thecoachspodium-blog

[thecoachspodium-blog]

First Impressions: Sam in Novi Sad

by Samuel St. Amour

Samuel St. Amour was a member of the RSEQ provincial champion Cégep André Laurendeau Boomerangs under assistant coach and former HSF coach Matthew Robins. Upon graduating, Sam signed up for HSF and is spending the 2018-2019 season in Novi Sad, Serbia.

I'm at the Loft Coffee downtown Novi Sad right now, nice little place! If you don't mind, I will write you my text in French so it can reflect clearly my first impressions of my experience, here, in Serbia!

Premièrement, nous avons eu un accueil très chaleureux dès notre arrivée! Plusieurs bons repas, une visite guidée de la ville par notre ami Vladan et quelques bières... et rakiaaa! Par la suite, la glace n'étant pas encore prête, nous avons eu la chance de participer à l'une des étape de sa préparation, soit de la peinturer.... Du jamais vu (hahaha) des instruments de peinture fait à la mains... C'était très drôle et très satisfaisant de pouvoir participer à la construction de la glace sur laquelle nous allions pratiquer toute la saison! Comme je l'ai dis un peu plus tôt, les gens ici sont très sympathique! J'ai notamment été épaté par toute l'organisation qui travaille pour le programme des enfants. J'ai ressentis un réel dévouement de toute l'équipe pour offrir la meilleure expérience et le meilleur développement hockey possible aux jeunes.

Par la suite, malgré la barrière de la langue avec les jeunes, quelques blagues, sourires et mots en Serbe on suffit pour créer un lien avec eux. Je dois dire que je me suis vite attaché à eux aussi. Pour la très grande majorité, ils sont attentifs, travaillant et souriant. J'essaie toujours, avant d'embarquer sur la glace, d'aller jaser avec eux pour savoir comment leur journée s'est déroulée. Il est parfois choquant d'entendre les histoires et de voir à quel point certains vivent des événements troublants... Pourtant ils sont toujours présent aux pratiques et sont prêt à embarquer sur la glace lorsque la zamboni conclut son dernier tour de glace. Je dois dire que je me vois un peu dans tout ça! Je me rends compte à quel point enfiler ses patins, sauter sur la patinoire et tout donner peut être libérateur physiquement et psychologiquement. J'ai également remarqué que la discipline sur la patinoire est beaucoup plus stricte qu'au Canada. Ca marche droite comme on dit! De plus, beaucoup des jeunes sont présent à nos parties à domicile lorsque nous jouons et ils sont probablement les plus bruyant lorsque vient le temps de nous encourager. 

Un aspect frustrant c'est le fait que les seuls qui parlent le plus en anglais sont les enfants les plus vieux et ils ne sont pas très nombreux. Les autres groupes ne parlent pratiquement pas anglais. Il est donc difficile de leur expliquer clairement nos corrections. Cederic, Olivier et moi avons décidés de prendre un cours de Serbe à l'Université pour facilit�� notre immersion serbienne! Plusieurs variantes dans leur alphabet et leur prononciation rend la chose parfois difficile, mais je penses que nous allons être pas pire à la fin de notre périple. Sans oublier notre petit café sacré à la fin de chaque cours dans le Coffee Shop du campus.

Pour ce qui est de la Ville de Novi Sad, j'aime particulièrement le Centre-Ville à cause de son architecture, son abondance de petits de cafés/terrasses et ses belles petites rues colorés. C'est une ambiance assez relax, sauf dans les grands boulevards où les klaxons se font aller, les stationnements sont terribles et les chauffeurs sont égales à leurs stationnements. Content que toute la ville se marche facilement.

Pour ce qui est de l'équipe pour qui on joue, tous les gars son ben smart et je penses qu'ils nous aiment bien aussi. Certains sont d'excellent joueurs de hockey et je vois beaucoup d'expérience dans le jeu des plus vieux! Je penses que nous pourrions être une excellente équipe de hockey si tout le monde se souciait un peu plus de l'équipe. Ne pas donner un coup de patin dans les back-checks... ça m'irrite! Spécialement quand on perd 7-0, après 5 heures de bus pour aller en Croatie et jouer contre une équipe avec laquelle nous devrons compétitionner. J'ai lu souvent la phrase : 'It doesn't take talent to hustle', je penses que cette mentalité nous manque!

FUN FACTS :

- Les petites filles sont de loin meilleures que 95% des gars dans les pratiques de hockey. Probablement dû à du patinage artistique lorsqu'elles étaient jeunes! 

- Je dois traîner mon maudit rouleau de papier de toilette partout...

- Aucune sécheuse et moustiquaire dans le pays - on pourrait se partir des business à la tonne ici!  

- Le tape pour les jambière de hockey c'est le même que pour fermer des boîtes de cartons...

- Les batteries de Xbox ne sont pas compatibles ici... on a brisé nos deux console la semaine dernière en les branchant au mur... c'est peut-être un signe!

- Lorsqu'on te dis qu'on reçoit quelque chose demain, cela veut dire dans un range de 1 à 2 semaines!

- Il m'appel 'San' ici ce qui veut dire 'Rêver' en Serbe... j'aime bien!

C'est ce qui me vient à la tête pour l'instant.

I would like to thank you HSF, I think we are going to learn multiple things and have a lot of fun this year!

[thecoachspodium-blog]

First Impressions: Jon in Kaunas

by Jon Stephansson

Jon joins Alex in Kaunas for his first experience with Lithuanian hockey. Both will be spending the 2018-2019 season coaching youth hockey and playing on the local senior team.

Within the first few weeks of being in Lithuania, I witnessed many things that I’d never witnessed before. In the days leading up to my trip overseas, I felt as though I was fully prepared for the changes that the country would bring into my life. I was wrong. Luckily, I had another native English speaker with me. Alex and I were able to figure out most of what we needed to do and where we needed to go.

Having said that, the first few days in Kaunas were a bit of a whirlwind. There was a fair bit of disorganization and my days consisted of me sort of “winging it” so to speak. I was basically told I was coming to the captain of my team’s wedding the second day I was in Kaunas. It was a great time and allowed me to meet some teammates/supporters of the team.

