At the end of the 4th National Ice Hockey Championship, I had agreed to train the selected players that were to participate in the 2009 IIHF Asia Challenge Tournament, being held in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, in mid-March. I had already been familiar with the players after watching them play in the National Tournament, and my scouting report was provided to Akshay Kumar of the Ice Hockey Association of India for his selection committee meeting. I had been watching these players for a solid week, and knew that there was a passion, and a potential to vastly improve. If only for three days before my departure back to Delhi (and around India) I was given the opportunity to lay the foundation of an international style of hockey. Although I had spent a lot of time talking to the members of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club about my departure date, and my desire to train the team, it was incredibly last minute when I was notified we’d begin training just a few hours later in the day. Our first session was scheduled at 4pm, the same day I had begun my intensive training at SECMOL in the morning, and classroom instruction in the evening. SECMOL is 20 km outside of Leh in one direction, and this rink is about 10 km outside of Leh in the other direction. As a result, a ride was arranged on day one to bring me to SECMOL to get my equipment, to the rink, and later back to SECMOL. The rink was on the banks of a river, although I’m not sure if it was the Indus or the Sindhu, and was the practice rink for one of the military teams. In order to make it to the rink, you had climb over a stone wall, and then navigate down AND up some rocky dirt paths. The players’ bench - and I use that term very liberally - was a couple of boulders and trees, although most people just got changed on the ice immediately outside of the rink. The team was comprised of about 12 players from the military teams, and the remaining roster was filled by players from the local teams, two being from SECMOL (including “formerly selfish”). 6 players were placed on reserve. A couple of players were in Jammu, the winter capital of Jammu & Kashmir, studying in school, and were not able to attend. Only a couple others were also absent. The surface was brutal. There were speed bumps all over the rink, and they were damn effective, because very often people would come to a complete halt and face-plant into the rink. I speak from experience. On day one of training, I fell four times, twice without my gloves, which are relatively imperative to alleviating the impact of falls. No matter, I had the team (sans a few players – including those from SECMOL that were unaware they had made the team and that there was even a practice that) work on skating drills – in particular, their stopping, cross-overs and backwards skating. Pond hockey has a yin-yang relationship. Using this analogy, there’s a “good” and an “evil”. On the side of the good guys, you have freedom: free ice, freedom to play how you like, freedom to have fun. This is obviously great for harnessing passion, and learning how to have fun in the game. You play because you love it and you can. On the (New Jersey) Devil(s) side, you have a pond, with no boards, uneven surfaces, the risk of falling in, and no rules. You lose pucks twice as fast as you would in an arena (pucks are like socks…even when you know the full schedule of where your socks have been, somehow you lose them all the time. Same thing with pucks…even in an arena, you shoot pucks out of the rink and tend to lose them regularly), and the risks of playing on an unreliable surface, with no rules, no referees and no support has not only life-impacting ramifications, but more importantly, it can stunt your hockey growth! Playing hockey in an arena may be expensive, limited in time, restrictive in its rules and the way it’s played, etc, but at the end of the day hockey is played in an arena. Nothing can replace that training. Long story short, the pond severely handicapped the Ladakhi ability to power skate. As you have learned in earlier posts (you better have read each one!), ice conditions can sometimes be like skating on broken glass, or in this case, with the speedbumps. These hindrances affect the natural skating style, forcing players to skate timidly and focus on their feet. Obviously hockey is a sport that runs on an alternative mode of transportation (has anyone researched ice skating as a source for alternative energy?), but the skating must become second-nature so players can focus on the game going on around them. Being a mediocre ice skater will end up getting you injured, as you tend to spend more time looking down and can get your ass handed to you in one of those moments. Needless to say, nobody wants to see that happen. Neither do I, but there is no alternative in India currently. Outdoor pond hockey is the only way to go. So we fought through the detours and continued training. After our skating drills, we got into shooting. Immediately I set out to change the mind-set when the players took a shot. I put a moratorium on slap shots until a wrist shot not only became second nature, but became adequate enough to score on a comatose goalie. If you know an obsessive hockey player, and I’m no exception, then you know that they are very emotional and protective about their sticks. The hockey stick is an extension of the body, and it must operate as such. A player should take the utmost care of their stick, because mistreatment can result in breakage on the ice in the middle of a game, always when you’re about to take an important shot. Karmic retribution. After 20 minutes or so of continuous shooting, we got into face-off alignment. In an attempt to radically change hockey in Ladakh, I showed every player specifically where they needed to be on a face-off at each dot on the rink. Once the centers got to see their wingers lined up properly next to them, and their defensemen behind them, they quickly understood the logic of trying to win the puck backwards on a face-off. Mission accomplished! (Hey, I’ll take it…beggars can’t be choosers). After the on-ice training, I had the army drop me off at SECMOL so I could teach my off-ice hockey class (see previous post). Day 2 began mid-day this time, instead of 4pm in an attempt to get better ice. The army players picked me and the two SECMOL players up from campus, and brought us to the rink on the opposite side of Leh. Although we tried to outsmart the weather, we failed. If anyone spent too much time in one particular spot for too long, they’d find that there skate was an inch into the ice, and partially submerged in water. Skating drills? I think not. As a result, more time was spent shooting from different angles quickly to train the goalies to move laterally in the net, play their angles, and practice going down and getting back up. Needless to say, without formal training for the players, there was no formal training for the goalies. The butterfly (a particular style of goaltending that relies upon speed and flexibility in covering as much of the net as possible, while covering your angles) was completely foreign to them. Not being a goalie, I tried my best to explain what a butterfly position looks like and why it’s effective. The trouble is that with no equipment and average flexibility (on a good day, after yoga and a massage), I can’t get into a butterfly position. I thought I was going to tear my groin. It was worth the sacrifice though, if I could at least make a slight improvement in their abilities in net, especially since my groin is out of commission while in India as it is (too much information?). After shooting for a solid 35 minutes, we worked on screens and deflections, something they have never utilized. I wanted to lay the foundations of how to position oneself in front of the end and cause absolute chaos. As a center, I got more pleasure in helping a teammate score a goal due to my screening the goalie than when I scored the goals myself. Sure, you take a few shots to the spine or calf, but even that is part of the fun. We ran a drill for the full team where all players would fight for positioning in front of the net, and either I or a defenseman would shoot at the perfect moment for a screen, deflection or rebound. Some did this perfectly and stood their ground in front, others did it perfectly by clearing their man in front, and others took themselves 8 or 9 feet out of position in an attempt to get open. Obviously since this is a drill to fight for positioning in front of the net, they failed. For day 3, my final day with the team before my departure to Delhi, we decided to hold a morning practice. 