Alright, let’s talk about this “Impact Hockey” thing I went through. It’s a term we kinda coined ourselves, but it perfectly describes a period at one of my old spots. You know, one of those places where everything had to be high-impact, fast, and a bit rough around the edges, just like a hockey game where you’re always on the verge of getting checked into the boards.
The “Game Plan” as they called it
So, the idea, or the “game plan” as management loved to call it, was all about quick wins and visible results. Every project was a slapshot towards the net. We were supposed to be agile, lean, mean – all those buzzwords. The focus was always on the next big thing that would make a splash, something to show off to the higher-ups or the market.
- We’d start projects with a ton of energy.
- We’d cut corners, “to be fast,” they said.
- Documentation? “We’ll do it later,” which meant never.
- Team meetings were more like pre-game pep talks, heavy on hype, light on actual strategy.
We’d jump from one “impact” project to another. Finish one, or more often, get it to a “good enough” state, and then boom, onto the next high-stakes game. It was exhausting, to be honest. Like playing back-to-back overtime periods every single day.
The Reality on the “Ice”
The reality was, well, a bit of a mess. It was less like professional hockey and more like a chaotic pond hockey game with no refs. Things got dropped, quality suffered, and burnout was a real thing. We were making an “impact,” alright, but sometimes it felt like the impact was mostly on our own team’s morale and sanity.
I remember this one “Impact Hockey” project clearly. We were supposed to launch a new feature in record time. The pressure was immense. We pulled all-nighters, fueled by stale coffee and the fear of not meeting the insane deadline. We did launch it, technically. It was full of bugs, of course. But hey, it made an “impact” for the press release, right?
This whole approach actually reminds me of why I even ended up in that kind of environment. A few years before that gig, I was working at a much slower, more methodical company. Really stable, almost too stable, you know? Then they had this big restructuring. My whole department got a bit shaken up. They brought in new leadership with all these grand ideas about “disruption” and “velocity.” That’s when the whispers of needing to play “Impact Hockey” started.
I was actually on vacation when the biggest changes hit. I’d saved up for ages, went on this hiking trip, completely off the grid. Came back tanned and relaxed, ready to get back to my calm, predictable work. Walked in, and it was like a different company. Half the familiar faces were gone. My old manager, a really decent guy, had been “reassigned” to a project that didn’t exist. My keycard barely worked on the new fancy doors they’d installed.
They sat me down and told me about the “new, dynamic, high-impact culture.” That’s when I first heard the term, or something very much like “Impact Hockey,” being thrown around. I tried to adapt. I really did. For a while, the adrenaline was even a bit exciting. But after a year of constant “game-time” pressure, of chasing those “impacts” while the foundations crumbled, I was done.
It’s funny, I bumped into one of my old colleagues from that “Impact Hockey” place the other day. He told me they’re still at it, still chasing those quick wins. Apparently, they just landed a big new client based on a flashy demo of something held together with digital duct tape. Some things never change, I guess. Me? I’m glad I hung up my skates from that particular team. Sometimes, slow and steady really does win the race, or at least lets you sleep at night.
