They punch well above their weight in NHL representation. And for years, USA Hockey has studied the Finnish model—trying to decode what people often label as “skill development.”

But here’s the reality check.

If Finnish players were simply more skilled individually, you’d expect them to dominate the NHL’s skills competitions. They don’t. In fact, only a small handful of Finns have ever been singled out as true outliers in those events—the most famous example being Teemu Selänne, who stood out in the 1998 Puck Control Relay.

So if it isn’t raw stickhandling trophies… what is it?

What separates Finland shows up somewhere else entirely: five‑man connection, trust under pressure, and structure that doesn’t break when the game gets hard.

And yet, there’s still something the Finns do that we don’t quite replicate.

I recently had a great conversation with Vladislav Bespomoshchnov (Norwegian School of Sport Sciences) who half‑jokingly said:

“You know you’re watching Team Finland because you see all five players in the picture frame.”

That line stuck with me, because it says everything.

Sisu: The Mindset Behind the Five‑Man Game (why Finland punches above its weight in hockey)

🇫🇮 Finland plays a TEAM game, and that’s not accidental, it’s cultural. 

Finnish hockey is powered by a team mindset which can be captured in one word. sisu.

There is no direct translation in English. The closest comparison is grit, but even that falls short in some aspects. Sisu is a quiet, non‑wavering determination, the stubborn, unbreakable ability to keep going beyond perceived limits, especially when the odds aren’t in your favor. It isn’t loud. It isn’t flashy. It doesn’t need recognition. It’s about doing the work anyway and letting actions speak.

That mindset shows up every shift in Finnish hockey.

When Finland gets pinned in their zone, they don’t panic.

When they’re down a goal, they don’t freelance or cheat for offense.

They stay connected and focused as a team. They trust the next play. They keep coming, shift after shift. That’s what sisu looks like on skates.

Hockey Is the Ultimate Team Sport

I’ve always believed hockey is the ultimate team sport. You can’t hide. You can’t cherry‑pick. You can’t win without defending, supporting, and trusting the other four players on the ice.

I’m also an economist by training, which led me to ask a different question:

Are some countries naturally better aligned with team hockey, not just through coaching systems, but through how their societies function?

In other words, what if we copied the Finnish development model exactly, but dropped it into a different social environment? Would we still get Finnish‑style hockey?

Probably not.

Before asking what we should copy, we need to understand who we are.

A Quick Economics Detour (Stick With Me)

If you took economics at any point, you may remember the Gini coefficient, a measure of income inequality.

Lower Gini → more equal societies

Higher Gini → larger income gaps

When we look at the countries competing at the World Juniors, a pattern emerges:

The United States stands out immediately.

Zoom in even further, to hockey hotbeds like the Gold Coast of Fairfield County, and estimated Gini coefficients approach 0.60. That’s extremely high.

Why This Matters for Hockey

Income inequality doesn’t just shape economies.

It shapes behavior.

In higher‑inequality environments, people can buy independence:

• Private coaches
• Private skills trainers
• Private solutions to shared problems

In lower‑inequality environments, people rely more on:

• Systems
• Teammates
• Shared responsibility

That difference shows up on the ice.

This isn’t a value judgment. It’s a structural reality, and like any experiment, you don’t get the same outcome unless you recreate the same environment.

The Leafs Problem (Yes, I’m Going There)

I’ll admit it, I love beating up on the Leafs.

During the Auston Matthews era, Toronto’s roster Gini hovered around 0.50.

By contrast, recent Stanley Cup champions typically sit in the 0.42–0.47 range.

In plain language:

Cup winners have a bigger middle class.

More role players.

More shared responsibility.

Less dependence on one star solving everything.

That’s team hockey.

So What Should Parents Take Away?

Hockey is hard.

It demands offense and defense.

It demands trust, sacrifice, and interdependence.

If we live in highly unequal environments, we shouldn’t be surprised when:

• Players struggle with defensive buy‑in
• Kids over‑prioritize individual skill
• Team concepts take longer to click

Maybe the answer isn’t copying Finland’s drills.