9am. This effectively meant I couldn’t coach the SECMOL group that night, something I wasn’t happy about, but in the grand scheme of things, training this newly formed Indian team is obviously an honor and incredibly important. The ice was a bit better, although still nothing to rave about, so skating drills returned. After some brief shooting, passing and stick-handling drills, we got into the real meat. We started with a 2-on-0 drill. If it sounds simple, it is. For those of you that don’t play hockey, here’s the brief-over: two players start from opposing corners on the same side of the ice and leave the zone, criss-crossing as they return back into the zone. They make a short pass as they approach each other, with the player receiving the puck crossing in front of the player passing the puck. Other than the obvious reason for doing this, not running into each other, the logic behind this is that you want the player with the puck to enter the offensive zone immediately so as to not go off-sides. Granted, this is a drill that requires players to go back into the zone they started from; a situation that is unrealistic in a game, but it reinforces the concept of pass and go behind, and stay onsides. Also, it’s hockey. You never know where the puck will take you on the ice. Sometimes you skate laterally. In that case, this drill is perfect practice. It should still sound like an easy drill. Apparently not for Ladakhis. The players consistently failed to pass properly, and to make matters worse, they were going off-sides and running into each other! Communicate! I tried to reinforce that the drill isn’t about skating to the top of the zone and just giving the player the puck. You can pass as much as you want before and after, but make sure that you pass at the top of the zone about 10 feet from each other. We attempted this drill for about 30 minutes, and would’ve done it longer until we consistently got it right, but the tea was getting cold. So we took a break. When tea time was over, I really complicated things by making it a 2-on-1 drill. Now the defenseman would start near the net and pass to one of the players leaving the zone, then they’d criss-cross, just as before, and come back into the zone against the defenseman. Although it was filled with countless mistakes, mostly going off-sides or making an ill-advised pass, they managed to run this drill more efficiently than when there was no defensive opponent. Go figure. Other than day three’s tea break, there were no water breaks throughout these two-hour long practices. It’s not that I was overworking or punishing them, quite the opposite. I felt that with the level of drills we were running, and the limited time available, there was no point in wasting a water break when everyone appeared fresh. But maybe that was just their cultural tendency of respecting authority that kicked in. Either way, being the last practice, I didn’t want to leave without getting into some sort of team situation. I attempted to introduce a 3-on-2 drill that would develop multiple skills at once: defensive pair passing to one another, offensive players coming back into the zone, all 5 players breaking out in unison, the forwards coming in on attack with a 1-man advantage, hence 3-on-2. Before I could really get this drill up and running, we ended practice. Time had run out, and this drill would require another hour that was unavailable. For now, my training with the Indian hockey team had come to an end. They needed to be ready to play for the Asia Challenge Cup, and I was leaving Ladakh with a strong feeling that more training was imperative. We needed to work on skating, shooting, passing and positioning. Minor details in a game reliant upon skating, shooting, passing and positioning. Or as they say in Miracle: “Pass, shoot, score.” But hey…we have passion! Hopefully we can work on some of these things before time runs out.
Ice Hockey in Ladakh, Part 6: Coaching at SECMOL/Founding “The Hockey Volunteer”
You may or may not know, but my original motivation for coming all the way to Ladakh for hockey was to work with the students at SECMOL (Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh). This had come about after a random email sent my way from my friend and former colleague Angela Ruggiero of Team U.S.A. Hockey involved SECMOL, and I decided to research a bit what it was about. The more I read, the more I was compelled to help. SECMOL is a non-profit that has a campus about 20km outside of Leh, in the middle of a mountainous desert, on a cliff overlooking the Indus River. It is in an absolutely gorgeous scene. These days, SECMOL exists to provide children from around Ladakh, mostly those from less fortunate families (in an area that is already very humble compared to life in the West – “Things we take for granted…”), and provides them with a rounded education, teaches them practical responsibilities, and allows more than enough opportunity for fun and constructive interpersonal interaction. Throughout the year, high school students from VIS (Vermont Intercultural Semesters) come to Ladakh and spend some time at SECMOL teaching the students English, working on school-work for credit, and providing the SECMOL students and staff with an opportunity to learn about life and culture in America – in particular, Vermont. The campus is solar powered, and after a handful of ventures into educational services, liberal magazine printing, and childrens’ books, solar paneling is among the few remaining business that allows SECMOL to make revenue independent of donations and the fees collected from students and volunteers. On their website, there was a request for a hockey coach, and like a slap shot to the temple, I was overtaken with a swelling of emotion by the calling that had come out of nowhere, or had it? Around the world, there are handfuls of people that believe in fate, or the edict that “things happen for a reason”, and others in the philosophy of karma – that what we do has a direct impact on what happens to us (simply: cause and effect). For many, The Secret was powerful source of inspiration to really focus on our dreams. Malcolm Gladwell would argue that it’s the situation unto which we were afforded in life, mixed with a fair degree of randomness, hard-work, and luck, that lead to our outcome in life. Others take the “more practical” route that we make our own opportunities, and that randomness has nothing over good ‘ol sweat, blood and tears. For some time now, many of these philosophies have resonated for me, some of them conflicting or harmonizing with each other, and when my tenure with the Islanders ended, I knew that the time to test my character and put my dreams into motion had arrived. All of my life’s experiences to that point had provided me with a foundation to grow upon, and when this email came my way from Angela, I had already identified many of the things important to me to live a happy life: traveling, playing hockey, drinking tea, doing good for others/generating good karma, meeting interesting people, forming lasting connections/friendships, never working a “9-to-5” again, being my own boss, finding a path to enlightenment (seriously). These are things I consider passions that define me, some are simple, some are complex, but all are important. With the pursuit of passion, there is still a business plan, and a desire to make money, but never the motivation to put money before happiness. The opportunity to travel to Ladakh, a Buddhist (Buddhism is based upon compassion, doing good for others, and the pursuit of enlightenment) region in the Himalayas of India, one of the world’s most unique countries, where ice forms naturally and hockey is played with passion, where I could drink endless amounts of tea, and do things the way I feel are important in life and in business was too much to resist. This email regarding SECMOL opened my eyes and provided me with the path to follow through on my pursuit of happiness, and so became “The Hockey Volunteer” initiative. In my first day of emails with SECMOL, on December 8, 2008, I had enquired into how much my trip would cost, and promised that I would make it to Ladakh the moment I had raised the appropriate funds. The cost to make it to India and survive for 1 month on meager conditions was $2000. The cost to stay longer and still live pretty modest, $3000. If I was to bring hockey equipment, $4000. My goal was to raise the money before the ball dropped and 2008 had ended, and I set out on utilizing the digital world as my primary resource for fundraising. Being a card-holding member of Generation Y, and someone that has always been keen on utilizing computers and new technology, this was something I had a passion for, and had experience with when I could say “I’m Adam Sherlip, and I’m an ‘Islander’”. Unknown to everyone, up until now, is that I vowed to myself that I would plaster the internet with this program for the sheer point of proving that it could be done, and that technology could be used to make a difference in peoples’ lives if we truly allow it. I was never given the opportunity to utilize new media/digital marketing the way I wanted previously, and this was my opportunity to prove my old bosses wrong. I wouldn’t call it vengeance, or anything of similar harshness, but rather the opportunity to prove to myself and to those that had doubted my expertise and/or idealism that both could succeed, simultaneously. Now at this point, you may be thinking this is about ego, and I want to vow to you that my only boost in ego is when I see the difference I have made in the lives of countless people to date, using hockey as my tool. That’s it. I feel good, when I’ve done good*. The rest is fluff. Yes, it’s important to have motivation. Yes, it’s important to have dreams and goals. But none of that compares to knowing that your services are not only needed, but they are requested and appreciated. On January 12, 2009, just over 1 month from deciding the path my life would take herein, I departed for