“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” These are either the famous words of Wayne Gretzky or Michael Scott, depending on your familiarity with NBC’s The Office.
They also happen to be the words on the wall of my sons’ bedroom and a reminder that the only way to guarantee failure is to never even try.
This weekend marks the fifth anniversary of my decision to fully embrace this philosophy, as I prepare to skate in my eighth adult hockey tournament. I grew up a hockey fan, watching the North Stars until they relocated and emulating the Mighty Ducks when playing on the street in front of my house, but ice hockey was expensive and I never learned to skate. At least, not until I was an adult and married to a former hockey player while raising three Huron All Stars.
Five years ago, some friends suggested I join them in a tournament, knowing I had been working on my skating and loved the game – mind you, I had never even worn hockey equipment. Fortunately for anyone who attended that tournament for a laugh, I agreed and I made my first attempt at hockey a month later. I quickly realized how slow I was as I gently skated myself into the boards with no opponents near me. At one point I just stood there, on the ice, and watched everyone skate by in a blur, realizing how much faster this was than my childhood sport of soccer. My family and the rest of the audience had a good laugh, and I was incredibly humbled by my lack of performance, thinking this was probably a mistake.
I sat in the locker room between the second and third periods with my head hanging low, realizing I was adding nothing to the game. Noticing my despair, a teammate spoke up and changed my entire perspective. He reminded me that everyone in that room had been doing this since they were five or six years old, while I was making my debut at thirty-five. Someone else said they wouldn’t even consider trying if they hadn’t played when they were young. That’s when I realized that I was the worst hockey player in the tournament, but at least I was there. I was sore from falling and I had only touched the puck once in the entire weekend, but I was there.
After that weekend, I continued to skate, and I began looking for new challenges. I ran my first 5k, then a 10k, and then a half-marathon. I finished my degree and then started graduate school. I took over as the general manager of a newspaper, then publisher of two newspapers, and eventually two more. Then, with some encouragement, I began writing again.
While I hate to admit that I’m still a terrible hockey player, I will boast that I’m at the Bergman Arena almost every Wednesday night, occasionally dressing as a backup goaltender when the regulars can’t make it. I still miss 100% of the shots I take, but at least I’m taking them.
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