I had always imagined that high school hockey would be the pinnacle of my hockey career after playing since I was only five years old.

I walked into Pagel my sophomore year with the idea in my head that this is all I ever wanted from hockey: to play on the team that I grew up admiring. But my high school hockey experience was quite different than I imagined. And it taught me much more than I could ever believe.

After playing both JV and Varsity my sophomore year and Varsity my Junior year, I anticipated a flawless season for my senior year. But, throughout tryouts, I had a sense of uneasiness. At first I believed that it was all in my head, but then I began to notice the lack of communication between myself and the head coach. He would coach the rest of the returning Varsity players as if he was preparing them for the season, but he avoided eye contact and communication with me at all costs.

After three days of tryouts, the coaches began telling everyone their results. I was trying to remain calm, but I knew in the pit of my stomach what he was going to tell me. Still avoiding eye contact with me, he told me he was moving me down to JV for the season. The first weekend of the season I got no feedback, good or bad, from any of the coaches. Everyone seemed scared to talk to me.

I finally asked for an explanation as to why things ended up how they did. The response was the cold hard truth. He said that I had all the skills necessary to be on Varsity but that I lacked the one uncoachable trait: intellect. After two years of him coaching me, he finally explained to me that I was just not smart enough to play on his team again, and that, although he was my coach, there’s no way to teach someone to be a smart hockey player. And, with that, I stood up, shook the coaches hands and never went back.

As far as I knew it, I was never going to play hockey again. I no longer felt happy and excited to wear the M on my jersey. And the fact that my last game ever was some throw-away game in Grand Rapids surrounded by people that felt like strangers rather than teammates was unsettling.

But I quickly learned that when one door closes another door opens. A few weeks later I was contacted by a coach from Madison, Wisconsin about playing for them for the rest of the season. He had heard my situation from an old teammate who had moved there, and I was welcomed with open arms and was able to experience what a true team is like.

For once in my high school hockey career, my biggest competition was the opposing team, not the coaching staff. I also started talking to the hockey coach at the University of Utah, and despite the ups and downs looking back at my hockey career, she still offered me a leadership position on the team.

Senior year was not what I expected. But, in the end, Minnetonka high school hockey taught me a lot of lessons. The opportunities and obstacles of my experience taught me to overcome ignorance and recognize who truly has my best interest in mind and who is there to support me no matter what. It also taught me to be independent and how to make decisions on my own.

Most importantly, it taught me hope, and if you have hope you can make it through anything. Like Eddie Vedder said “The best revenge is to live on and prove yourself.” I am happy that I went through what I did so that no one else had to, and I wish the best of luck to the Minnetonka hockey program in the future.