Ladakh, by way of Frankfurt, Germany and Delhi, India. I differentiate between Delhi, India and Ladakh because this is truly a world unto itself. During the Winter, Ladakh is cut off from the rest of the world, including it’s neighboring regions: Zanskar, Jammu and Kashmir (the name of the state). With me on this initial voyage was a bundle of 14 hockey sticks, 2 pairs of skates, some pucks, my gloves, and 2 sets of netting. I was told that lefty sticks were called “righty” and righty sticks were called “lefty”, and that what I know as lefty sticks was in high demand. As a result, I brought a half-dozen of my old lefty sticks, and received donations of another half-dozen sticks from a local Play it Again Sports on Long Island, of which only 3 were righty, and two of those were for children. Originally, my plan was to receive a donation or purchase two sets of hockey goals that came with large backstop-netting, so that wide shots would stay in the rink. In the meantime, I had discussed with SECMOL the proper size of the nets, and when they notified me they had welded some pipe to regulation size, I was able to purchase netting to line the pipes. The morning of my departure, I rushed out to a sporting goods store the moment they opened, and purchased lacrosse-style netting, against the recommendation of the people in the store. I then went into the neighboring hardware store and purchased 1 large bag of industrial strength ties. Both pairs of skates were mine from the past, and along with the rest of my equipment, the plan was to leave everything behind. It’s very Buddhist not to hold on to possessions, and since everything is replaceable for me, and difficult to get for the Ladakhis, it seemed like the best option. That, and I would be able to lighten my load for when I began my travel around India. As you know from my first post here in Ladakh, my child-like tendencies took over and I had jumped onto the rink within a couple of hours of arriving, stupidly taunting the altitude to prove that it could debilitate me. Prior to the headache that REALLY felt like a slap-shot to the temple, I was told that the sticks I called lefty are also called lefty in Ladakh (shocker, I know), and that they had actually needed righty sticks, as over 90% of the players shoot from the right side. Damn. In that first session on the ice, the mid-level players, many female, were on the ice playing around with one of the instructors from Vermont. She quickly deferred to me, and I showed everyone how to take a proper wrist shot (naturally, I missed the net on one of my first attempts, but no matter), and then worked on some puck-handling drills before getting into a scrimmage. This was my only lesson for the better part of two weeks. The oldest boys’ team was participating in a local tournament, the same tournament I identified as having a SECMOL player dominating his competition on selfish play, and while they were competing in the late rounds of the tournament, the rest of us traveled to the opposite side of Ladakh to participate in a tournament in Chiktan/Kargil, co-sponsored by SECMOL. At this point, I was made aware that there was more tournament play upcoming when we returned to the Leh area (the capital of Ladakh), and that many of the top players would be involved in that tournament too. We agreed that my instruction should begin after the tournament ended. The only other interaction with hockey at SECMOL was in the scrimmage we organized between our American team and the top boys’ team, in which we absolutely demolished our better conditioned/acclimated opponents on the backs of our superior passing (and speed and shot accuracy). As we played out our drubbing, I made a point to call out the selfish play of the “all-star”, and noticed his game (along with the rest of his teammates) morphing into a cone-like strategy of stand and wait for the puck to come. Again, based on earlier posts, you know that the tournament I speak of was the national tournament, and I had become heavily involved in everything around this event, including the drama, unfortunately. In the middle of the national tournament, was the Canadian tournament, and when all was said and done, 7-8 days were devoted to these two conjoined hockey happenings. During this period, I was practically unseen at SECMOL, waking up early to head into Leh, staying in town all day, and returning late at night, if I returned at all. Although we had discussed that my lessons would begin when all of this ended, I was starting to feel like a man who wasn’t living up to his word. I had come to Leh for SECMOL, and was seen dealing with an organization that has had strained relations with the embattled NGO: the Ladakh Winter Sports Club. I had to be repeatedly reminded by my friend Henk that I was in Ladakh for hockey, and based on my discussions with SECMOL and my contribution to the rest of Ladakhi hockey, I was upholding my initial goal: to share happiness one puck at a time. Phew, I was getting worried.
As the tournament was winding down, I organized an off-ice hockey class at SECMOL to go over the basics of hockey. Just like with the local referees, this class was focused on discussing penalties, off-sides, and icing. The group was engaged for an hour, working through my English, a translator, and “Slap Shot”-like demonstrations of how to commit the penalties, as well as the signals for them. At the same time, I began working with the most advanced players from SECMOL in private sessions (which ended up quickly becoming public, because many of the other students would force their way in), including the player previously identified as selfish. He had performed relatively miserably in his earliest matches in the national tournament, and I attempted to reinforce what constitutes quality hockey in North America. Our time together wasn’t as productive as I would have liked, as he had a hard time understanding the concept of a snap-shot (something I didn’t want to get into, but one of the Vermont students had introduced it), as well as how to break out of the defensive zone and find the puck. People used to say that Wayne Gretzky would always “have the puck find his stick”, but in reality that means that Gretzky was smart enough to understand where the puck was going, and make sure he was there. These were the things I was trying to teach him, as well as how to make close passes while moving in all directions. The conditions of the ice at this point in the training was less than forgiving, and at one point I caught my skate in a deep rut, and fell backwards on my lower back, an area I severely injured in a hockey when I was a teenager, that gets easily aggravated and affects all movement in my body when it flares up. Fortunately, this pain subsided quickly, and without any intense spasms. When the tournament ended, I was able to really get to work with the SECMOL players. In the late afternoons, as the sun was setting, I dragged “formerly selfish” out onto the ice, along with a few of his teammates, and we worked on honing some of the intermediate skills, like deflections and breakouts. In the mornings (yes, I’m going backwards), I spent a couple of days instructing the less advanced groups, working on passing, skating (in particular, backwards), shooting, and 2-on-1 drills. In the evening, we went back into the classroom for a few more lessons. You already know day one. Day two discussed face-off positioning, and day three was about zone-play, including break-outs. Afterwards, I gave the group an overview of the NHL, including listing all of the teams and showing where they were on the map. To my disappointment, these so-called hockey fanatics knew nothing about the NHL, or about North American geography. To my further disappointment, I forgot one NHL team, and not until 4 days later did I remember which team I had left off out of the hockey geography lesson: sorry Colorado Avalanche fans! All of this training with the players at SECMOL was in my final scheduled days in Ladakh, but as you will soon find out, this intense period of hockey overload and instruction at SECMOL was only a sliver of what was going on. It only gets better! *I have made a conscious decision to ignore the foundations of proper grammar here, and use “good” instead of “well”. I think the term “I’ve done good” is much more representative of something that feels inherently decent and morally right, whereas “I’ve done well” seems mediocre and impersonal.
Ice Hockey in Ladakh, Part 5: The Red Coats are coming! Er, uh, I mean the Canadians are coming!
This posting is in conformity with the rest of this blog, but the post is easily modifiable for a newspaper article. Pictures will not be posted to this article until at least February 19, due to poor internet in Ladakh. In the meantime, you can check out pictures on my Flickr account: Anyway…enjoy…
In my apparent ego-centrism, narcissism and ignorance, I wrongly assumed that I was the Christopher Columbus of ice hockey in Ladakh. “I have discovered hockey in Ladakh,” I said to myself in my head, but like Columbus in regards to America, many had come before me. Obviously, hockey was being played in Ladakh, and has been for some time. It became logical, seeing as all you needed was some ice and hockey equipment. People that came here for hockey over the years brought it with them, which solved that riddle.