Maybe it’s:

• Teaching the Code
• Valuing systems over shortcuts
• Spending less time chasing private fixes
• Spending more time teaching kids how to rely on each other

Because at the end of the day, hockey doesn’t reward insulation. It rewards connection. 

“Sisu is something that can’t be bought or copied, it’s built through shared struggle, a mindset to show up when your team needs you most.”

Find. A. Way.

— Greg

Watch Jussi Ahokas (Kitchener Rangers (OHL)) In episode 238 of the Glass and Out Podcast share the Finnish concept of “Sisu,” why you’ll always get better results when people enjoy the enviornment and why positionless hockey is the future of the game. Click here.

The post World Juniors – Why Finland Plays Five‑Man Hockey (And Why That Matters for Our Kids) first appeared on Grit Kore.

A few years ago, I was out for a skate and found myself watching a Junior kid and thinking, “man, this guy is so dumb out there.” The words slipped out before I even realized what I was saying.

Then it hit me—I coach in the same area this kid grew up in. Whether I had him directly or not, I’m part of the system that shaped him. So if his hockey IQ is low, it’s not just his failure. It’s partly mine. Partly ours. That realization kicked off a rabbit hole that I’m still working through.

What is hockey IQ?

I started asking around. Friends of mine who got paid to play or coach the game gave me their take on the concept. The answers were insightful—each one touching on a different piece of the puzzle. But they didn’t quite snap together into something you could hand to a player or a parent and say, this is it. It was like trying to unify quantum mechanics with general relativity—lots of truths, no single theory.

None of the replies seemingly unified the concepts:

Mike Komisarek (11 seasons in the NHL, Defense, Wolverines, Player Development Coach-Vancouver Canucks, hockey dad) put it like this:

“Elite hockey IQ isn’t flashy plays, it’s obsessive execution of the simple, repeatable, unglamorous decisions that never hit the highlight reel. It’s cataloging the wins, owning the mistakes (chewing on them just long enough to learn, then letting them go), and immediately caring more about the next right play than the last screw-up or the scoresheet. It’s supporting the teammate who just got burned, because NHLers make tons of mistakes every night—and the best ones turn them into fuel, not anchors. Process pride. Relentless detail. Total commitment on every shift. That’s the common thread. That’s the standard.”

Max Pacioretty (17 seasons in the NHL, LW, Wolverines, coach/hockey dad) identified differences in payout/non-payout scenarios:

“Kids are obsessed with scoring goals and their hockey IQ seems just fine when they are in a position to score goals.  But their inability to care about the 99.9% of other plays that don’t directly result in a scoring chance is alarming.  So is it an IQ dilemma in other areas of the ice?  Or, is there just no more pride in stacking good plays and worrying about the process rather than the results (goals)?”

Blake Wheeler (16 seasons in the NHL, RW, Golden Gophers, coach/hockey dad) said:

“Competing to win battles, supporting teammates-knowing where and how to support the puck, and the details of doing your job (accountability).”

Steve Shirreffs (3 seasons in the AHL, Princeton All-American, Defense, Principal Granite State Capital, coach/hockey dad)

“The most basic principles of the game are protecting the front of your net, don’t turn the puck over at the blue lines, forecheck/backcheck, move the puck up the ice to teammates, follow the play/gap control, get shots on net.  When I think of someone with a high hockey IQ, I think of someone who is able to think the game to create offensive chances for himself or teammates.”

Daryl Jones (Yale Bulldog, former part-owner of the Phoenix Coyotes, Owner/Director of Research-Hedgeye, the Gold Coast’s Most Eligible Bachelor, The Real Most Interesting Man in the World, coach/hockey dad):

“When I think about hockey IQ skills, I believe they’re scanning, anticipation, risk/reward assessment, positioning with and without the puck, and awareness of the other team’s systems.” 

Matt Deschamps (AHL/ECHL, Black Bears, U. Michigan Assistant Coach, hockey dad):

“I think the basics of hockey IQ are simple, it’s seeing time and space.”

How was I to make sense of these seemingly disparate views?  The defensemen had a nuanced view from the forwards.  The coach had a very simple interpretation.  Was there any agreement?

Then I got a reply from Matt Moulson (11 seasons in the NHL, Big Red, LW, coach/hockey dad) that hit like a bag of pucks dropped from the rafters to the head—but in the best way.

