A Special Slice of Hell
Cruising past Judas in Dante’s 9thcircle of hell with a wave and a wistful look of envy, because where we are going is far worse. Lucifer himself dare not venture into this realm – the emotions too raw, the stakes too high. TRY OUTS.
I still pour myself a glass of wine just to sooth the savagery of the memories as I type and preemptively prepare myself for the years ahead as this just gets worse.
I once again caveat this post with the fact that for year one at the U12 level for the girls, they found a place for everyone since they did have a developmental team. So, the fact that my daughter had only been on skates for maybe 2 months, let alone with a hockey stick in her hand.
I stared at the other parents, some pacing unable to watch, some drinking their coffee in long drags like a cigarette, some wringing their hands at near violent levels. Their voices wavering, shrill and the few that seemed calm had a razor edge to their words. This was high stakes. Tier I versus Tier II, which age group etc. Again, I was content knowing that she would have a place on developmental and didn’t understand the stress.
I Get It Now
The next April, I got it. I got it hard.
My daughter was aging up to Bantam a year into her hockey career and competing against kids that had skated since they could walk. She had improved dramatically thanks to Coach S, looking to bend the curve in her favor. She attended the pre-tryout clinics, signed up and the dates were set.
Now the pressure started building. The what ifs started to creep in and the secret alternative option planning needed to start. I looked around for other girl’s teams in the area. One I knew was in serious financial trouble, one was new and most were mixed.
E loved her team. I grew up with them as the local team at the local rink and they have a very solid reputation for their organization at all levels. This was where she wanted to stay and she was doing everything to make it happen.
Hard Truths
After three days of try-outs the lists went up and her name wasn’t on it.
To her credit she held it together till we got to the car and then the torrent of tears flowed like the river Nile during the rainy season. This broke her in some way. The first real taste of putting in 110% and still coming up short. The first bitter pill of the realities of life.
We assured her that she would still play and we would find a new team and that she would come back to these try-outs stronger next year, more prepared as a better player. As the emotions ebbed and she worked through the proverbial stages of tryout grief, we knew she would be okay. The passion to play was still there and she was more dedicated to coming back better.
We contacted a few of the all-girls teams we could find and they would let her tryout, but there was just something in our gut that didn’t feel right. Going into the completely unknown with such a large investment of time and money wasn’t sitting well.
Finding a New Home
As if by divine intervention, her coach told us about a mixed bantam team that was coached by one of the coaches that he knows and works with. After getting past our reservations about her playing with the boys and being allowed a late evaluation since we were away during tryouts, she found her new home with her current team. There are even two other girls on the team and they are gelling well.
She has found her home for now. Down the road she will likely need to go back and make a Tier I with the all-girls original team for scouting purposes, but for now she is far happier at her new team and plans to stay put for as long as possible, which is just fine by me. Happy hockey player, happy hockey mom!
