“What?”
“Scoring slumps have nothing to do with your sweet moves, your sick shot, or your stick handling.”
Trev plays with a puck on his blade.
“It all has to do with what’s up here.” I tap my skull.
He gives me a skeptical look. “I don’t think it’s my brain fucking me up.”
“Sure. Okay. Well, let’s go back to the little things.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t worry about scoring. Scoring is the outcome. Let’s focus on the process. The things you can control.”
He shoots the puck at the net with an easy snap.
“Okay. First thing: no hanging out on the perimeter of the play. You have to get inside the perimeter. Attack the net with the puck and be ready to get hit, slashed, and whacked. Are you doing everything you can to take the puck to the dirty areas in front of the net? Or are you hanging out near the boards?”
He thinks about that.
“Next thing is to keep it simple. Let’s put a number on how many shot attempts you have in the next game. You know how many shots it takes McDavid or Crosby to score a goal?”
“Uh…”
“Seven. It takes them about seven shots. And they’re the best. For you, maybe twenty.”
“What?” He gapes at me.
“Kidding. My point is, if you want to score, you have to shoot the puck at least seven times. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Shoot every time you have a chance. Nothing cute. Nothing fancy. And…” I pause. “Stop trying to make passes when you’re in the shooting zone.”
He makes a face.
I line up seven pucks on the blue line. “Take seven shots. Right now.”
He does it, taking aim at the net. Six out of seven go in.
“And here’s the mental part of it. Don’t think about a black cat.”
“What?” Trev frowns at me.
“Don’t think about a black cat. Absolutely block a black cat from your mind.”
He laughs. “Okay, yeah, I get it. The more I tell myself not to think about it, the more I will.”
“Right. So don’t think about not scoring. Reframe your negative thoughts. Now… remember these things even in practice. Every shot you take on net during practice, play the puck until it’s in the net or the goalie freezes it. Go after the rebounds. Do whatever it takes to get the puck in the net, even when it’s a practice. And when you do it, you scored—tell yourself that.”
We do a few more drills and I give a few more advice snippets. Then we head off to the dressing room.
“Don’t forget to talk to Mikey,” I remind Trev.
He purses his lips and nods. “Thanks for the help,” he says tersely.
“We’ll do it again, yeah?”
