Sunday 3/10/24
When I played hockey and couldn't get it going, I would come out the next game and I'd hit everything that moved. I'd pop everybody. I made a point of it. And hard, too. I don't mean just finish off the play in the corner. I mean hit to bury somebody.
Eventually I'd get my rhythm, the blood would be flowing, my hands would come back to me, I'd start finding open patches of ice, create opportunities, get off good shots, and the puck would start going in.
I was pretty disciplined with all of this. I'd control what I could control in practice, too, believing that practice set up success in games. Practice hard--and, just as importantly, practice well, and do all of the little things the right way--and you'll play well.
But yeah, that's what I'd do. Just truck people. Violently.
I don't know what made me think of that. You learn lessons in sports. You teach yourself lessons. You develop good habits. You allow yourself to learn lessons. That's really what the value of sports is more than anything.