Alright, so folks keep asking me about this “Brendan Giles hockey” stuff, or more like, how I tried to make sense of some of the things I saw or heard about his style. It wasn’t like I had a direct line to the guy, you know? It was more like piecing together bits from here and there, trying to see if any of it actually worked for an average joe like me on the ice, or even just for fun in the driveway.
Getting Started with the “Giles Glide”
So, I got this idea in my head after watching some clips. There was this one particular move, let’s call it the “Giles Glide” for lack of a better term – not an official name, just what I called it. It looked like he could protect the puck while almost floating sideways, super deceptive. I thought, “Hey, I could use some of that!” My puck protection is, well, let’s just say it’s seen better decades.
So, the first step? I grabbed my old stick, a couple of pucks, and headed out to the garage. I figured, how hard could it be? Famous last words, right? I tried to break it down from what I saw. It seemed to involve a lot of edge work, a low center of gravity, and this weird sort of shoulder fake.
The Actual Grind and… Well, the Grind
I spent a good few afternoons on it. My process was pretty straightforward, or so I thought:
- Watched the fuzzy clips I could find, over and over. Paused. Rewound. Squinted.
- Attempted the basic posture. Felt like I was gonna throw my back out.
- Tried to move with the puck in that stance. Lost it. A lot. Sent pucks flying into old paint cans.
- Focused on just the footwork, then just the stickwork, then tried to combine them. It was like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach while tap-dancing.
Honestly, it was mostly just me looking like a fool. My knees were aching, my wrists felt tweaked. I started to think, maybe this move isn’t for mortals. Or maybe, just maybe, what you see a pro do at game speed, with their level of conditioning and years of specific training, isn’t something you can just pick up on a Tuesday afternoon.
I even tried to explain it to my kid, who plays a bit. He just gave me that look, you know, the one that says “Dad, you’re embarrassing me.” So much for passing on legendary techniques.
What I Figured Out in the End
So, did I master the “Giles Glide”? Absolutely not. Not even close. I probably looked more like a confused crab than a slick hockey player. But I did realize a few things. Chasing these super specific, highlight-reel moves is often a waste of time if you don’t have the absolute basics nailed down solid. It’s like trying to build a fancy roof on a house with no foundation.
It reminds me of this time, years ago, at this small company I worked for. We weren’t in sports, totally different field, making custom machine parts. Some hotshot consultant came in, sold the boss on this super complex, “revolutionary” inventory management system. It had all the bells and whistles, AI-powered predictions, cloud-based everything. Looked amazing on paper, just like that Giles move looked on video.
We spent months trying to implement it. Months! Training sessions, data entry until our eyes bled, endless meetings. The old guys on the shop floor, who knew every part by feel and where it was supposed to be, they just shook their heads. The system was too clunky, too theoretical. It didn’t understand the real flow of our little workshop. It kept flagging things we knew were fine and missing stuff that was critical. We ended up with more lost parts and production delays than before. After about six months of pure chaos, the boss quietly told us to go back to our old “inefficient” spreadsheets and a lot of shouting across the room. Things immediately got better.
And that’s kind of how I feel about trying to just copy-paste some elite pro’s signature move. The context is everything. Their skill, their body, their teammates, the game situation – it all plays a part. For the rest of us, sometimes sticking to the fundamentals and what actually works for you is the smarter play. So yeah, my “Brendan Giles hockey” experiment was a bit of a bust in terms of skill acquisition, but it was a good reminder of that old lesson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my driveway pucks are calling.