After we found an apartment, our daily routine slowly began to take shape with many adjustments and on-the-fly decisions along the way. Especially in the first 2-3 weeks, it was obvious that things got done at a slower pace than we expected. There is only so much we can do when it comes to getting home supplies, Wi-Fi, etc. set up. Simple things like dropping off a Wi-Fi router at our house took a full week to do. However, this gave us time to explore many museums, churches and historical centres, which helped us gain an appreciation not only for the country of Lithuania, but for the history of humankind in general. It really gave me perspective on human sociology and how we interact with each other and what motivates humans as a species.

Our team’s first exhibition game was in Riga, Latvia. We had about 10 skaters and 2 goalies. Afterwards, the Latvian team we played treated us to a great meal that included a beer. Of all the years I’ve been playing hockey, I’ve never had a beer with my team eating a post game meal. We then headed to watch the Riga Dinamo of the KHL host HC Sibir Novosibirsk. The game was fantastic and the enthusiasm of the fans made the experience that much better. Any time the puck was remotely close to the net, the crowd would belt out cheers in anticipation. If the Dinamo scored, they would explode. Our first regular season game in Elektranai, Lithuania was so different- we travelled there with 11 skaters and 2 goalies. Alex got kicked out in the first period, which left us with 4 defensemen and 6 forwards on an Olympic ice surface.

We’ve still yet to have a practice with more than 15 skaters which makes things very interesting. It is disappointing having to practice with so few players but I make the best of it by working as hard as I can. At least I’m getting tons of reps in and getting in great shape! One of the weirdest things about our team is that we use hangers to hang up our equipment after each ice time. We don’t have our own dressing room at the rink so our team supplies us with a storage container located in the parking lot. It is heated and dries our gear out but hauling my equipment into and out of the rink every ice time can get tiresome. Another odd happening at the rink is when we practice right after the curlers. The sport of curling is not played on smooth ice like hockey is. To allow for the rock to slide easier, they generate pebbled ice. This actually makes a hockey puck slide worse and forms a slight challenge for us—especially when they don’t flood the ice after curling practice. This happens about once a week where we have to take into account the fact that there is slower ice in the middle of the ice surface and faster ice on the outside.

As we started coaching, it soon became evident how much less funding goes into minor hockey compared to North America. Every session we see kids without hockey socks, stick tape, jerseys, gloves, etc. and most players wear their team game jerseys as opposed to a practice jersey. One thing I noticed early on in the attitude of the players is when they make a mistake during a drill; they’ll just stop and go to the back of the line. I believe this is because they are embarrassed and want to spare themselves of feeling any further shame. After seeing this, Alex and I constantly preach about how it’s okay to make mistakes. We want to help players overcome their obstacles.

Instead of practicing with their certain teams, players of similar age come out and skate together regardless of the team they play on or skill level. This is in part due to a high demand for ice as the sport grows in Lithuania. Often times when we come to coach, there are so many players at the rink that the dressing rooms are packed with people. Players are then forced to get dressed in the lobby of the arena or on benches in the rink itself.

There are so many things that I’ve experienced here in Kaunas that I’ve never experienced before. It’s hard to keep track of all the experiences but I will continue to journal my thoughts so that one day I can look back on them and laugh. It’s been a weird, fun, and all around wild learning experience so far and I’m looking forward to more of it in the months to come.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

First Impressions: Alex in Kaunas

by Alex Martel

Alex joins Jon in Kaunas for his first experience with Lithuanian hockey. Both will be spending the 2018-2019 season coaching youth hockey and playing on the local senior team.  A new country, new sights, and new smells awaited me as I stepped off of the plane when I arrived in Kaunas, Lithuania. Lithuania was a country I had heard very little of before arriving. 

The only thing I knew was that Lithuanians were known for their basketball. As I began to walk around the city of Kaunas, I slowly began to realize that Lithuania has a long and very interesting history. I was amazed at the fact that there were buildings older than the United States and Canada. During my time in Lithuania, I will have plenty of time to explore the many sights, museums, and buildings. 

I did not know what to expect from the playing and coaching side of things when I arrived in Kaunas. Instead of having a locker room to keep our gear in at the rink, we have a heated storage shed outside of the rink. I wasn’t really sure how the level of hockey was going to be. However, my concerns were instantly put to rest during my first skate with the team. 

They made me feel a part of the team as soon as I stepped foot into the locker room. Everyone there came up to me, shook my hand, and introduced themselves. The level of play and intensity was exactly what I was looking for.

 Since then, we have been played a friendly game in Latvia and a hand full of league games. The style of play was really the only thing that I found surprising. The rules are slightly different and there is way less hitting. I can also say that I am currently the league leader in penalty minutes, which I hope changes really soon.My first experience with coaching was very interesting. I was dodging cars in the parking lot trying to avoid being hit. As I stepped into the rink, I was met with a lobby packed with parents getting their kids ready for practice. Not only was the lobby full, but kids were pouring out of the locker rooms heading to the ice. The coaches greeted us and we talked about the practice plans that Jon and I had put together. On the ice we had around sixty skaters with ages varying from 8 to 17 years old, which seemed insane to me. With all of this going on, we made it through the practice. Now it’s something that we don’t even think about anymore, it’s just another day at the rink.

Every day brings the opportunity for many new experiences. I plan on enjoying these experiences and my time overseas. I will be spending my free time exploring Lithuania and other countries. I will also continue to share the experiences I had playing hockey in North American with all of the players I have an opportunity to coach and play with.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Tournoi magique pour l’équipe féminine de Subotica

par Marimée Godbout-Parent

Marimée est étudiante et joueuse de hockey pour les Gee Gees de l’Université de Ottawa. Elle a prit une pause dans sa carrière pour aller être entraîneure à Novi Sad, Serbie pour le club HK Vojvodina. 

Un nouveau pays, pleins de nouvelles aventures incroyables et de rencontres inoubliables en cette année avec Hockey Sans Frontière. Un souvenir particulier restera gravé dans ma mémoire pour toujours. C’est pratiquement la fin de la saison et je pars en tournoi avec les jeunes filles serbes pour un tournoi en Bosnie-et-Herzégovine. C’est la première fois que je m’apprête à aller dans ce pays et première fois que je suis entraîneure en chef pour un tournoi à l’extérieur. Je suis un peu nerveuse, mais les enfants sont tellement faciles à entrainer que le stress est vite retombé. Le tournoi commence le samedi matin. Je rencontre les filles, prépare mon alignement et apprend à connaitre le nom de mes joueuses ce qui n’est pas nécessairement une tâche facile. Un vocabulaire serbe limité mélangé avec quelques mots anglais et des dessins ont permis de nous comprendre. La passion du hockey qui nous réunit les joueuses et moi nous fait oublier la barrière de la langue à laquelle nous devront faire face durant le week-end.