So many sports stories begin with who beat whom and which player performed the best. We hear about the rivalry of sports and see the behavior of fans as crude, ignorant or violent. But what gets lost in the shuffle is how sports can bring people together.
For almost a decade now, members of the Canadian High Commission (Embassy) in Delhi have been coming up to Leh, Ladakh in the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. They have been participating in a friendly tournament, the Indo-Canadian Friendship Cup, with local hockey teams, and have been bonding over the sport of ice hockey in the only region in India where ice forms naturally.
This was news to me. At the onset of the 4th National Ice Hockey Tournament, I was informed that a team of Canadians was coming. I had seen a sign around the rink thanking the NHLPA for their support of Ladakhi hockey, but was completely stunned to learn that a bunch of players would come up from Delhi when it’s a beautiful 70°F (approx 23°C), year in and year out, tough out altitude sickness, and share their happiness as well!
Furthermore, the national tournament stopped. Completely. Play would resume once the Canadian team left.
Tony Kretzschmar, who used to work for an engineering company in Delhi, has been participating in the tournament since its inception. He now works in Shanghai, but set aside time in his schedule every year to visit one of the most remote regions in the world.
For your benefit, here is a full quote from Tony:
“I have had the distinct privilege of seeing the game of hockey develop in Leh since 2001. When I think back to the way they use to play back then, using field hockey sticks, old rusty skates, very little equipment, and even less understanding of the rules of the game, I feel a great sense of pride in seeing the teams play today. The progress has been heartwarming, and it was nice to see the games against Canadian teams not only resulting in Canadian domination…they actually beat us a few times in the championship over the years. However the goal of our annual Canadian team visits is not to win, it’s more about hockey diplomacy and developing the game for the benefit of the children. The social aspect has grown out of what started out as a high adventure pure sporting initiative. I must say this is truly what brings me back and drives me to work on connecting the many folks around the world who want to help.”
The games are always close in these competitions. The Canadian (and a few American) players don’t have much opportunity to play hockey while stationed in India, and their brief trip into an altitude of nearly 12,000 feet (about twice that of Denver, or three times that of Calgary) make it nearly impossible for the players to over-exert themselves. Air is thin, and breath becomes short.
Manitoba native Casey Guenther, a teacher at Woodstock International School in a relatively nearby state of Uttarakhand (nothing is nearby Ladakh in the Winter), was one of the top players on the Canadian team. He and his wife had visited Leh in the Summer of 2008 and “…fell in love with the place, but it’s the first time [coming here] in Winter.” A tall, lean player who looked to be in good shape, Casey, like so many others, had a hard time with the altitude. “Besides not being able to breath, it’s good. [My coming back now. It’s great. Hard to breath, but it’s fun.”
Over the years, the relationship between the Canadian High Commission team - only partially comprised of High Commission staff - has intensified. Each year, the team has donated equipment, and has increased awareness in Canada that has resulted in more equipment and resources to the Ladakh Winter Sports Club, including a skate sharpener, although I was informed that it took years to get this up and running, as it was a 110V North American style plug, and the converter needed was in Delhi. For a long time, nobody ever bothered to purchase it and bring it back to Leh.
Ego aside, I was delighted to hear about the Canadian team coming, and I made it a priority to meet the folks involved and get some good pictures, video and interviews. As usual, I quickly got absorbed into everything, and had met one of the members of the High Commission prior to the full team arriving and we had a nice chat over lunch. Once the tournament had begun, I made it over to the rink and struck up some conversation with family members of the team. They informed me that this was far and away the largest group to come up for the tournament, 47 – most being family & friends of the team.
The fans are active participants in these games. The crowd, expectant of fun hockey matches, was large and loud. No matter which team was with the puck, a deep roar would sweep the sunken, stone-lined rink whenever a top player on either team would touch the puck. Envision Alex Ovechkin on a shorthanded breakaway with 1 minute left in the 3rd period, in a tied playoff game 7.
Although many of them were admittedly out of shape, and all of them were having difficulty breathing, the High Commission team was able to hold off the J&K teams in consecutive competitions on Day 1, a Saturday. This was when I got most of my interviews with the team, and a handful of their players, including, Ken Macartney, the Deputy High Commissioner. “This is my third year in Ladakh,” said Ken, “and it’s fantastic…one of the most beautiful rinks in the world.” For Ken, it brought back nostalgic sentiments. “It’s a reminder of small town Canada. It’s a great experience and we look forward to it at the High Commission and in the [participating] Canadian community.”
The temperature had become increasingly warm during the days of these matches this year, with mid-day temperatures reaching about 1-2°C/33-35°F. As you know from your science classes from the days when you received some variety of education, ice melts at 0°C/32°F. The same is true at high altitude, where the sun shining down on a pond that continues to receive running water and is surrounded by heat-absorbing rocks brings the temperature above freezing. As the ice gets cut up in these conditions, it becomes increasingly dangerous. This is similar to what our American team dealt with in Kargil (Ice Hockey in Ladakh, Part 2 - Kargil Tournament).
Just like when the Chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir attended the finals of the 4th National Ice Hockey Tournament, the Karzoo Ice Rink just a quarter mile away from the Main Bazaar (Main Street) of Leh began to sink under the weight of 2-3 times the normal capacity. Often times, a whole group of people had to pick up all of their gear and belongings, and shuffle off to a different portion of the rink. That is, until that section started to sink.
Last year, it was quite the opposite. Depending on your point of view, the weather was either great for hockey, or way too cold for civilization. Canadian goalie Sarah Finall, an employee of the Canadian High Commission, participated in her first tournament last year upon her posting to Delhi. According to Sarah, “this whole experience is fabulous, even though it was minus 30°C (about -25°F) last year and I nearly died!” Her sentiment regarding the experience of hockey in Leh and the hospitality of the Ladakhis was consistent throughout the group. “It’s something you don’t want to miss,” stated Sarah, “it’s so amazing. The Ladakhi people are so great and welcoming.” The altitude was just part of the experience for Sarah, “What an experience to come up and play hockey at this altitude!”
Rumor had come my way that there would be a banquet at the “Only star hotel in Ladakh” (think about that for a second), and while I had assumed that I would be able to attend that event, I was never given a formal invite, so a local friend, Henk Thoma (no, he’s not Ladakhi…he’s a Dutch transplant that I’ll tell you about in a future post) and I went back to SECMOL and watched their “State of the Campus” address. Each student was responsible for a particular responsibility at SECMOL, including management of the library, collecting money, ice-rink maintenance, and milking the cows. The judges of their presentations critiqued their poor presentation skills, and although most of what I said was under my breath to Henk, I was very disappointed when the winning presentation had endless typos and poor grammar. Especially since one of the presenters was a European that was there teaching English. Nonetheless, afterwards, the group got to relax and get to one of their favorite activities: singing along with Ladakhi music and dancing in a way reminiscent of MTV’s, “The Grind”, circa 1994.
The next day, the final match between the Canadians and an All-Star J&K team commenced. But due to continued poor weather (in hockey terms), the game was called at the end of the second period with a tie-game. The fans in attendance were disappointed at the outcome, but when safety is concerned, I err on the side of being conservative (well, sometimes I do), and after a few injuries sustained to the players on the Canadian team, they felt it was in the best interest of self-preservation to stop the game.
