Okay so here’s what went down with that hockey roster gig today. Woke up early thinking this would be simple – just grab names and faces for Groton, right? How hard could listing players be? Ha. Famous last words.
First Moves & False Confidence
Trotted down to the rink around 9 AM, trusty notepad and pen in pocket. Figured I’d just chat folks up as they arrived. Saw the team manager near the locker room entrance, gave her my brightest “I’m harmless and organized” smile. “Hey! Here to build that roster page!” She just kinda nodded, super busy looking, waved me towards the benches. “Stuff’s chaotic today. Find Coach Mark if you can.” Cool. Fine. I could hunt down a coach.
Chaos is a Cold Rink
Barely inside and bam – pure madness. Teenagers everywhere, bags dumped all over, sticks clattering, parents asking questions non-stop. Three different assistants buzzed past me holding clipboards, talking about missing forms. Couldn’t tell who was staff or just a loud parent. Found a guy in a whistle yelling drill instructions – that had to be a coach. “Coach Mark?” He spun around. “Who’s asking? And why aren’t you wearing a visitor pass?” Dang. Security stuff I totally blanked on. He pointed sharply towards the front office. “Go sort it there first. Can’t have random folks milling about unsupervised. Liability.” Felt like a rookie getting benched.
The Paperwork Gauntlet
Office lady gave me major side-eye. She slid over some clip-art heavy safety agreement and a visitor sticker that barely stuck. “Next time email ahead. Coaches get twitchy.” Took ten minutes just to get cleared. By the time I got back, practice was in full swing, skates screeching on ice. Forget quiet interviews.
Trying (& Mostly Failing) to Grab Faces
Waited near the boards with my pen ready. Figured I’d catch players as they rotated off. Mistake number two. Half the time they skated right past towards water bottles, faces dripping sweat. Tried calling out names I thought I overheard. One kid yelled back, “Nah, I’m Brett!” over the noise. Another kid just gave a thumbs-up or a nod, impossible to hear. Snapped a few terrible phone pics as they moved – mostly blurry helmets and backs. My list was a hot mess: “Defense? Tall guy, blue jersey #4” and “Forward – fast kid, almost fell, dark hair??” Seriously. Got maybe five clear names in twenty minutes.
Hail Mary: Cornering the Coaches
Saw Coach Mark finally alone near the zamboni entrance during a water break. Made a beeline. “Coach! Roster? Need help identifying…” He pulled a crumpled folded paper from his jacket pocket. “Got the latest right here.” It had names, numbers, positions – finally! Looked like it survived a mud run. Started copying frantically before he got pulled away. “The goalties – twins – they’re always late,” he threw over his shoulder as another coach yelled for him. “Check-ins might have ‘em.”
The Information Goldmine (Sort Of)
Heading out, I spotted the team manager again near the check-in table. Showed her my messy notes and Coach Mark’s relic of a roster. She sighed, pulled out her iPad, and scrolled. “This updated ten minutes ago. Keep up.” Bam! Crisp digital list with all 22 players, positions, year in school, even hometowns. Assistants names right below the main coaches. Way more detail than I ever got from my ice-side stalking. “Can I…?” She just nodded tiredly, already turning to yell about lost keys. Scanned that screen like my life depended on it. Victory.
Lessons Learned the Hard Way
So what worked? Honestly? Mostly luck and finding the one person with the actual, official digital thing. What bombed?
- Thinking on-ice observation would be enough. Noise, movement, helmets – terrible.
- Underestimating the security/paperwork crap. Got flagged immediately.
- Coaches are ghosts during practice. They ain’t chatting about rosters mid-drill.
- The official list exists for a reason. Should’ve hassled management FIRST, not chased coaches.
Got the roster built finally, sitting warm at my laptop. But man, thought it was just typing words. Nope. It’s navigating rink politics, dodging flying pucks, and deciphering coach-speak while pushing back against dang teenage chaos. Next time? I’m bringing coffee for the office lady and begging for that digital list BEFORE I even step near the ice. Lesson stamped onto my brain.