Tout est prêt pour commencer le tournoi. Les filles jouent 5 parties par jour sur la glace qui est divisée en 3 zones. L’important pour moi dans ce tournoi : que les filles aient du plaisir tout en apprenant. Il s’agit d’un tournoi d’une assez grande envergure pour ces filles. Elles jouent contre les garçons de la Serbie, de la Croatie et de la Bosnie. Cependant, elles ne se laissent aucunement impressionner et donnent de solides performances sur la glace. Les victoires n’étaient pas prévues, mais finalement les filles réussissent à gagner quasiment toutes leurs parties. Leurs sourires aux lèvres après ces victoires rendent la victoire encore plus savoureuse.

Après une longue journée à l’aréna, je prends la soirée pour aller visiter Sarajevo, la capitale de la Bosnie avec les parents des joueuses. Parce que c’est aussi ça Hockey Sans Frontières, visiter de nouveaux endroits que tu n’aurais probablement jamais pensé visiter auparavant. On mange un met typiquement bosnien, on visite le centre-ville et j’apprécie chaque moment.

Durant cette fin de semaine, j’ai la chance de donner un cadeau à mes joueuses, soit un nouveau bâton de hockey pour chacune d’entre d’elles. Un nouveau bâton est quelque chose de banal pour nous les Canadiens, mais pour ces petites filles serbes c’est complètement diffèrent. On rejoue 5 parties le dimanche et ensuite, avec l’aide des autres entraîneurs serbes, on réunit les filles pour la réception de leur cadeau.

C’est ce moment qui restera gravé à tout jamais dans ma mémoire. Je remets les bâtons, tout le monde sourit et pleure de joie. Les parents n’arrêtent pas de me remercier et ont aussi les larmes aux yeux. Un geste simple qui engendre une réaction mémorable. C’est aussi dans ces moments-là qu’on réalise les différences culturelles et la chance que nous avons au Canada.

En route vers un retour en Serbie après ce tournoi rempli de beaux moments, je reçois des messages des parents pour me remercier d’avoir simplement rendu leurs enfants heureuses. Des messages flatteurs et émouvants. Changer de pays, aller partager ta passion avec des jeunes qui ont la même passion que toi les voir apprendre, s’amuser, apprécier la vie et jouer avec le sourire fendu jusqu’aux oreilles n’a tout simplement pas de prix et c’est ce que permet Hockey Sans Frontières.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

My time in Greece

by Louis Morin 

Putting his job at Warrior Hockey on hold, Louis spent the winter of 2017-2018 coaching in Thessaloniki, Greece at the Iceberg Center.

After a long day of travel, I was greeted by Christo at the airport.  Hesitant at first about the language barrier but luckily after about 20 minutes of walking around, he spotted me with my bag and sticks.  We promptly got in his BMW and the adventure began!

The first 2 weeks I was there, I got to visit the city of Thessaloniki as well as adapt to my surroundings.  All fun stuff as the ice was not ready and there was a chance it would not be operational for the season. After 2 weeks, Christo informed me that there was an opportunity to skate in Athens.  I hopped on a bus and went 4 hours south.

Again, with little information on the person I was meeting, I was spotted by Joe because of the hockey sticks,  He put me in a nice apartment downtown near the metro station. With no vehicle, this began my lovely time with Greek public transit.

In Athens, I was coaching boys, girls, men, and women; sometimes all on the same sheet of ice.  (The ice by the way was about 110 feet...TINY!)  Everyone was very receptive and hospitable. A couple times per week we would skate and have pick up games until 1am and then enjoy some beverages for hours after. I began learning about the greek culture.

About 2 weeks later, I got a roommate from Romania. He was brought in to teach the Greeks how to curl. What a great place to be sweeping stones!

Two weeks later, I said my goodbyes and headed back north to Thessaloniki. Christo told me the rink was almost ready to go. I got back and spent the next 2 weeks laying 16km of metal piping. We were finally close to getting ice, now halfway into November.

The rest of my time in Greece was very similar to a normal North American season. Ups and downs for sure but we had a ton of progression. I was now living with the figure skating coach from Bulgaria so I was at the rink everyday. Luckily they had a very nice restaurant rather than a typical rink lobby so I ate great food every meal.

I coached a youth, intermediate, and adult teams for about 3 months. The learning curve was significant but we constantly had new players showing up. On my off days, I would work the skate desk or help out on the ice during open skates. Some weekends the ice was packed with over 300 kids! It was wild!

By the time I finally left, I had made lifelong friends and endless amounts of stories to tell my buddies. It was an unforgettable experience and I have no regrets staying in Greece after the slow start.

The legend of Christo:

What a character! The guy was co-owner of the rink, rink mechanic, zamboni driver, skate sharpener, restaurant manager; this guy did everything! On a daily basis, he would run into the boards driving the zam...and then not tell anyone until the hockey team got on the ice.  We would have to avoid holes that went all the way through the ice and one day the zam broke at center ice and he told us just to practice around it.  One weekend, he lost control of the 70's zamboni and ran into the boards in front of hundreds of people. He punctured the cooling tubes and made a mess! Not skipping a beat, he put cones out and still had the kids skate around it. We got the security camera video and it hit 500k views on TSN's twitter within 4 days.  What a beauty!

The man they call Mischa:

This guy was a ripped hockey gem in his mid 60s. He leaves Greece for the majority of the hockey season and moves to Bulgaria so he can skate several hours every single day. Guy always wanted to be on the ice and every time I was with him he was asking me to improve his skating technique and help him with his dekes. Most skates he was the best player on the ice, and boy could he wheel around the short ice. Mischa the Machine! Another guy I will never forget for the rest of my life. My last day he gifted me his own game jersey from a local team he played on a dozen or so years earlier. I could definitely tell it meant a lot to him and I was honoured to bring it home.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Subotica: A Day in the Life

by Joey Fabec

Based out of Tampa, Florida, Joey spent the 2017-2018 season coaching at HK Spartak in Subotica, Serbia. His blog post outlines what a typical day in Subotica is like. Joey loved his experience so much that he will be spending the 2018-2019 season nearby in Kiskoros, Hungary. 

