My journey in hockey started with navigating the intense hockey culture of Toronto from a young age. I faced pressures most Toronto hockey players would understand—expectations of being drafted into the OHL and US college scholarships.
Despite the challenges, success seemed to come naturally. I earned a full D1 scholarship to the University of Michigan and was honored as a Hobey Baker finalist and All-American.
These achievements fueled my belief that success was a linear path, where each step forward would lead to more victories and accolades.
However, my perception of success took a sharp turn upon entering the professional ranks.
Turning Pro
After being selected in the 3rd round to the Ottawa Senators in 2007, I signed with the NHL club 4 years later. I still remember my first camp, seeing players I idolized as a kid introduce themselves to me. It was a dream come true, until reality set in the next day…
Every morning the coaches would post 2 intrasquad lineups for scrimmage in the dressing rooms. On the first day I was given no line! There were 4 lines of players and then my name all by itself underneath them all, and there was a whole other half of camp across the hall with 4 lines as well… so you could only imagine how I felt when it came to the organization’s belief in me. I was able to shrug it off on day one, I thought to myself… Maybe all the rookies take turns being the extra man, tomorrow will be different—It wasn’t, this continued on the entire camp until I was eventually sent down to the minors.
I believed I didn’t deserve to be so low on the depth chart and looking back I was right, I didn’t deserve that.
The Start of the Spiral
But at the time I couldn’t deal with this blow to my confidence—I was never an extra, never even a third line player. I had never dealt with responding to this kind of situation. Instead of using it as motivation to prove them wrong, I started down a spiral of negative thoughts.
Suddenly, the assurances I had grown used to weren’t there… I wasn’t automatically seen as a top player or prospect and opportunities in the NHL weren’t guaranteed.
I felt like I had no one to turn to. I even noticed the coaches had a different mindset than I was used to—less personal and concerned about their job security.
I was no longer someone’s project, but instead, a product.
This change in outlook took me by surprise.
I wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way. I felt like a nobody for the first time in my hockey career.
I had a boy’s mind in a man’s world. Physically I could excel at the pro level but I wasn’t yet mentally mature enough to do so.
In the minors I became coach conscious, constantly second guessing my decisions on the ice. I always thought my coach didn’t like me or wanted to see me fail. I became concerned about what friends and family thought of my recent setbacks after having such high expectations going into pro. I felt like a let down… the wind in my sails had vanished and I was playing nowhere near my capabilities.
Working on my Mindset
I knew what it felt like at the top… My problem was what it felt like at the bottom. And in my young pro career I was faced with the choice to quit or develop a new mindset to enjoy the game again.
I had to start with being honest with myself. This took some growing up and mental maturity to do. I had to contend with doubts about my worth as a player and as a person.
I began by acknowledging and dissecting my negative emotions. Each evening, I sat with pen and paper, pouring out my thoughts and feelings. Writing became a cathartic release, a way to process the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts swirling within me. I questioned the origins of my fears and anxieties, seeking to understand their roots and their impact on my mindset. It meant confronting uncomfortable truths. But through this process, I began to cultivate a new mindset.
I gradually started to shift my perspective on what it meant to excel in professional hockey. It wasn’t just about scoring and glory anymore; it was about cultivating a resilient mindset that could weather the storm of professional scrutiny and self-doubt.
I realized that my mindset wasn’t just a tool to help me in the game; it was much bigger than that, it was my total experience of the game.
My on ice performance started to improve in sync with my mental game and I was given opportunities to play all over the world including the top leagues in Sweden and Germany.
I remember being so grateful for getting the chance to play and live in different places around the world. With each new opportunity I delved deeper into this newfound mindset, I saw subtle shifts in my approach to the game. I no longer fixated solely on external validation or the opinions of others. Instead, I focused on my own growth and development, setting internal benchmarks for success that went beyond wins and losses.
The journey wasn’t without its setbacks. There were moments of frustration and doubt, times when I questioned whether I had what it took to persevere. But each obstacle became an opportunity to learn and grow, reinforcing my commitment to cultivating a resilient mindset that could withstand the highs and lows of professional sports.
Finding My Calling
I found myself in the later years of a 15 year pro career giving advice to fellow teammates. It became common for players to consult me on the mental challenges of pro hockey. I knew I had found my calling. I could make a positive difference in an athlete’s journey– whether it be a young up-and-coming athlete or players at the professional level. All of the challenges I encountered along the way have turned into relatable insights. Now as a Mental Performance Coach I can connect with my athletes on a deep level, having been through the process myself. I have the opportunity to help others avoid the mistakes I made along the way.
And most importantly, I get to blend what worked for me with the practical strategies we use at CEP to help my clients create personalized strategies that work for them—ensuring they have the right mindset for success and that they enjoy the journey.