Dialectics: School and Hockey

"Growing up, if I hadn't had sports, I don't know where I'd be. God only knows what street corners I'd have been standing on and God only knows what I'd have been doing, but instead I played hockey and went to school and stayed out of trouble." ~Bobby Orr



Right now, hockey and school are the two most important things to me. I live to play hockey; I have to go to school. I say, "I do well in school so I can play hockey," and it's true.

There's so many people that I know that just focus on one or the other and, with a few exceptions, I don't think any of them are truly happy. The level I play at is filled with D1 prospects and girls who are hoping to play in the Olympics someday. All they ever think about and do is play hockey, but their grades suck, and it's not because they're not smart, it's because they think that their only ticket into college is hockey. They've been ignoring their schoolwork while they go off to tournaments in Boston, Toronto, Detroit, and St. Paul for so long that they don't even know how to be a good student anymore; they're stuck with what they've got. A bad game in front of a scout for them is like getting a sub-par score on the ACT for anyone else; their future is depending on it and that's just not gonna cut it. Ultimately, they've made a choice between hockey and school, and it's too late by 11th grade for them to turn that around.

On the other hand, there's so many people that I know from school who's only focus is what grade they got on their reading quiz. School is their sport, and they have practice 24/7. Every little grade counts and there's always room for improvement. The downside of this attitude is, of course, that nothing is ever good enough. Their lives are consumed with grades, books, tests, and nothing else. I don't even know what they do on the weekends or for fun... extra credit maybe??

Personally, I consider myself lucky because, even though they encourage me to be the best athlete I can be, my parents have never settled for anything but excellent grades. The fact that I'm not going to be playing hockey if I get bad grades is overtly evident in my life. My mom always says that I'm going to get far with my "brains not my brawn," which I concede is probably true, but that doesn't change the fact that I love hockey a thousand times more than I like school.

I know that not everyone will believe me on this one but there was a time around seventh and eighth grade when I didn't want to work in school, and all I thought about was going to the rink; all I did was practice my slapshot; all I did was stickhandle. Luckily for me, it was middle school and I could have gotten As with a blindfold on, earphones in, and my arms tied behind my back. But my parents noticed my lack of effort, and they made me realize that hockey can't be the priority because I'm not going to get into college and get a job because of it; school has to be the focus.

I'm mature enough now to agree with them, and I think that I've found the perfect balance between the two. Yes, it does suck to have to write your English paper on a plane on the way to Connecticut. Yes, being tired on Mondays from a long weekend on the road, or during the week from late night practices, and having to concentrate in French class, when all you want to do is sleep, does suck. No, sleeping on hotel mattresses every other weekend isn't always fun. But I love hockey and I do it all so I can play. The best feeling in the world is walking onto that plane or driving away in that car with some hardware, eagerly awaiting next weekend's tournament because you know that you're going to get some more (although that usually lasts for a few minutes before you realize you have to study for your history exam... and do your chem report.) Honestly, I think that I have to work harder than most other Academy students, or honors students, or elite level hockey players because I excel in both academics and hockey; I'm motivated to work harder in school because I want so desperately to play. And, in the end, it's worth all of that time, all of those miles, all of those late nights and early mornings, essay revisions, flashcards, and bruises to hold that championship trophy in one hand and that report card gleaming with a 4.8 in the other.