8:30AM – 10:00AM

In the morning, Monday – Friday, I lead and instruct ice hockey practice for players under the age of 10. I focus on teaching fun and engaging concepts and skills so that the children have an enjoyable hockey experience while also developing as players and young people. 11:00AM - 3:00PM

After the morning practice, Monday – Friday, I spend time at the ice rink coordinating future practice plans. Once I am finished, I return back to my apartment to eat and rest. I live at a university housing complex in the same building with other college students who are majoring in economics. It takes me about 10 minutes to walk to my apartment from the ice rink. 3:00PM - 8:00PM In the afternoon, Monday – Friday, I help ice hockey players and ice skaters prepare for training. Once they are fully equipped with the proper safety equipment, I teach the participants basic skating techniques at skating school. After, skating school has ended, I coach new hockey players basic ice hockey skills and concepts while using the morals and values of ice hockey to promote health, development, and peace. 8:00PM – 9:30PM

In the evening, Monday – Friday, I am an assistant coach along side Uros Brestovac and Aleksandar Kolaric for the U12 and U14 teams. We understand these young athletes have many recreational and free-time options. We focus on making sure the 14-and-Under players still enjoy hockey practices and games in order to keep them involved in the sport and continue their development. We recognize these early teenage years can provide many physical and emotional challenges, but we are very conscious that this is an excellent opportunity for growth at this age. The three of us always guarantee that fun remains at the forefront of every practice. 10:00PM – 11:00PM

I always end my day, Monday – Friday, practicing with the Senior HK Spartak team. I was invited to participate in all practices, games, and tournaments with this team. It has given me a great opportunity to make new friends, play competitive ice hockey, and engage in fun experiences.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Thessaloniki Welcomes Lucas and Dave

Read Lucas’ first blog post here! 

https://sway.com/hxTL6gdQzzWGBPHB

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Excerpts :: Part 2 :: The Dragon

by Fred Perowne

Hockey is a journey. This journey is Fred Perowne’s, co-founder of Hockey Without Borders, who kept a journal and is slowly putting his stories together for people to read.

Montreal time - still not 6 a.m.

But this is no Montreal. This is Budapest.

After the crisp and cold beer. The conversation flows, as did the food. As do the beers.

The heavy set waitress brings a side of potato and a heap of fresh green salad.

Maybe the freshest I had ever seen or tasted. A mountain of  chicken schnitzel follows. The beers cools us off, the food filled us up.  

Before too long another round of beers arrived. And then another!

It is hot after all.

By late morning it is shooting up into the mid 30's.

Idle conversation flows. Hockey talk mostly .

We hear the team plans for the season ahead. The makeup of the team the ins and outs of the Yugoslav league and The Interleagua, the invitation to the continental cup as Champion of Yugoslavia.

We learn the G.M, Dragon will also play for the team.

Not a player coach of Reg Dunlop fame, but a Player / General manager?

Like some sort of a Mario Lemieux prototype. At this point of the meal Dragon, the playing General Manager is finishing his third cigarette.

To his credit, Dragon had been one of the top young hockey players in Yugoslavia.

One of only two Serbs to make the Yugoslavian junior national squad, Teams usually filled with Slovenian players and a handful of Croats.

When the first of three wars started, He stopped playing, Dragon simply packed his bags and took off. To Spain. To tend bar, To sweep up after long nights. To get lost. To simply find peace in a war that made no sense to him.

A generation of young Yugoslavs took a leap into this unknown world. If they were lucky to get out of there.

Dragon then traveled up to Sweden. Found an Argentinian woman, had two kids and got on with life as best he could.

Now that the war ended. Dragon broke up with his daughter’s mother. Dragon returned home to NoviSad. He will  start again to ply his trade. Wrist shots, face offs and womanizing.  

As much is clear, Dragon will help run the team, and play as a center-man. He is 6 foot three after all.

Dragon had not been on the ice in years.

The meal ends, we all take turns in the toilet. We stand in the parking lot stretching our legs. We load back into the vans as Big Dragon settles the bill.

--

These two Dragon’s are out of a comic strip, one Dragon; tall and skinny. The other  Dragon; shorter, plump & jolly.

They come back to the vans with plastic bags filled with beer cans. Dragon cracked one open at the wheel. Coach cracked one open in the front seat.   Then we all cracked one open in the back. I guess this is how it’s going to be... No choice.   We speed south, taking corners swerving in and out of traffic, jockeying for position with Mercedes, and sleek euro version Volkswagens.

We bolt around slow transport trucks, trollies with canvas walls,old Russian made Ladas decrepit horses pulling gnarly gypsy families wearing colourful clothing sitting on home-made wagons.

Beer cans pile up on the floor under our seats.

They rumble from side to side. The air conditioning is cranked to the max.

At random intervals, in between towns scantily clad women stood road side.

But Dragon, what are they doing dressed like that?

Dragon  winces  and with full Serbian cheer

‘Do you want to find out?’ 'For 20 dollars they keep  drivers fully served. You know Famous Hungarian road side assistance, everything! Oil, lube and filter.’

In the few hours since he picked us up at the airport it was obvious. Dragon loves to drive fast. Dragon loves big  beers. Dragon loves cigarettes. Dragon loves loud Balkan music. Dragon loves to laugh. But most of all, Dragon loves hockey.

As we approach the  border checkpoint I reach down to collect the empties strewn about the floor.

Dragon then explains   ‘Don’t worry,  Everything is arranged. Just hand  over the passports.'

The Hungarian border police approach the van. Signalling us  to advance; Dragon rolls  down the  window.

The border police reach in  to collect  our passports. thumbing through the pages- CANADA - CANADA - CANADA - CANADA - YUGOSLAVIA. Stamp -  stamp - stamp - stamp - stamp A handsome German Shepherd stands at his side. ‘ok - goodbye boys.’