After the game, I went into the office where the Ladakh Winter Sports Club camps out, and on one of the tables was my formal invitation to the banquet that was held the night before. As I spoke to the LWSC members during the day, they had asked why I wasn’t in attendance. “I didn’t know I was invited,” I replied. One of them told me that when he saw me walking in the Main Bazaar, he assumed I was heading to the hotel, even though they apparently had a car to take me. Oh well. That evening, it was more than made up for, and entirely on accident.
The previous week, when Akshay Kumar of the Ice Hockey Association of India had come to Leh, Henk and I met him at the same hotel for dinner, and we were both very impressed, as we were both accustomed to the traditional amenities of Leh and throughout Ladakh. Granted, I’ve only been here for a handful of weeks, but Henk has been living in Leh for over a decade. We had decided that we were going to treat ourselves to a nice dinner at the hotel and enjoy something different than rice and daal (lentils).
I guess in the back of our minds we knew there was a chance things would play out as they did. Upon our arrival at the hotel, we immediately ran into some of the folks from the Canadian entourage and the Ladakh Winter Sports Club. We were quickly invited into their banquet that was about to begin, and while I’m sure a handful of people were wondering how and when we got ourselves into this dinner, it was an innocent coincidence.
Fortunately, Henk and I already being familiar with the Ladakh Winter Sports Club and my previous interaction with the Canadian group, we easily interacted with everyone at the party. For me, this was one of the most significant and impactful moments of my trip to date. Everybody from this group was incredibly warm and kind-hearted, which immediately cancelled whatever apprehension was in the back of my mind, being a stranger and an American (it’s easy to feel judged on a hockey-level by Canadians). The hockey talk was enlightening!
I heard stories from all different people about the prior support that Ladakh has received in ice hockey, and it’s plenty! The first Canadian team played in Leh in 2001, opening the eyes of the population to the North American style of the game. Within a few years, Canadian press had covered hockey in Ladakh and India in a handful of specials, and a couple from Canada produced an award-winning documentary: “Hockey Night in Ladakh” to showcase the passion for the game in Ladakh.
In 2003, the NHLPA Goals and Dreams Foundation donated 50 sets of equipment to the Ladakh Winter Sports Club. Coaches from New Zealand came in 2004 and spent a month teaching ice hockey and figure skating. In 2005, money was set aside to start the construction of an indoor ice hockey rink in Leh. That rink has yet to break ground, but after this year’s national tournament, the Chief Minister f Jammu & Kashmir pledged twice as much money and vowed that the rink would be completed.
The Los Angeles Kings Junior coach also came in 2005 to coach, the same year a skate sharpener arrived, and the following year the Kings brought a Ladakhi team to Los Angeles. The coach of the team Ladakhi team was initially denied his visa to America, but after some maneuvering was able to get his visa and accompany his team to the States. He never returned to India. He’s somewhere in California, most likely the Los Angeles area, and is married to an American woman.
Beginning in 2007, the Montreal Canadiens have been supporting Health, Inc., a non-profit operating in rural Ladakh. They held coaching clinics in Ladakh, as well as donating equipment.
To find out all of this was overwhelming, but in the best of ways. I could not be more delighted to see how much support has been given to Ladakhis to improve their hockey, but there’s a flip side.
The longer I stay in Ladakh, and the more people I talk to about Ladakh, the more I have learned about the negative aspects of Ladakh. Sure, the people are very welcoming, and I have been treated with nothing but the utmost respect. At the same time, there is a pattern of staggered support - usually one season of coaching or donations - given to a culture that has their palms wide-open, and as a result, very little progress has been made. For nearly a decade now, people with the best of intentions come to Ladakh, fall in love with initial impressions and gorgeous scenery, and do what they can to help the people. The fact of the matter is that Ladakh is an area that receives a disproportional amount of government support because it’s a border territory, so the people need to be kept happy…or at least content. It has a large population that is uneducated and out of work, corruption is prevalent, and because tourism is the staple industry, Westerners are relied upon for their good graces and deep pockets.
At the end of the day, I am not here to fix a culture, nor do I want to. I’m also not blaming anyone, as I have also developed a love for Ladakh. That being said, I DO want to change the hockey culture here. The passion and love of the game that I felt from the Canadian group was as palpable as that of the Ladakhis, and I vowed to all of them that my only goal here is to tap into the passion for the game and help it grow. I voiced my desire to work with the Canadians next year, and hopefully join their team, and I know they are interested in holding their own hockey clinic here next winter, something that would break with a pattern of coming up for a couple of days, playing a few games, throwing some parties, and going back to life in Delhi or abroad.
I would like to see everyone involved in Ladakhi hockey to have a more focused, cooperative plan, this way we don’t take baby steps each winter, and see all of our work done for naught. Instead, with our sustained support, we can take giant leaps year-round. If we work together and strategize, we can do so much more to improve the quality of hockey in Ladakh, like training local coaches to train the local population.
Since my passion is hockey, I would do a disservice to myself, and everyone involved in the sport, if I didn’t share my concern and ideas for how we can share our mutual love for the game. The promising part is that I know everyone I’ve met here feels the same way about the game as I do, and with our mutual passion, anything can be accomplished! I can’t wait to get to work!
