Man, when I hung up my skates after that last knee injury, I felt totally lost. Like, who was I if not Anthony Cafarelli the hockey player? For weeks I just moped around rewatching old game tapes, until my buddy Jim threw a coaching brochure at me and said “stop being a sad sack”.
Baby steps into coaching
First thing I did? Dug out my high school playbook from 2006 – yellowed pages and everything. Stood in my garage flipping through drills like some clueless grandpa. My wife walked in and deadass asked if I was having a midlife crisis.
Next morning I showed up at my old community rink, shaking like a leaf. Started with the squirts – eight-year-olds who couldn’t even hold their sticks right. One kid kept trying to check the ice resurfacer. I thought “Christ, I used to play against NHL enforcers”.
Getting my butt kicked
- Tried teaching positioning – kids formed a conga line instead
- Showed tape-to-tape passes – pucks ended up in the penalty box
- Demoed slapshots – shattered Mrs. Henderson’s windshield
Assistant coach pulled me aside: “They’re kids, not mini-pros. Dial it down, Cafarelli.” That stung worse than any blocked shot ever did.
Lightbulb moments
Started noticing things I never saw as a player – like how Joey would drift toward the boards whenever his parents argued. Or how Maya scored more when we stopped yelling corrections after every shift. Realized coaching wasn’t about systems; it was about seeing people.
Biggest wake-up call? Running my first varsity practice. Had this hotshot defenseman who skated circles around everyone. Gave him my best “hustle” speech after he dogged it during drills. Kid just stared at his skates and muttered “My mom’s starting chemo tomorrow.” Felt like such an ass.
Nowadays
Still carry my old player notebook in my bag – now it’s scribbled with stuff like “remember Sarah hates loud whistles” and “check if Matt ate lunch”. The game looks completely different from behind the bench. Watching Jenna finally connect on a breakout pass after weeks of work? Better than any hat trick I ever scored.
Yeah I miss playing sometimes. But seeing that light click on behind a kid’s eyes when they get it? That’s a whole new kind of rush. Still screw up daily though – last week I accidentally ran practice in my house slippers. Some habits die hard.