Just as Dragon said it would be. Just as it was to be.

We continued another few hundred meters  to the  Yugoslavia checkpoint. We come to a full stop; There are no other car around us. No line up at all. No dogs. No guards. Nothing and nobody.

Welcome to the jungle. Maybe more of a desert.

We are  the only vehicle on a hot August  afternoon at the border crossing. It is hot and muggy. It feels like we are at the edge of a jungle. And maybe we are;  a jungle that keeps foreigners out for fear that what they find inside might change them forever.

This is the feeling. Welcome to the jungle.

Добродошли -Југославија.   Welcome to Yugoslavia.

Sing that Guns & Roses song. The one we’ve all heard in Pre game warmup at arenas all over the world. The lyrics are fitting;

Welcome to the jungle
We've got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want
Honey, we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey
We got your disease In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your
knees, knees
I wanna watch you bleed Dobrodosli.  Welcome. The guitar rifts The drumming The melody It’s all very fitting. Get fired up.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Excerpts :: Part 1 :: First Impressions

by Fred Perowne

Hockey is a journey. This journey is Fred Perowne’s, co-founder of Hockey Without Borders, who kept a journal and is slowly putting his stories together for people to read. It begins with a flight.

Blake Sorensen 5'10 175, Newmarket, Ontario Kelvin Solari 6'1 225, Sudbury, Ontario Robby Starke 6'0 205, Montreal, Quebec Sasha Cucus 6'3 210, Hamilton, Ontario Freddy Perowne 5 ‘10 181, Montreal, Quebec 
Coach Dave Hyrsky, Sault Saint Mary, Ontario.

Robbie and I fly in from Montreal. 
We all meet at the Toronto airport. 
Kelvin had driven south from Sudbury. 
Kelvin a former Peterborough Pete and past hulking D partner
with Chris Pronger. Blake Sorensen had flown up from his summer home in Chicago. 
Sasha Cucus made the short drive from Hamilton with his Bosnian-Serb father.
Coach Hyrsky gave us our boarding passes. An overnight flight is all that separates us from a hockey adventure 
with all the blood, sweat, tears, mullets, moustaches, sexy ladies 
and beers that you might imagine it to be.

We took off.
Climbed high up to our cruising altitude. 
Direct to Budapest, Hungary.

The landing was smooth.
A sign of things to come.

Budapest Ferihegy International.  Terminal II.

It is hot. And humid.
It is over 30 degrees Celsius.

We step down onto the tarmac.

The heat is a different kind of hot.
Things are so sticky and humid, 
it is still not 9 a.m. in the morning.

In the baggage area
We stretch out our legs as we wait,
for hockey bags,
for our sticks.

Thankfully, all of us got our stuff.

Training camp is only three days away.  

The border patrol hardly looks at our blue Canadian passport
before waving us through. STAMP

On the other side the two of the top brass meet up.

Hello boys.

Ја сам Драган/ I am Dragon. And this is Dragon.

Two Dragon’s indeed!

One Dragon, The President of the club, and main financial sponsor/
The other Dragon, The Sports Director and General Manager for 
Hokej Club Vojvodina.

We load up the two waiting vans.  

‘You boys must be hungry yes?’
Dragon, steered out of the chaotic parking lot, 
then quickly veered off the main road to find a  restaurant.

We sit around a big round banquette table, 
Coach Hyrsky -
The owner, Dragon, 
the General Manager, Dragon, the new brain trust for  Хоцкеи Цлуб Војводина.
 Hockey Klub Vojvodina - Champion of Yugoslavia. 
Hockey Klub Vojvodina - soon to be expansion team in The Interleagua.

The Interleagua - 
a league made up of clubs from five eastern European countries.
 Slovakia, Slovenia,  Croatia, Hungary, and  now Serbia.

One at a time we made our drink orders -
Water,
Water,
Juice,
Water
Juice, 
Water…

The waitress diligently writes down each order.
 There is no English spoken. 
Just broken Serbian and an even wilder sounding Hungarian language.

Within two minutes the drinks arrive. 
But instead of water and juice.
Six big  beers are placed in front of us.

'Common boys - simply enjoy the moment. 
We get to work in a few days’ time. 
You are here in Hungary. 
Let us eat. 
Let us drink.’

The Dragon’s had smirks on their faces and giggled like a little boys.
 One of them had quietly changed the order.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Q&A with Fred Perowne

by Jamie McKinven

Jamie McKinven, author of “So You Want Your Kid to Play Pro Hockey?” and “Tales from the Bus Leagues,” is a former professional hockey player who played in the NCAA, ECHL, CHL and Europe. After hanging up the blades, McKinven spent parts of four years coaching at the Tier II Jr. A level in Ontario and is currently running clinics in skill development and power skating.

Nine years ago I was at a very difficult crossroads in my hockey career.  I was coming out of the NCAA with hopes of making my mark on the hockey world.  Over the summer I had signed with a team in the Buffalo Sabres minor league system and was that much closer to reaching the ultimate dream.  After a disappointing camp and some immigration issues, I ended up in a country I had never heard of, playing pro hockey for a team that didn’t even have matching equipment.

I was lost.  This wasn’t supposed to be how the story goes.  I’m supposed to be working my way up through the system to my NHL dream.  My roommate (Also a Canadian Import) just broke his skate blade, corralling an errant pass, and they welded it back together for chrissakes!  What am I doing here?

Frustrated and angry about my situation, I tried to take it out on everyone.  I was reckless and basically acting like a total jerk.  In the fifth game of the season, we played against a team from Novi Sad, Serbia (HK Vojvodina).  They had four Canadian import players on their team and were our strongest rival.  All game I was running around like an idiot, trying to hurt people and screaming at every player on their team.  During one of the breaks between whistles, one of Vojvodina’s Canadian Import players leaned over and said,

“Hey, I’m Freddy.  Have you tried honey rakia yet?” I just looked at him and said, “Huh?”

Freddy replied, “Ya man, honey rakia.  It’s unreal.  What are you guys doing after the game?  You and your buddy should stick around for the night and stay with us.  I know a great little pub that serves the best honey rakia.” Just like that, I realized something extremely important.  It hit me like a truck.   Why was I so angry?  I was playing professional hockey, getting a chance to travel to unique and interesting countries and experience some amazing cultures.  Why was I wasting  this opportunity, wallowing in the fact that I wasn’t going to make the NHL?  I was so consumed with a sales pitch that had defined my entire life:  NHL or bust.  I was allowing it to consume me, hindering me from developing as a human being. That was the day I met Fred Perowne.