Ice Hockey in Ladakh, Part 4: Indian Hockey Drama
The 4th National Ice Hockey Championship was held in Leh because it’s possibly the most populous city in India that can sustain ice in the Winter. The Ladakh Winter Sports Club (LWSC), based in Leh, was tasked by the Ice Hockey Association of India (IHAI) to facilitate this tournament, which included 3 local military teams, 2 local Jammu & Kashmir (aka Leh) teams, 1 team from Kargil, and 1 ex-military team, which included 10 players from SECMOL (no, they are/were not in the military). The drama began before the tournament, when the SECMOL students were not allowed their own team. To make matters worse, they were placed on the J&K teams, without their knowledge, even though they had agreed to play with the ex-military team. This was not seen positively by the LWSC, even though the players were at no fault. They were upset they weren’t allowed their own team that had just participated in a tournament in the same rink, run by the same organization, but other teams that played in the prior tournament, including the champs, were also not officially invited to participate. That being said, every player was eligible to participate. My presence was requested by Akshay Kumar of the IHAI to assist the head official in keeping score until he got used to the system, ensuring the referees were living up to the lessons they swore they understood, and to scout out the best players to be invited on the Indian Ice Hockey Team when they travel to Abu Dhabi, UAE for the 2009 IIHF Asia Challenge Cup. The first day of play was freezing, and after recording Akshay and a local government official making their speeches, I sat somewhat idle for the next 3 hours, until my toes were M.I.A. I had to go on a rescue mission just to ensure they were still with me. The head official took to the score-sheets pretty well, although I provided the tally of who scored and who assisted, as the referees never skated over to us during game-play. Speaking of the refs, apparently I was speaking a different language, because they did not do half of the things I spoke to them about – things they swore they understood fully. Game-play for the first 2 days was good. Many players stood out, including a handful of goalies that were surprisingly competent, and many games ended with very small goal differentials. One thing was clear though, the military teams were far better than their competition. The biggest factors in the success of the military teams are the inherent teamwork mentality of the military and their conditioning. They are used to working together, supporting each other, knowing the strengths and weaknesses of their comrades, and they could skate all day. The local players didn’t know each other, didn’t have a teamwork mentality, and were not nearly as conditioned, although many were very capable. On day 1, icing was being called somewhat often, and my pride was growing, but as the day progressed, off-sides were being called improperly, and my pride settled back down. When players skated off-sides, this was called. It’s the easiest of the calls, and if they didn’t get that right at least 90% of the time, I would probably have started crying right there. When it came to passing off-sides, the referees were calling this as well…so far, so good. The difference here is that instead of a face-off outside of the zone you transgressed, the faceoff should be even wherever the pass originated from, or even with the face-off dots in the vicinity. OK…I can accept this error, and this was already improvement, so beggars can’t be choosers. When there was a delayed off-sides - that is, some players in the offensive zone before the puck – the play was called off-sides, whether the puck was shot in or not, whether it hit the net, or not. I know, I’m nitpicking, but this stuff matters to me, especially since it’s part of the basics. If India wants to compete on the international stage, I don’t want them to look foolish not understanding off-sides rules…that would be embarrassing. The matches were exciting, as many of the teams were even, and the support I provided to the Ladakh Winter Sports Club, the referees, and to the Ice Hockey Association of India left me feeling confident that I could skip day three and do some writing about the previous events. Bad idea on my part. Day three began with super drama. In a classic unsportsmanlike move, two of the military teams arranged to fix their match to help each other make the playoffs and prevent other teams from making it. In their opinion, the more goals each team scored would help them advance into the semi-finals, so each team scored about 20 goals in their head to head match. In prior games, the most goals scored were 8, and that was when there was a far superior team. Two somewhat equal teams will not score 20 goals against each other in that type of setting. In response, two of the local teams arranged their match similarly, with the better of the two scoring 32 goals, and the lesser of the two scoring 16. One of those teams had children of people in the military, including some players, and they pulled their children out of the games. What’s unclear to me is whether these players were pulled out of their game by parents of the team that had fixed the previous match so that they could fix this match also, or if the players were pulled out by parents from the other military branch in protest. Either way, one of the teams ended up playing a game that day with only 3 players and a goalie. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop there. Somewhere in this melee, players from the Army started throwing stones onto the rink because the responsive match fixing prevented their team from making it into the playoffs. Nobody was hit or injured. I had left on day two feeling confident that things were OK at the tournament, but came into a bunch of controversy when I arrived at the rink late on day 3. Had I been there, I absolutely would have been up on the rink shouting, as I was prone to do when referees missed an icing, off-sides or penalty. If I was present for blatant match fixing, I would’ve made sure that the offenders be stopped on the spot – regardless of the fact that I am not an official of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club. Instead, the LWSC didn’t do anything to stop what was going on, and expected a referee with no training, that was playing for one of the teams in the tournament to stand up to a crowd of soldiers and tell them to play nice. I have the U.S. Embassy to back me up, or so I believe; they have a broken hockey stick. The team from Kargil, along with the military team not involved in match fixing, and the ex-servicemen team all filed protests with the LWSC, which went to a board of review that was overseen by the D.C., the highest ranking official in the region of Ladakh. At the same time, the captain of the ex-servicemen was practicing what not to do in interpersonal communication by not telling the SECMOL players of the details, and the fact that there was a review panel. He also didn’t communicate information about the game they were scheduled to play on Day 4. From the best of my understanding, there was discussion to boycott the game that was mutually agreed up by all players of the team, but it seems like they had different reasons. One thing is perfectly clear to me, none of them knew enough to make an informed decision, and this is the fact that bothers me the most. [Disclaimer: What I’m about to present is an opinion based argument that may offend some of the involved parties (if I haven’t already done so). It’s meant to be nothing more than a reflection of what I saw, and I if additional evidence is presented to me, I will happily (or not so happily) amend my argument.] There is no doubt that match-fixing is a terrible thing to do in a sporting match, especially a sport that I argue has a higher set of morals and ideals. The teams assumed that running up the score would enhance their chances of advancing in a tournament, and when I explained to some that in fact it’s goals against that is counted first, then goals for, then goal differential (difference between goals against and goals for), the reaction I got was, “…well then the teams would have just played to a 0-0 tie”. Maybe that’s true, but the attitude on this respect is defeatist. The reality is that there are a few players on practically every team that are capable of committing an unsportsmanlike conduct in a sporting match, no matter how much we try to groom them and assume everyone is a perfect person and player. Throwing stones onto the rink is not only unsportsmanlike, but it’s incredibly dangerous, and everyone is fortunate that nobody got hurt. There should be a sign that says: “Common Sense: Don’t throw rocks on the rink when frozen, as it can cause cracks.” As it was explained to me, nobody was aiming for any players, they were just throwing rocks in disgust. Well I guess I can understand their frustration, but it began with their comrades fixing a match. The ex-men (their nickname) boycotted their game on Day 4, something I was unaware of until it was happening, and totally unsupportive of. The argument from their side, through a non-hockey representative, was that they shouldn’t play in a tournament that has no discipline, control or sportsmanship, and in that regards, I agree. There are few things more disheartening in sports than a lack of control and respect. But the game must go on. Mental toughness needs to set in and take a