Not Done

Early in my career, I’d hear about guys with long scoreless droughts and just think, How’s that even possible? It made no sense to me.

But then there I was, sitting on the bench for the Montreal Canadiens, watching our home fans in the stands dancing around in sombreros and singing “Happy Birthday” in honor of my one-year goal drought.

By that point, I was fully aware of my poor play. My lack of scoring was the subject of TV reports, newspaper columns and, yes, its own website. But it was at that moment, serving as the butt of a bad joke for 20,000 fans at the Bell Centre, that it hit me hardest.

“Holy shit, I’m that guy now.”

Life and hockey kind of mirror each other in the sense that when you’re having good times, it’s difficult to imagine how things will ever go wrong. And when you’re having bad times, well, yeah.

One of the questions athletes often get asked is what profession they would go into if they weren’t playing their sport, and my honest answer is that I have no idea.  I knew I wanted to play in the NHL when I was 5 years old, and from that time until now, it was hockey, hockey, hockey.

By the time I was eligible for the draft, I was considered one of the top prospects in the world. I ended up suffering an injury, which resulted in me falling in the draft. I was devastated at the time, but I realize now that it was one of the best things to ever happen to me because I ended up getting picked by the New Jersey Devils.

Talk about being spoiled. The Devils provided me with an Ivy League education in hockey. Larry Robinson, Slava Fetisov, Scott Stevens, Bobby Holik, Randy McKay, Jay Pandolfo, Scott Niedermayer, Ken Daneyko — not to mention the leadership that comes from Lou Lamoriello at the very top of the organization. I can’t think of a better group of guys to show someone the ropes in the NHL, and learning from them flat-out made me a better hockey player and person.

That’s not just lip service. I’ll give you an example.

Once when I was riding a hot streak, I remember being on the team plane reading about how great I was doing. Joe Nieuwendyk walked over, grabbed the paper from me and said, “Gomer, don’t read that shit.” And I was kind of confused and then he told me, “Get in the habit right now of not reading the paper, because one day they’re going to start writing things about you that you won’t want to read.” Joe was one of the best leaders I’ve ever been around in this sport. There’s a certain code amongst hockey players. When a guy like Joe Nieuwendyk tells you not to do something, you listen.

I had no idea at the time just how valuable his advice would turn out to be. read more