Eating Crow

On Friday night, I was sitting on a bench by myself waiting for the hockey game to start.  I do this a lot.  Or I just sit in my car.   A hockey mom that I haven't talked to in about 6 years, came and sat down next to me.  She said, I've eaten crow a few times over the years.  Parents have to do that sometimes.  I laughed and said, we sure do.  I knew exactly why she sat down next to me.  Six years ago, we had a coach that liked to win.  He liked it more than coaching.   Coaching and winning are different.

The twins were in 6th grade.  Their team had made it to the championship game in Cincinnati.  The boys were so excited.  They couldn't wait to take the ice.  About 10 minutes into the game, I noticed that Hayden had not been on the ice at all.  He was not alone.  There were about 6 other kids that were just sitting there.  I stopped enjoying the game and I wasn't alone.  The kids that were sitting on the bench stopped having fun too.  Some of those kids were only in the 5th grade.   

It was the third period and we were winning, but it didn't matter.  I could see Hayden's head down.  I could see that he wasn't watching the game anymore. When we won and the celebration started, my son was crying.  He wasn't the only one.  There were others.  Several kids were crying.  Their team had just won the lower bracket of the Bronze medal game.  Let me repeat that.  The Blades were playing in the lower level of a bronze medal game. Some teams play for Gold or Silver, but we were in bronze.  Most people don't even know that we have a hockey team in Bloomington.   Hayden did.  

The coach was walking to the locker room and I had to tell him that he had no business coaching little kids.  Someone HAD to tell him.  I sent an email to all involved that it was not ok to bench players for no reason, other than winning.  I was bashed.  Several parents replied to all and called me a horrible parent.  Most of them just stopped talking to me.  They still don't talk to me.  

So, I was sitting there listening to this parent tell me that she had to eat crow.  Her son is a senior this year.  For senior night, the parents of seniors get boards full of pictures ready to display in the lobby.  This parent told me that she was going through old pictures and she found the pictures of that game.  She looked at Hayden's face in the pictures.  Hayden was crying in the picture.  She said, "I tried to crop the picture."  She didn't want anyone to see Hayden like that.  She told me that she sat there and cried looking at his little face.  She said, "I was wrong."  She said, "Hayden is a good hockey player."


Coaching and winning are different. It doesn't matter if Hayden was a good hockey player.  Coaches have a responsibility to all the players on the team, not just the players that he/she thinks are good.  You have to play everyone at that age.  Little kids are still learning and absorbing the world around them.  11/12 year olds don't understand sitting on the bench and watching everyone else play.  They are a part of a team.  They know that they play a position on a certain line.  At this age, they might even know that some kids are better than they are. They also might be aware of the kid that is in the  penalty box all the time.  They do know they have to do exactly what the coach says and Hayden did.  If you look up the word coachable in the dictionary, there might be a picture of Hayden.


Hayden cried all the way home that night.  I cried for days.  I was so angry and upset.  I replayed that game in my mind over and over again.  What should I have done differently?   Should I have walked out onto the ice and grabbed both of my kids and told the coach that we were leaving?  Henry played a bunch during that game.  I swore that my children would never play for that man again and they haven't. 

After the mom talked to me, I told Hayden about it and he said, I remember that game.  "I remember asking the coach with my voice quivering, when can my line go out?  The coach didn't even look at me."  For senior night, the seniors had to choose one teammate as their favorite player.  That kid, whose mom bashed me, chose Hayden.