Fred Perowne and Dan Jacob.

Q:  How did HSF come about?

Like a lot of ideas, it was first talked about over a few beers in Novi Sad. The original idea was a way for Dan Jacob, Marc Fournier, Jonathan Gauthier and I to keep our minds active in the middle of the long season.  As Dan says, “Being a professional athlete is boring!”  And it is.  The daily routine leaves much to be desired. The next season Murray Cobb and Paul Faucette joined us in Serbia and the project began to take off.  Murray had a master’s degree in social work from McGill University and Paul had a master’s degree in humanitarian studies. Both guys are hockey nuts and both were instrumental in forming HSF. Over time people have circled around the idea and given it energy. Q:  Growing up, what did hockey mean to you?

I was born in a small town in Quebec where hockey was everywhere!  In Quebec, like in many Canadian regions, it’s a religion.  Le bleu, blanc, rouge!  The long cold winters are met with short bursts of action out on the ponds and outdoor rinks. Quebec towns and cities to this day, do such a great job maintaining the ice for all to play.  My family moved to the prairies – and again – hockey was everywhere. The back alleys in Winnipeg are full of ball hockey come summer. There are few cars and lots of kids. This is a great formula for endless ball hockey games.  When the winter winds start to howl we all moved on the backyard rink that my dad would prepare. A real classic scene. Hockey was family, community, friends and fun. Q:  Did your feelings or views about hockey change?  If so, when did this happen?  What were the circumstances? 

Where I am at now, my feelings are back to the core values of family, community, friends and fun. Somewhere in between, the focus changed. There was a long period where hockey was more about an end goal and less about enjoying the moment and having fun.  There was a lot of pressure during this period of time.  For me it was AAA hockey, then on to U.S. prep school, NCAA and then pro hockey in Europe. At the end of my third season in Europe, I had had enough. I was tired physically and mentally. I was at a standstill. It was at that time I decided to go back to school and get another degree. I wanted to exercise the mind, so to speak.  I followed this path with hopes of gaining some understanding after living and traveling in post-conflict Yugoslavia.  It was a gold medal educational program and a perfect change of pace. Training on the ice and in the gym was replaced by reading and writing in the library. I did not even look at my hockey equipment for two years.  When I finished the course work, the phone rang from HK Vojvodina.  It was with a different perspective that I returned to Serbia to play and coach and enjoy the life & times in the Balkans. Some seasons later, Dan, Marc and I got our citizenship played for the Serbian National team.  We ended up winning a gold medal at the Division II World Championships.  It was a special time; a time that led us to enable others to have a meaningful cross-cultural experience. HSF is that bridge for us to give back to those communities that gave so much to us.

The homemade stick.

Q:  You have traveled the world growing HSF.  Is there a powerful moment that sticks out in your mind the most about the whole experience? There are bunch of powerful moments that stick out.  Living in the Balkans in particular and travelling in general brings an understanding about living in the moment. In the west this concept can sometimes be lost on us amid the hustle and bustle. Staying in the moment slows things down to allow for small but precious moments to stick out. For instance, this past winter in India, a young kid in a Shyok village crafted a homemade stick with his dad because he heard some coaches were coming to run a hockey clinic. It was amazing!  The photo of that kid is now on the wall in Marc Fournier’s office (Who works as a regional sales representative for Bauer).  Marc works with all the top pros, so you can imagine the hi-tech sticks he is dealing with. It is a good reminder of the world we live in.  Everyone is not too far away from each other for the first time in human history. We live in an exciting and important time. Having people connect and share ideas and experiences is more important than ever. Q:  Tell us about your team at HSF.  What is the makeup of your staff? 

HSF is a volunteer organization which partners with local clubs to help create healthy hockey communities. We are at a point now that the idea of HSF is a valid one. 40 or so coaches have volunteered in non-traditional hockey communities primarily in the Balkans.  We are now engaged in a process of formalizing the organization here in Canada.  Thankfully good people are coming to us with important knowledge and experience because they believe in what HSF stands for.  They see the important place sport has in children’s lives and have also value the opportunity to change the focus in youth sports in order to develop great kids and better citizens.

Q:  What is your future vision for HSF? We have had another great year. Last winter 8 HSF coaches were in the Balkans. Also, HSF volunteer coaches visited Mexico City and three small villages in Northern India. So the sky is the limit. We were skating at 13,500 feet last winter, in the Himalayas.  My vision for HSF is that more and more connections and cooperation takes place between people.  It is about bringing people together to share ideas and experiences. With that sharing, it will bring a million possibilities and opportunities. This is the exciting part of it all.

Fred on the ice in the Himalayas.

Q:  What is the message you want to send to kids coming through hockey today? Hockey is so much more than just a game. The end of the journey is rarely about winning the Stanley Cup or Olympic Gold. Of greater importance is the fact that every day you can achieve small victories that, one day, amount to a wonderful life with hockey being a big part of it. That said, hockey is a part of you, not all of you. Use it to meet new people, make new friends, keep in shape and have a laugh. It’s all about the journey, not the destination.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

Pre-Game Jitters in Subotica

by Justin Rudick Montrealer Justin Rudick spent the 2012-13 season in Subotica, a small town in northern Serbia near the Hungarian border. Working alongside fellow Canadians Darcy and Karl, Justin helped coach all levels of HK Spartak and even played for the senior team in the Serbian Hockey League. The thought of walking into a room of strangers can be daunting. You can imagine how amplified that feeling can be when you step off a plane in a foreign country, unable to speak a word of the local language, not knowing where you’re going, and not knowing a single soul. Through a brief email exchange with my host coach Uros all I knew was that someone was going to be picking me up and bringing me to where I was supposed to go. I didn't know who they were, though. And neither did Uros. Sounds like a safe plan, doesn't it.  The whirlwind of emotions that was passing through my mind as I was walked out of the Subotica airport terminal was off the charts. Although I couldn't help but feel somewhat worried and nervous, I was also simultaneously feeling a building sense of enthusiasm and excitement. Walking out of the gate I remember looking around for... well, anyone who might even remotely seem like they were looking to pick up a guy carrying hockey sticks. It could have been anyone. Sure enough, however, in the back of the airport, two men stood holding a piece of paper with my name on it. They spoke very little English and couldn't tell me much about where we were going. “We going to hockey rink,” I remember one of them telling me in a thick Serbian accent as we walked out of the airport. Still excited, a little nervous, not to mention exhausted from a full day of flying, I now had my fate in the hands of two complete strangers. Even with all that, I still somehow managed to keep my cool. I just kept telling myself that I was here so I might as well just go with it. Little did I know, however, that the excitement of uncertainty, the adaptation to a new culture and way of life, and the ability to learn to make intelligent, impulsive decisions on the fly would become the theme of my Hockey Without Borders adventure in Subotica, Serbia.

