was the world nearly coming to an end.

Kyle and I hopped our Jetblue flight around noon on Wednesday.  The stock market was down a couple of hundred points.  I was watching CNBC on the flight.  As fascinating as this was, I've seen volatile markets before.  I nodded off before take off and woke up an hour later somewhere over Arizona.  The market had closed down nearly a thousand points.  I was in shock.  I called my assistant from the plane and told her to take messages and I'd call my clients back when I landed in Boston.  I spent the ride from Boston up to my friend, Doug's house in Meredith, NH on my phone returning calls.  

The next morning we saw somewhat of a "relief rally".  The market rebounded just because of how much it had dropped the day before.  I worked from Doug's house on my computer all day on Thursday.  The news was getting worse and I could tell from how the overnight markets were trading that Friday was going to be ugly.

I decided to find the nearest UBS office, which happened to be in Concord, nearly an hour south of Meredith and twenty minutes south of Tilton.  Friday was the day of the Parent's weekend where we were to meet with Max's teachers.  I couldn't go.  Kyle went ahead.   I headed to UBS.  

I normally start my day at 6:30 am.  That's what time the stock market opens on the west coast.  I got into the office this day at that time...only it was three hours before the NYSE opened.  I spent the next 10 hours talking non-stop to clients, one after the other.

My advisory group practiced a diversified asset allocation approach to managing risk.  In this free falling market, nothing, other than cash was safe.  Normally if one asset class is falling, something else is rallying.  There was such a high level of fear that nothing was safe.  We were in the midst of a global economic meltdown.  Babies, bathwater...everything was being thrown out.  My message to my clients was to not panic.  Some listened.  Others didn't.  I had clients who bailed at the worst possible time, locking in their losses and have never recovered.  Most people held steady and came away just fine.  Others snapped up bargains and made a killing.  My job was to manage fear and temper greed.  Fear ruled this day.  I missed my son's parent/teacher's conferences.  

The rest of the weekend was spent enjoying watching Max play with the NH Monarchs.  This was the first time I'd seen him since he left a couple of months earlier.  He looked great.  He'd grown.  

Tilton, like other prep schools requires that students participate in activities each semester, or season if we are speaking athletics.  Some of the hockey players played either football or soccer in the fall.  Most of them participated in a strength and conditioning program.  So my kid got to lift weights every day and it was paying off.  

I forget how they did in the tournament, but the Monarchs played well.  I really missed watching Max play.   Here's a brief clip of a 

goal he set up.  He's 21 in white.  

By the way, I started a new discussion on the socal-hockey.com message board around that time for people interested in California kids playing prep school hockey in New England.  I wrote in detail about the experience.  This was in my pre-blogging days.  If anyone actually finds this stuff interesting you can check it out here.  Actually, I just checked it out and here is the post I made after this trip:

Just back from my first trip of the season to New England. When I say season, prep tryouts don't start until Nov 11th and the season kicks off with a Thanksgiving Tournament. 

However, they get 4- 1 hr 15 min sheets of ice a week= 6 hours for "captains practices"...

and

my son has been playing with the NH Monarchs 18u Tier 1 91 birthyear team for the fall season. They play out of the same rink as the EJHL Monarchs and the AHL Monarchs practice rink. They play a split season. Just finished a tournament that I had a chance to watch this weekend. They played Eastern Mass Senators and Buffalo Saints(St. Francis Prep school's Fall midget team). They have their state playoff the first weekend in Nov., then regionals the next week. After that off to the prep season. The regional champions get back together after the season to go to nationals. Most players are in prep school with a few from the local public schools.

Very competitive. Fun to watch. The midget season is basically played as a warm up for the prep and high school leagues. Lots of exposure to New England colleges. 

Some interesting differences between socal and new england hockey. Much more puck movement, quicker to headman the puck to open linemate, less dangle, more physical and the refs call nothing. Lot's of slashing, hooking elbows as well as very aggressive use of the body. 


Can hardly wait for the school season to begin. Keeping our fingers crossed for tryouts. 

This discussion has received over 57,000 views since I started it.  I think that is the second most of any discussion on the site.   I will be going back through some of the posts to jog my memory and see if there is anything worth sharing here.

So the journey had begun.  A dream I had when I was a kid had gone unfulfilled.  My son was living the dream.  His dream?  My dream?  That's up for discussion but regardless this was the beginning of the next phase.  Unless there would be something unexpected we knew the plan for the next two years.   

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this, but Max would be repeating his junior year, the year he'd just completed in San Diego.  Some schools suggest new students repeat the grade they just completed in high school.  Others require it and yet others don't allow it.  Tilton suggested it and we felt it was a good idea.  There is another way that some kids opt to attend prep school. They graduate from their high school and do a PG(post graduate) year. 

Our hockey director for the Gulls youth organization was not a fan of prep school hockey.  His critique was based on the length of the season(late Nov-early March/too short) and the limited number of games.  Prep schools are limited to a maximum of 35 games for the season.  

