Let’s face it: I was no hockey talent. Not at all. And to abandon hockey at some point was just a logical step. But when my daughter found some photographs from my youth including a few team photos of my former team it seemed to be the (almost) perfect motive to have a look back into my career(?) as an active hockey player.
The Beginnings
As far as I remember I was about 8 or 9 years old, when my dad took me to the rink and handed me over to some youth coach of my home town’s hockey team. Back than the U14 team was the only offering for newbies of whatever age. Not the perfect environment for a rather shy young boy with pretty little self esteem. But they had Miro Berek as one of their coaches. In hindsight one of the best coaches in Austria for quite some time.
So there I was. Went to rink for practicing. Though I had no clue why I did what I did, it seemed OK. Sort of. I was quite a good skater (had been taught skating by a former figure skater). And as the coaches always pointed out that skating was the most impoortant of all skills (“all else follows”), it seemed right. Stickhandling? Shooting? Oh well… Playing games? For a long time I didn’t even realize that the team competed against other teams. Anyway, I continued practicing, winter after winter… Ah, did I mention, we had an open rink back than, so, depending on the weather, ice was available from mid-september (often later) to probably mid-march at the latest. Off-Ice training during summer? No way, hockey was winter sport!
Playing Games
It must have been around 1977 or so that I had my first game apearances, at least for pre-game warmup - and yes, continously I got more and more playing time from my coaches. The 1978-79 season (team picture on the right, can you spot me?) saw me constantly playing in the 3rd line - though, honestly, tougher games were (and in minor hockey unfortunatley often still are - highly depending on the particular coach’s attitude) usually played with only 2 lines…
But something had changed, for the first time I requested my spot in the roster and a reasonable amount of playing time in a game. I felt being treated unfair if that was not the case. What I probably didn’t realize: I still was a bad player. But at least for the first time in my life playing hockey games was what I wanted to do.
Summer of 80
Remember Brian Adams' song Summer of 69?
… should have known we wouldn’t get far…
… those were the best days of my life.
Summer 1980 saw me attending the first (and only) hockey camps in my life, one in Innsbruck/AUT and another one in Kreuzlingen/SUI. I don’t recall much concerning the latter (except travelling all the back home by train, lying on my hockey bag due to a lack of seats available), but the Innsbruck camp left some permanent impression, as former NHL superstar Bobby Orr acted as one of the coaches (more on that in this post).
And indeed the 1980-81 season was the best one I ever had as a player. Constantly played as a 2nd line player, sometimes even advancing into the 1st line, it was by far my best year scoring-wise as well as in terms of time on ice. What was different from the preceding seasons? In hindsight it was for sure partly due to 2 weeks of extra training during the summer (and the extra motivation from working with Bobby Orr), but moreover it was my last U14 year and I was among the oldest players in the league. I still was not a really good player.
The U16 years
After having a reasonably good time in my last U14 year I advanced to the U16 team and there I was again, playing in the 3rd line. Pretty frustrating, but I kept telling myself that things would get better after my first U16 year as I would be among the older players then. Did I ever consider working harder to get better? Unfortunately not. Not at all. I did not miss any practice, I was pretty well-behaved, doing everything coaches demanded, but that was it. I simply had no ambitions to become a better player.
Nontheless the second U16 year (team photo left, me being the second player from the right, standing) seemed to be quite OK. At least for a player with virtually no ambitions. But although being in my last U16 year I was constantly shifted between the 2nd and the 3rd line, scoring was mediocre at best.
And for the first time I started to ask myself if playing hockey felt right for me. Especially concerning the fact I had to move to the next (and back then final) minor hockey age group U21. Quite a step for an (at best) mediocre player, physically inferior compared to the other players. And honestly I was somehow afraid of the U21 coach, well known for being rude and pretty unfair in his treatment of players.
The End
(J. Morrison/The Doors)
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
Well, nontheless I returned to the rink in autumn to start practising with the U21 team. And it didn’t take too long to find myself in the role of the team’s underdog. Not that I didn’t deserve it. We all know the sort of people that get commonly bitten by dogs, just because they trigger the dogs' basic hunting instincts with their obviously anxious behaviour. And within the team I was just that guy, triggering everyone’s bad instincts. Still shy, physically inferior and not being a skilled player.
Somehow surprisingly I did get opportunities to play, if only as a 3rd or 4th liner. But each and every game showed the physical and skills-related shortcomings. As a winger weighing barely 60 kg, going into the corner was really sort of suicide. Hitting me was real fun - for the others…
The whole hockey situation became rather worse than better, with differing personal interests dropping in, e.g. audio electronics and guitar playing, so after a little more than 1 season with the U21 team I finally did what I thought I had to do. I quitted. And all I felt was a big relief. At least for quite a while. I started playing volleyball, suddenly being the sort of ambitious player I never was in hockey. Some time later I played a few hockey games for a beer league team, I didn’t like the team and they didn’t like me. I was completely fed up with hockey. That was it.
Back in the Rink
But nothing lasts forever, not even a man’s decision to never come back. It was 2011, after decades without caring about hockey (it took me years to realize they had abandoned the red line offside rule and that something like “womens' hockey” existed, even on the olympic level) when my daughter met Bill Gilligan’s (who back then was the Graz 99ers' headcoach) daughter at school and made friends with her. Thus getting interested in hockey she started playing in the 99ers' youth organization. And all of a sudden some of us hockey parents decided to establish a beer league team. There I was again, playing hockey. And it felt awsome.
Suddenly hockey was part of my life again, myself playing for several hobby teams (BTW breaking one of my collar bones for the third time in my life) and being a hockey dad for my daughter. And there was yet more to come. Hockey’s great!