Justin and Uros posing with a team participating in a tournament in Sarajevo, Bosnia & Herzegovina. I eventually remember seeing signs reading “Subotica” in Cyrillic. The jitters began to get shakier and all sorts of questions began racing through my mind. Where will I be sleeping? What are the other two coaches going to be like? What if the kids aren't receptive to me? Even worse, what if the parents aren't receptive to me? Still, I couldn't wait to get there and get on the ice to meet the kids and the other coaches. A long car ride with two strangers who you can’t really interact with really gets you thinking… 

All of a sudden we pull up to an ice rink where a young group of kids (most of them wearing snowsuits) were divided up into groups on the ice to work on skating drills. One of the coaches noticed the car and immediately made his way off the ice to greet me. “Welcome, Justin! My name is Uros. How was your flight?” He looked like a hockey player. A big guy who could probably eat me for breakfast. 

Uros and I chatted for about three minutes and all of a sudden I felt like I had all of my energy fully restored. I still remember glancing over every few seconds to watch the kids skate which made me even more eager to get out there. Uros told me we would be going to my apartment later, but for now he was going to show me the around the rink where I would be spending most of my days. “Do you feel tired? Or do you want to come out and skate with the kids?” Hit the ice? That was music to my ears. Uros then introduced me to the two other coaches, Karl and Darcy, who would both be sharing the experience with me and would later become two of my closest friends. They grabbed my bag and sticks and brought me to the Subotica senior hockey club’s dressing room, where the club name and “HK Spartak” logo were plastered all of the room. I laced up my skates faster than I think I’ve ever laced them up in my life and, before I knew it, I was out on the ice doing exactly what I came to do.

Justin and his fellow HSF coaches Darcy and Karl in 2013

Even the kids immediately made me feel at ease. I remember giving a little guy in a green sweater a tap on the helmet. He turned around, stared at me for about two seconds, and immediately smiled and began approaching me. He wound up his arm halfway around his body to give me a big high five. I gave him another tap and he immediately began chasing me around the ice.  Though, the roller coaster of emotions was short-lived. The coaches, the kids, and the parents all give me the warmest welcome to help make me feel comfortable. Even my other Spartak teammates who I met later that evening made sure that I had everything I needed to feel right at home. Looking back, there was never any need to feel nervous, overwhelmed, intimidated, or scared because from the moment I arrived, it just felt like home.

Justin and Darcy out on the ice with kids during a perfect day in Subotica

This marked the beginning of what would go on to be the best year of my life. It sparked something in me which would transform me as person and help me grow as an individual. I learned, among other things, about what it means to take chances, to teach and be a leader, and to always be ready for anything that may come your way. Everything I learned that year in Subotica still resonate with me today. The lessons act as my moral compass that has guided me to where I am today and have shaped me into who I am today. And I owe it all to the Spartak Hockey Club, the Subotica community, and, especially, to Hockey Without Borders.

[thecoachspodium-blog]

2015-2016 Preseason

by Nicholas Duhamel Montrealer Nicholas Duhamel spent the 2014-2015 season in Novi Sad, Serbia’s second largest city, and the very same which was the inspiration for Hockey Without Borders. He worked with American HSF coach Ian Andersen in an effort to help develop all age groups of HK NS Stars. 

The Hockey Without Borders preseason is underway. Our volunteer coaches are in the final stages of preparing for their trip overseas, laying out their hockey equipment, clothes and whatever else they might need for their season in either Serbia, Bosnia, Slovenia, Greece or Bulgaria. Soon, they will be using their Tetris like prowess to fit it all into their bags and be on their way. It might look a little something like this…

I hope, for their sake, that they are better packers than I am because last season, I had to haul my 120 pounds of baggage through some of the world’s busiest, sardine packed and occasionally on-strike train stations. I also hope that our coaches immediately start to document their experience abroad because it is always nice to get the nostalgia flowing by reliving your trip through old photos and writings, but more importantly, to share with your friends and family what you are up to. I hope that this blog serves this purpose. I’d like to be the one to drop the puck - to kick start this forum for coaches to express what they see, by sharing my personal experience in Europe which stretched from October to April. Here we go! I decided to spend some time traveling and visiting family before starting my season in Novi Sad, Serbia – my ultimate destination. With a month to kill in Western Europe I did what any self-respecting hockey fan would do in between topping the Alps and surfing the Basque Country waves. While visiting some of the world’s most amazing cities – I went to hockey games. I started with the Deutsche Eishockey Liga in Cologne, Germany where Scotty Bowman discovered the first German-born player to eventually win the Stanley Cup – Ewe Krupp. All the way to la Ligue Magnus in Strasbourg, France where fully dressed players ride bicycles and skateboards on the ice after a victory. And finally, to the National League A in Zurich, Switzerland where the defending champs ZSC Lions are coached by another cup winner Marc Crawford.

Decent seats in Zurich where the visiting Kloten Flyers bench interfered with our view of the game. After a sublime four weeks in Western Europe, it was time to hop on a train which would take me to Budapest and then to Novi Sad where I would make my home for the next five months. This is the first entry of the journal I kept while I was there. It’s a little raw and rough around the edges but I hope you like it.

