Women excel at hockey. Women are expert skaters. Women teach. Women coach. Yet, when a man steps on the ice he is king even as he falls on his butt, trips over his own stick and faces the entire practice away from the players so he can’t be heard. If you are a female hockey coach, coaching boys in particular, good luck. You’ve got your work cut out for you. You have entered the hallowed frozen ground of a sport owned by men.
It starts out okay. You are full of enthusiasm, high hopes and great ideas, idealistic as a high school senior. You prepare your team all week at practice. You make up practice plans. You schlep the water bottles, pucks, cones, first aid kit, pinnies and game shirts. You spend your own money for hockey training aids and stickhandling balls. You coach hockey. Your kids are disciplined. They know the game better than they did when they started. They skate better. Their puck handling and passing have improved. You’ve taught them how to take and give a check.
You show up early for your first game, in your official coaching jacket in the team colors with Coach embroidered on the arm. You enter the rink office and ask for the key to the locker room. The attendant says, “You have to wait for the coach.” You explain, awkwardly, to the young woman (ironic, eh?) that you are the coach. You go to your locker room and start hanging the shirts. The timekeeper comes in and hands the time sheet to the nearest person with a short haircut. You turn and say, “Excuse me, I’m the coach.” You get a look, not an apology. Then, during the game, you are on the bench and a parent starts slapping the glass behind you. “Hey, you have to be patched to be on the bench.” The parent then interrupts the game and the referee, points at you in front of the players, parents and your colleagues and says, “She doesn’t belong there.” You pull out your USA Hockey Gold ID that indicates you are Level 5 certified, the highest certification available in USA Hockey. And you are the only one showing your identification card. No doubt some of the guys on the benches aren’t patched at all. But no other coach is asked to prove he is qualified. They don’t have to prove anything because they have… well, you get it…
So why do I take it? Well, because I can. I am strong, speak softly and carry a pink stick. Drop the puck!
It starts out okay. You are full of enthusiasm, high hopes and great ideas, idealistic as a high school senior. You prepare your team all week at practice. You make up practice plans. You schlep the water bottles, pucks, cones, first aid kit, pinnies and game shirts. You spend your own money for hockey training aids and stickhandling balls. You coach hockey. Your kids are disciplined. They know the game better than they did when they started. They skate better. Their puck handling and passing have improved. You’ve taught them how to take and give a check.
You show up early for your first game, in your official coaching jacket in the team colors with Coach embroidered on the arm. You enter the rink office and ask for the key to the locker room. The attendant says, “You have to wait for the coach.” You explain, awkwardly, to the young woman (ironic, eh?) that you are the coach. You go to your locker room and start hanging the shirts. The timekeeper comes in and hands the time sheet to the nearest person with a short haircut. You turn and say, “Excuse me, I’m the coach.” You get a look, not an apology. Then, during the game, you are on the bench and a parent starts slapping the glass behind you. “Hey, you have to be patched to be on the bench.” The parent then interrupts the game and the referee, points at you in front of the players, parents and your colleagues and says, “She doesn’t belong there.” You pull out your USA Hockey Gold ID that indicates you are Level 5 certified, the highest certification available in USA Hockey. And you are the only one showing your identification card. No doubt some of the guys on the benches aren’t patched at all. But no other coach is asked to prove he is qualified. They don’t have to prove anything because they have… well, you get it…
So why do I take it? Well, because I can. I am strong, speak softly and carry a pink stick. Drop the puck!
No comments:
Post a Comment