The Youth season starts at Labor Day and goes through February when state, regional and national playoffs begin.  With playoffs the season can last into April.   Many youth teams play anywhere between 50 and 80 games.   They get two or three practices per week. 

The argument for prep schools include the fact that, even though there aren't as many games, teams typically have their own rink on campus and they practice every day.   Add to this the opportunity to play in the midget hockey split season and the number of games turns out to be between 55 and 60.

I would make one more trip back to New Hampshire in November before the midget travel season concluded and Tilton's hockey tryouts would begin.  

Chapter 25: Prep Ho-Go East Young Man

Prep Ho!

Leaves starting to turn in New Hampshire

I should say that the rationale for considering and then sending our son off to prep school in New Hampshire involved more consideration than just the hockey opportunity.  Yes that was the main driver. We were not happy with his local public school.  While attending one of the better schools in San Diego, he was still jammed into classrooms with 35+ other students and was falling through the cracks.  We felt the smaller classes and academic environment of a boarding school would benefit our son.  We also weighed the cost of going to Los Angeles to play AAA hockey and determined that even with the hefty tuition for prep school, it wasn't really that much more than what some families were spending for the hockey and all the travel associated with Tier 1 midget hockey.

So we made the calculation between the hockey opportunity plus the social and academic benefits and decided that he would take the prep school route.  The global economy and my net worth were both teetering on the edge of an unforeseen cliff.  Had I known what was about to transpire I would have to seriously rethink having committed to this course.  That's a different story.

I remember when my son was very young hearing about Wayne Gretzky leaving home at the age of 14.  My wife and I couldn't imagine sending our little boy off to live with strangers at such a young age.  Now at the age of 17 I had no qualms.  I was excited for him and the opportunity that waited. 

My wife and Max flew off to New England.  After thinking about it for such a long time my kid was officially a preppy. And I was officially in debt.  My wife, who had been a stay at home mom for much of the past seventeen years decided to find a way to help pay the freight for this new venture.  She looked for a business idea. That little idea has grown now into an amazing business she started in the middle of the Great Recession. 

Doug with Sidney

I don't recall much of the details of his send off in the Fall of 2008. I was in the midst of dealing with the collapse of Bear Sterns that week.  I called Max today to see if he had any memories that stood out about that trip.  At first he said no but then he remembered. I had booked the flight for him and my wife on Priceline.  Apparently I didn't pay very close attention to the details. As it turned out their flight to Boston went by way of Orlando.   What should have taken 5 hours took closer to 12. Oops, my bad.  They were not happy with me over that one.  

Doug's Lake House

I have a close friend from West Haven High School. His name is Doug Hentz.  Doug lives up in Meredith, NH on Lake Winnipesaukee.  Doug and his family would become Max's local surrogate parents. Meredith, NH is about a half hour away from Tilton.  Max would stay with the Hentzes from time to time and I stayed with them during my many visits over the next couple of years.  They were lifesavers. 

This time Kyle and Max stayed with them for a day or two before Kyle dropped Max off to start school. I'm sure it was an emotional farewell, but I have no details of the event. 

For the next few months I would need to get my hockey fix from our local tier 3 junior team. My friend and Max's previous coach, Bruce Miller made a couple of investments.  He bought both the pro shop at the Escondido Iceoplex as well as the junior team.  Both were purchased from MF Schurman.  In fact, I was part of the investment group that bought the pro shop. 

There were three of us; Bruce, me and Pierre Dufour, that took over the skate shop.  Bruce has a background and a great eye for retail and display.  The next month involved 70 hour weeks remodeling the store. I put in approximately zero of those hours, as I had my full time job at UBS.  

After a month Bruce and Pierre bought me out of my interest.  I got a great return on my investment as well as free skate sharpening and hockey gear at cost. I learned to sharpen skates and I'm sure I saved a ton of money over the next few years.   So I was out of the retail business after barely a month.  By the way, Bruce recently sold the store and my little deal was left out of the equation.  Bummer. 

Back to my hockey fix.  So Max was gone.  Bruce now owned the junior team.  He changed the name from the Surf to the Gulls.  It was a bit of a coup for him to have the rights to that name since it had been controlled by the ECHL minor pro team up until they recently folded.  

AJ Grabowski-Our Billet playing Thursday night pickup
with a borrowed bucket

I stayed involved.  A lot of the kids I'd coached and Max played with were skipping U18 midget and going right to the junior team.  Bruce asked me to handle the video for the team.  So I did that.  And I continued to be a billet house.  We took in two kids.  AJ from Rochester and PJ from Billerica, outside of Boston.  PJ didn't last long. But he owned a car.  AJ lasted all season.  He had to rely on team mates to give him rides to the rink after PJ left. 

Besides doing the Gulls video I was continuing to referee adult league games.  I made plans for the first of six trips this season to visit Max and watch him play. The first trip back was for a Columbus Day tournament.  It would be with the NH Monarchs U18 AAA team during the split travel season prior to the start of the prep season.  

I'll pick up with this trip in the next chapter.