hold. Especially in a sport like ice hockey, that requires an immense amount of mental discipline. At the same time, the members of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club were greatly offended by the boycotting of their tournament by a team that was already embroiled in apparent controversy (between the girls not being able to participate in the previous tournament because they were co-organizers of the tournament in Kargil, and the boys not playing on one of the J&K teams, although they weren’t aware of it until later on). Despite their mismanagement in the breakdown of order and discipline in their tournament, I agree with the offense of boycotting the game for a few reasons: The following day, the panel made its decision. They acknowledged that dishonorable intentions were at play, but without hard evidence, they felt there was nothing they could do. They recommended that people caught throwing rocks and/or taking their children out of the game personally be suspended from tournament play (and all of the respective privileges) for 1-2 years. I received minutes of the report around 1-2 days after the meeting of the jury, a meeting I wish I was called into to present the rules and precedence to the panel. That obviously didn’t happen. I was also told that there were players willing to testify that teams blatantly set out to fix the match, but that they weren’t able to present their argument. This team had sent official complaints to every administrator and public official responsible for hockey in Ladakh all the way through to Delhi. Obviously that made the situation a bit more complicated, when the Sports Ministry chief gets a complaint about a tournament he probably only knew vague details about. The ex-men team showed up the next day after I gave a stern (and initially misunderstood) lecture over the phone about how boycotting only makes the situation worse, in all aspects, and it is intensified by the situations that SECMOL has been involved with over the winter (and past years…visit the SECMOL website for more details on that). I didn’t want to see anyone lose out, especially since the captain of the team was not present for much of the proceedings, and blindly made decisions without communicating with the SECMOL group. The players accosted me, and then Mr. Kumar, and demanded that they play their original semi-final match that they had boycotted the day earlier. Both of us were in agreement that this was a lofty demand, considering the circumstances, and after Akshay spoke to them and told them they should’ve appeared yesterday, there request was denied. In the end, the ex-servicemen team played in the Bronze Medal game, and after competing in the first period, there defeatist nature set in and they fell apart on the ice, with an obvious lack of passion and motivation. My message didn’t get through. If there is any time to tap into passion and mental toughness, this was it, and they failed. I realize they were distraught and frustrated, but I like to take that aggression out by playing strong, smart hockey, not by laying down on the rink and letting people skate all over me. That’s not the hockey way. The final match was scheduled for the following between one of the accused military teams and one of the accused local teams, but not until the chief guest showed up, naturally. Whereas the chief guest to inaugurate the tournament was the CEC (Chief Executive Counselor – a decently high local official), the Chief Minister of Jammu & Kashmir, Omar Abdullah, the equivalent of a governor in the United States. Unfortunately, fog delayed his takeoff from Jammu (the winter capital of J&K…the summer capital is Jammu), so the game didn’t start for a few hours. The issue with this is that over the past few days, the weather became a bit warmer than normal, and by noon time, the ice started to melt and fall apart. The decision was made to start the game without the CM and the game started with a predicted lack of control and discipline. Just as in the NHL, once the advanced play began, whistles get put away. For the whole game, 1 penalty was called, when many, including a penalty shot, should’ve been called. Before the 3rd period began, we got word that the CM had landed, and was on his way from the airport, so game-play was halted. As the crowd waited, the players lined up at the end of the rink, waiting to meet the youngest Chief Minister in Jammu & Kashmir history, the son and grandson of former Chief Ministers. With two teams and a handful of delegates all waiting in the same area on the rink, the ice started to crack and the pond water began to creep up onto the ice surface. This is something we had become accustomed to, so we quickly shifted everyone to a (temporarily) strong section of the rink, and the speeches commenced. First the CEC made a speech, then Akshay Kumar, both in Hindi – so I assume they were speaking about me exclusively, even though I couldn’t understand any of it. The game continued with intensity, and ended in a 1-1 tie. Having experienced this already in the semi-final match that played, the 5-minute overtime played through and the game went to a shoot-out. Because of the primitive zamboni – straw and wood brooms – only one side of the rink was used for the shoot-out. The rink had a crowd of nearly 5,000 fans, and the energy was palpable. When space ran out around the rink, fans piled into nearby roof-tops, like Wrigley Field in the summer. When roof-space ran out, children went under a platform that held mid-level guests. All you could see were faces sticking out, barely able to see the game. When space under the deck ran out, people started claiming trees. Dozens of people piled on the apparently sturdy trees around the rink, some holding as many as 50 people. One guy climbed about 20 feet high in a narrow tree that he must have reserved, because nobody else went in the tree. I was told by a local that the people will urinate while in the tree just so they don’t lose their spot. Whether or not it’s true, it’s believable. The game ended with a 2-0 shootout win for the military team. They figured out the secret to scoring on a breakaway: lateral movement…especially in Ladakh, where the goalies sit back in the net and have a hard time moving side to side. The military crowd went crazy, and the roar was deafening. I felt like I was in an NHL arena during a playoff game! The Chief Minister made a speech after the game, promising (as past politicians have) that he would increase the funding for sports in Ladakh, in particular ice hockey. Ladakh, being a “tribal region” on the border with Tibet/China and in a state bordering Pakistan, is vitally important to the Indian government. But they have their issues. Employment is low, and tourism is the main industry keeping the area sustainable. To increase the resources for ice hockey in Ladakh puts people to work (hopefully not to construct the new arena that was supposed to be built 8 years ago), and provides a greater incentive for hockey tourism, which will absolutely grow. As I have stated many times, hockey can improve the way of life for people. Sometimes it’s nuanced, like the lessons we can learn from the game, and other times it’s blatant, like when people can put it on their resume for a better career or get employment from the growth of the industry. For me, I agreed with a local friend when he stated that this drama was good for the long-term advancement of the game. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I was in attendance that day, and maybe I could’ve helped the resolution if I was in the loop throughout, but at least I feel confident that my advice is in the spirit of the people and the game. I instructed them on how to handle these ordeals, and I hope they listened. Drama, politics and unsportsmanlike behavior will happen in hockey. But through it we learn, improve and grow. The game will change, and so will we. What I didn’t yet mention was that at the end of his speech, the Chief Minister walked directly towards me (surround by his entourage), and thanked me personally for my assistance in the hockey community. We had a brief chat about my time in Ladakh, and I affirmed to him that I would continue my support for Ladakh as long as I could. Additionally, a reporter from the Hindustan Times covered the event and hockey in Ladakh & India in general, which came out yesterday (from this post). In the article, I am quoted and listed as a former NHL player, something I have adamantly avoided claiming, no matter where I am. I could list the amusing occasions where I couldn’t avoid being perceived as a player, but this is already almost 3,500 words, so I’ll spare you…for now. Nonetheless, please check out the article: Condensed URL: http://is.gd/iIu9 Also, be sure to check out not only my photo gallery: http://www.flickr.com/photos/34781538@N08/sets/72157613464001176/ but Akshay Kumar’s photo gallery as well: http://picasaweb.google.co.in/lh/sredir?uname=musifat&target=ALBUM&id=5297393326109710529&authkey=5A0yKadN1XI&feat=email
In order to make an educated, rational decision, you must know the facts. It’s very easy to sit back and play the role of victim (or hero), especially when the past predicates this reaction. If we blindly act harshly, without addressing the LWSC members to find out exactly what is going on, you fall in the category of “poor judgment”. To wait for an organization to publicly admit fault and/or cast blame on transgressors
before playing is not the best way to a speedy and appropriate solution.