Hello Serbia

Time drifts away pleasantly until I wake up and realize that the train is not on schedule and that we will be late coming into the station. That all too familiar ‘I’m late for class’ feeling. I put my coat back on, grab my bags, and hop off the train with severe urgency. My train to Novi Sad leaves in a few minutes. Why is it that trains always arrive late but never depart late? My heart is racing faster than it would after three espressos and twelve Viennese pastries. The difference is that I'm not sitting in a warm cafe but instead I'm stressing out in the Budapest train station with over 120 pounds of bags on my person: my trusty backpack that took me through Southeast Asia, sporting a nice brown hue from the dust of Cambodia, your standard Canadian flag half unsown, and a scuffed Canadiens patch I optimistically installed during the 2012 lockout. In front, a smaller backpack reversed on my chest. In my left hand I hold a Bauer rolling bag. In my right, a black CCM stick bag holding my babies. Hauled over my right shoulder, a black and blue hockey bag, donning the Hockey Without Borders logo: the silhouette of a small child playing hockey with a scribbled outline of the continents behind him.

Here I stand with the weight of the world on my shoulders, staring up at an unrecognizable jumble of letters on the departures board. No where do I see the words Novi Sad, my ultimate destination, and my train leaves at 1:05. It's 1:02. Two trains leave at 1:05, one at gate 7 and one at gate 12. 7 or 12? 7 or 12? Risky Nicky takes over. I dump my chips on 7 and run towards a shaggy looking train, dirty yellow with a square face and two beady little eyes for lights. I toss my bags one by one on board and take a quick look around. There's no one in the cart or on the dock to answer my pressing query: Is this train going to Novi Sad? I sit in one of the tall, bouncy black seats covered in that same material used in yellow school buses I used to ride to school every day in elementary school. Above them hangs series of luggage compartments; arrangements of monkey bars I would probably be hanging off right now if I was eight years old, pretending the floor was lava. I gaze out of the large window, pondering my possible destination in Timbuktu Hungary. It's all up to the hockey gods now. Jesus Price! Save me.

The train from Budapest to Novi Sad. After what seemed like endless forests of birch, a few chickens on the tracks, and a difficult conversation with the broad shouldered train guard who checked my ticket, I finally understand that I am on the right track. I am concerned when he tells me that I have to get off in Subotica, expecting a straight ride to Novi Sad. From behind the large frame of one of the seats at the other end of the car, a bearded man in his mid to late twenties pokes his head out. He shakes his 1960s Paul McCartney bangs from his face, exposing rectangular glasses. He comes over to me, carrying nothing but a small backpack and a guitar case, and explains to me that yes, I am on the right train. This is the first of many expected unexpected wild turns in the Balkans. The train conductors are on strike, but somehow, I am scheduled to arrive in Novi Sad at the same time as my original itinerary with just one transfer in Subotica. My miraculously discovered new Texan friend, translator, and guide reassures me: "Just follow my lead, everything will be fine." In a strange way, Freddy reminds me of my best friend Matt, who is also a vagabond musician with a helping hand. Coincidentally, Freddy shares his name with one of Hockey Without Borders’ co-founders, Fred Perowne, the one who sent me on this trip. Weird… After two rounds of Hungarian and Serbian immigration officers flooding the train and pressing us for our passports, we get out at Subotica. This is a place I've heard so much about, but I will have to wait to discover this small Serbian town. I will be back. We are directed to a small train with only one car for passengers and await departure toward Novi Sad, the university city located on the winding Danube river, made up of 400,000 Serbs and defended by an old fort perched on a hill which was used to fight off the Turks several times over the course of history, which more recently was bombed by NATO. As the train takes off, I rip off my jacket and sweater. It was cold out but it is getting hot inside this train packed with people heading home. An old woman wrapped with many shawls whispers to one of the four, tall, burly policemen standing at the front of the train. He nods and reaches over to close the nearest window and shuts it. He walks down the car and shuts every window with no protests from any of the passengers. How strange, it's boiling in here! Despite my disagreements I don't dare reopen it, but instead, express my misunderstanding to Freddy who chuckles and begins to explain the urban legend of promaja - the draft. “People in these parts, especially the elderly, believe that a breeze blowing from one end of an apartment or train to the other can result in all kinds of sickness. The draft is responsible for everything from muscle aches, headaches, colds, to infections and even inflammation of the brain.” “Huh, and in North America you pay more for an apartment with a draft,” I retort, puzzled. With the heat in full greenhouse effect and my long legs jammed in a small compartment, it brings me back to my days in stuffy, dusty buses made for the average height of 5 foot 4, riding across the border of Thailand and Laos in dry heat, sun beams reflecting off the windows and burning my skin to a crisp. This isn't so bad, I think to myself, and continue to engage in conversation with Freddy about our common interest, mutual aid. He is pursuing a PHD in community development in Belgrade and we bounce ideas off of each other regarding our own programs. I say au revoir to Freddy, who I plan on meeting when I visit Belgrade in the coming months, and toss my bags off the train with the help of the friendly train guard. I forgive him for closing the windows because now I am in colder, comfortable weather, akin to the weather I left behind in Canada a month ago. I pick up my bags and walk out of the station only to be blasted by an abundance of lights, bright Cyrillic neon letters and old Eastern European cars. I feel like I have been launched back in time, a society that appears to have stalled in the 80s. Looking around for my guides, I spot the local people. The men are huge, not ripped or jacked but stacked, big boned and strong. They all look like nightclub doormen, you know the ones with their arms slightly propped up in front of their bodies as if they were hiding tennis balls in their armpits. When it comes to the women, I was warned in advance what to expect. There is a blend of distant ethnicity all mixed into one here. This background that the Serbians hold dearly is a fusion of Slavic, Germanic and Turkish, which has made for a collective of beautiful people. The women are no exception, in fact, they are the highlight. Tall, vivacious, and in shape, they take care of themselves in spectacular fashion. They keep their hair long and dark, their makeup stylish, and their clothes - fitted. A guy I met in Vienna told me that he couldn't understand how even the gas station attendant looked like a supermodel. So far the rumours are true. I also heard great things about the food, which is what I’m dying for right now. Buzzing neon words reading pivo, pljeskavica, and cevapi on highlighted signs above small, restaurants and bars are scattered to my left and to my right, each as inviting as the next. I can't wait to indulge in all of it. A perfect, serene moment of fulfilled wanderlust.

Hello Serbia!