Alright, so you’re asking about the Lovell Hockey tryouts. Yeah, we’ve been down that road. More than once, actually. It’s quite the experience, let me tell you, and definitely not just a casual skate-around.
First off, you gotta get registered. That usually means watching your email like a hawk for the announcement, then scrambling to sign up before the good slots are gone. Already feels like a competition before you even smell the rink.
The Tryout Gauntlet
Then comes the actual tryout period. We usually show up early, find a parking spot if we’re lucky, and then it’s the whole ritual of getting the kid geared up. The locker rooms are always buzzing – nervous kids, equally nervous parents trying to look calm. It’s a scene.
Once they hit the ice, it’s pretty structured. They usually run them through a series of drills. You’ll see stuff like:
- Skating drills – forwards, backwards, crossovers, tight turns. They really watch their edges.
- Puck control drills – stickhandling through cones, keeping their head up.
- Shooting drills – trying to pick corners, quick releases.
- Sometimes some one-on-one battles, or two-on-twos.
The coaches, they’re all there. Standing around, clipboards in hand, not smiling much. You try not to make eye contact, but you’re also trying to see if they’re looking at your kid. It’s a weird dynamic.
After the drills, there’s usually a scrimmage. This is where you really see them play, or try to. Sometimes it’s organized chaos, other times you see some good plays. You’re just hoping your kid gets a chance to show what they can do, makes a good pass, takes a decent shot, doesn’t totally flub it.
And as a parent, you’re just… waiting. Sitting in those cold rink seats, sipping lukewarm coffee if you remembered to bring any. You chat with other parents, mostly small talk, everyone sizing each other up a little bit, even if they don’t mean to. The tension is thick enough to cut with a skate blade.
The Big “Why” and a Little Story
You know, my youngest, for his first big tryout a few years back – not Lovell, but similar vibe – he was so wound up he could barely tie his own skates. I remember asking him if he even wanted to go through with it. He just nodded, eyes wide. He went out there, fell a bunch, but he kept getting up. Didn’t make the top team that year, not even close. But the next year? He was a little more prepared, a little less terrified. It’s a process, I guess.
People always ask, “Is it worth all this stress? For the kids, for us?” And honestly, some days I’m not sure. It’s a huge commitment. Time, money, emotional energy. But then you see your kid really try, really push themselves, maybe they make a great play or just show some grit. And you think, okay, maybe there’s something to this. It’s not just about the hockey, it’s about them learning to handle a bit of pressure, learning to compete, learning to deal with disappointment too. That’s a big one.
Let’s be real though, sometimes it feels like the decisions are made before the kids even step on the ice. You see familiar faces, hear the rink gossip. It’s hard not to get cynical. But you try to tell your kid to just control what they can control – their effort, their attitude.
The Aftermath
And then, after what feels like an eternity, the tryouts end. Then more waiting for the emails or the list to be posted. Your stomach is in knots. Then the news comes. Either they made it, or they didn’t. It’s pretty black and white, but the feelings are all shades of gray. If they make it, there’s relief, excitement. If not, well, that’s a tough conversation. But you deal with it. You have to.
So yeah, that’s the Lovell Hockey tryout experience from my perspective. It’s intense. It’s a whole family affair. But if your kid loves hockey and wants to play at that level, it’s just part of the game. You gear up, you show up, and you see what happens. Then you get ready to do it all over again next year.