Ice Hockey in Ladakh, Part 3: Slap-shooting Idealism into Practice
The reason why we rushed back from Chiktan to Leh was that we scheduled a hockey game against the top SECMOL team that had missed the Kargil Open to participate in the CEC Cup in Leh, a prominent tournament hosted by the Ladakh Winter Sports Club. As you know already (PART 1), this is the same tournament that had the SECMOL team dominated 15-0 in their first game, but they were able to rebound very well on the backs of a few players and make it to the finals. If they hadn’t made it to the playoffs, they would’ve joined us in Chiktan/Kargil. The night we returned, we went straight to Leh and stayed with some relatives of the aforementioned Tashi Angchok…what an amazing guy, by the way! Once again, these folks were incredibly warm and friendly. As common in Leh, they had specifically built small guest rooms on their property, which had a double and a triple room with non-functioning western-style bathrooms. Hey, it’s the thought that counts! Dinner and breakfast at the house were delicious, and as with all of the families I have met so far, their children were adorable, and cared for in the most heart-warming ways! After breakfast, the Vermont, USA triumphantly returned to SECMOL, with the trophy that had “Winner, Men’s Final” written on it (as stated previously, one of our players was a woman…still is, as a matter of fact). We played against the top boys team that had remained behind, this time without our 3 Ladakhi’s (although we borrowed a new Ladakhi goalie), and absolutely dominated them through our passing. At the end of the day, 5 non-acclimatized Americans that know how to pass, skate and shoot, can dominate any number of Ladakhi’s that can’t. It also allowed me to really notice the hockey deficiencies that I need to work on with their team, and in particular the players with the most potential. That evening, we returned to Tashi’s to watch the Obama inauguration (yes, this is delayed by about a week…it allows me to set up stories). Our hosts prepared a special feast and we went into the Leh Bazaar (Main St.) to pick up snacks, beer and juice (Vitamin C is in high demand here during the Winter). Watching everything from Leh, Ladakh, Jammu & Kashmir, India is one of the most unique things I ever could have imagined for such an important moment in American history. Myself, 4 folks from Vermont, and Tashi huddled up in a small room around a heater and TV, snacking silently, late at night, watching everything unfold. At 11pm, in the middle of Obama’s speech, when the power of Leh got turned off, our generator turned on, but not before missing about 2 minutes or so of the speech. The reason I bring up President Obama is that in no small part, what is happening at home has contributed to what I am trying to do abroad. The pride I felt after Election Day in the fact that change is possible - and hopefully coming - motivated me to do my part. I have been an idealist for some time, and while you can’t live each day in a state of disillusion and think the world is a perfect place with friendly people, that doesn’t mean we can’t strive to contribute to the improvement. The election, and in particular the inauguration, was reinforcement that when people work together to make a difference, they can achieve anything. I want to work with people that love hockey, care about the ideals (the base of “idealism”) of the game, and want to improve the lives of children in India, as well as children around the world, utilizing a sport that can be so empowering. As in China, where hockey has given the children more opportunities for a better education, or play hockey professionally in Asia, if not represent their country in the Olympics, the same is true in India. In a country where there is still rampant corruption, an immense population (1.1 billion and growing faster than China’s 1.3 billion), and an underlying current of tension stemming from religious and/or cultural factors – the caste system still exists in some ways, and there is a major difference between rural and urban populations – participating in a major hockey tournament in India is something to put on your resume and receive a distinct competitive edge when looking for jobs, such as in the military (a very desirable job here). Before the 4th National Ice Hockey Tournament began, Tashi wanted to introduce me to someone. Before he could say anything, I knew what he was referring to. Before I departed on my journey to Ladakh & India, I reached out to Akshay Kumar, General Secretary of the Ice Hockey Association of India. We had a brief conversation, and vowed to meet when he was in Leh. Since this was about the time I knew I was supposed to meet with Tashi, I knew immediately that he had run into Akshay and discussed how involved I have been with hockey to date. Akshay was with the members of the Ladakh Winter Sports Club, the local body that runs the hockey in Ladakh…and by Ladakh, I mean Leh, as other regions of Ladakh have their own organizations (such as Kargil Ice and Snow Sports Club, or something to that affect). I discussed my background with youth hockey, as well as my passion for the sport and how I want to see it improve in India, and he shared how the association has grown into recognition/prominence, through some significant challenges, and the plans that he has to really see the sport grow constructively in India. Akshay’s desire to bring India into the world of ice hockey reinforced my desire to help the country succeed! Immediately, we got to work. One of Akshay’s main concerns centered on the scoring system being used. I helped re-draft a score-sheet for officials to use, and explained what every column on the sheet meant and why it was tracked. For the time being, we took off the plus/minus chart, as it is too detailed for their comforts as of yet. As it is, there has been an incredibly tough time just figuring out what player scored the goal, let alone who assisted them. Another concern of his was that with players and referees not understanding the internationally accepted rules of the game, that any team that represents India in international play (in particular the 2009 IIHF Asia Challenge Cup in Abu Dhabi, UAE) would end up embarrassing the country because they were so accustomed to the local rules. I set out to help relieve this problem, and sat down with the local referees and began discussing the basic rules of hockey. For about an hour I instructed them on the penalties, like which ones are common, what the signal for those penalties are, and what the infraction for each call is. I went in depth with them regarding off-sides, icing and how to line up for face-offs as well. Let’s start with icing. When it came to Ladakhi hockey, there is a penchant for taking slap-shots. No doubt, a hard slap-shot to the top blocker corner of the net, or a low slap-shot that gets deflected are very hard to stop for a goaltender. But as we know, the least accurate shot in hockey is the one you slap. Even for trained professionals it’s tough to just pick a spot and hit it, now add a talented goalie. Maybe “talented” is the important word, because goaltending in Ladakh needs to be improved upon heavily…similar to our situation in China a few years ago. To make matters worse here, while the goalies may not be able to stop many shots, most players are not terrific at aiming. They wind up from anywhere on the rink, looking to score on the lowest-percentage shot the game has, especially when you’re in your own defensive zone. As we know, if you miss the net from there, it’s icing, but here in Ladakh, it wasn’t being called. I explained that the background behind icing is to penalize a team that is just delaying the game by shooting the puck down the ice. It’s hockey’s form of prevent defense, and as a result, the face-off comes back in your zone. We discussed the ins and outs of icing, with a lot of questions coming my way regarding a slap-shot goal that was called icing in an earlier tournament that should have been allowed, but was called off for some reason. For the record, the more talented players in Ladakh are so accustomed to taking slap shots from anywhere on the rink, that they actually do hit the goalie in the chest on a regular basis. Sometimes they get lucky and it goes in. I wanted to make sure that even though that type of luck is rare in international play and in the NHL, every referee is prepared for anything. Off-sides was a bit easier to grasp for the group, although it took longer for me to explain. We discussed the difference between skating off-sides, passing off-sides, and shooting the puck while off-sides. At the time, they seemed to really understand all of it, and proved themselves capable of understanding bits and pieces; there is a lot about off-sides that still needs to be ingrained in to the local psyche. The slap-shot dilemma can also be applied to off-sides, as every time the puck would come out of the zone (on a rink that was barely 2/3 that of the NHL), they would immediately attempt a slap-shot. If they were fortunate enough to hit the net, the ruling would be that the play is off-sides and the face-off would be dropped at or near the location of the shot. Yeah, good luck explaining situations like that! In regards to face-offs, the situation in Leh is very similar to in Kargil. I started with where to have face-offs after off-sides, icing and when the goalie covers the puck, and while they swore this was understood, I knew the old habits of dropping pucks anywhere on the ice were going to die hard. The referees also seemed to all have a hot date after their games, because they didn’t give the teams any chance to change before dropping the puck, which was as hurried as could be. They also blew their whistle incessantly, and pointed randomly, which made me feel like I was back in New York watching a traffic cop trying to control the road during rush-hour. At the same time, players were lining up anywhere they damn pleased on the ice, which made Face-Off Philosophy 101 a bit tough to teach. Here’s the thing, in hockey, during a face-off, your teammates are either behind you (e.g. the defense, usually), or lined up with you and the face-off dot (e.g. the forwards, usually). If you have a stray forward that is playing with butterflies out in left-field, (aka hanging out at the other end of the ice), you might be tempted to win the face-off forward to that player. I’d probably want to do the same if that’s the way the game was played, but it’s not. Plus, it’s damn hard! You have to perfectly win your face-off forward to that distant player, through the opposing team’s center and teammates, including one that is probably in man-coverage at the end of the rink. OK…let’s say you magically accomplish that feat, how hard did you have to hit the stick and the puck? If you guessed “very”, you’re correct, and are now qualified to take a face-off against Ladakhis. In an area where sticks and equipment are not easy to come by, you’d think there’d be some logic applied to self-preservation, which includes one’s material possessions. Not the case. Sticks break often, and fly wildly, and players get hit everywhere when they take a face-off. It’s not uncommon to see a puck hurriedly dropped and only 1 player standing at the faceoff dot, or better yet, 2 teammates standing there. Yeah, this is a bit of a challenge! Let the 4th National Ice Hockey Championship begin!