“Hockey IQ starts with knowing yourself—really knowing what you’re capable of. Most so-called ‘dumb’ plays are just players overestimating their skillset and trying low-probability plays. Once you’re honest about what you can do, the game becomes a fluid puzzle. No two situations are the same, but patterns repeat. So you start solving problems in real time—based on your tools, your teammates’, your opponents’, and the context of the game. Every decision is a split-second calculation of risk vs. reward.”

That was it. That was the bridge.

The game isn’t just about smarts with the puck. It’s about being in tune—with yourself, your team, your opponent, and the game itself. That’s when I started thinking of hockey IQ in terms of layers. Overlapping rings, each one spinning at the same time.

Let me break it down.

One ring is the basic objective of the game: score more goals than the other team. Simple. Possess the puck longer. Regain it quicker. Capitalize more often. That’s the scoreboard layer.

The next ring is the game in motion—reading plays, understanding team dynamics, adapting to flow, sensing momentum shifts, knowing your assignment and anticipating where things are going next.

Then there’s context: the score, the clock, your shift length, opponent tendencies, energy level, where you are in the season, what’s happened earlier in the game. That’s real-time game management.

And unifying the three rings is the self. Honest self-awareness. Knowing what you’re great at and what you’re not. Making decisions that serve the team, not your ego. Owning your role, even if it’s not the one you want. Trusting the system. Holding yourself accountable even when the mistake wasn’t fully yours. That’s the heartbeat of hockey IQ.

Visually, we can picture hockey IQ as follows:

And here’s the kicker—these aren’t stages you walk through. These layers are simultaneous. They spin together. The highest IQ players? They don’t think about each layer in order. They line them up instantly, like dials clicking into place. And when they do? The game slows down. It clicks. It flows.

It’s not just cognition anymore—it’s rhythm.  A lot of players commented on ‘being in the present’.  There was no prefrontal cortex activation, it was feeling all of the circles at once:

This isn’t something you just drill into a kid with reps, privates and whiteboards. This is about training awareness. Pattern recognition. Self-honesty. Accountability. 

In the area I am in, players are doing countless hours of skill work.  And, I am starting to wonder if the over-emphasis on skill development at a young age is encumbering hockey IQ development.  For example, players may not need to think at the U8 and U10 level because they have a short-term skill advantage over other players (one that erodes as they matriculate through U12, U14 etc).  

Hockey IQ vs. Cognitive IQ — What Coaches Need to Understand

One of the most revealing insights that came from these conversations was this: hockey IQ isn’t distributed equally, just like cognitive IQ. Some players naturally process information faster, read plays more intuitively, and make better decisions under pressure.

But just like with academic intelligence, hockey IQ isn’t fixed.

A kid who holds onto the puck too long may not be selfish — they might simply be struggling to read the game in real time. That doesn’t mean they can’t contribute. If they’re passionate, coachable, and held accountable, they can develop awareness, improve pattern recognition, and become a smarter, more impactful player.  We hope our daily/weekly problem solving scenarios will help those players.

The takeaway? Coaches need to understand that not every player sees the ice the same way — and that’s okay. Our job isn’t just to drill skills, but to teach thinking. To build hockey intelligence just like you’d develop any other form of problem-solving.

Patience. Guidance. Accountability.

With those in place, even a player who’s not the fastest thinker can still become one of the smartest players on the ice.

A heartfelt thank you to all the hockey minds who generously shared their time, stories, and insights to help shape this framework. I might be the one putting words to it, but the real structure — the bones of this model — comes from those who’ve lived it at the highest levels.

Find. A. Way.

— Greg

Related: Mental Training for Youth Hockey Players — how focus and mental rehearsal work alongside Hockey IQ development.

See all resources: Hockey Parents Resource Guide

The post The Unifying Theory in Defining Hockey IQ first appeared on Grit Kore.

Here’s the formula:

Multiply by 100 if you want to get fancy with a percentage. If that number is below 100%, we may need to rethink how much they truly love the game, or how much of their journey is being swallowed up by structure.

Why It Matters

Passion isn’t built in 60-minute slots or passed down like eye color. It’s personal, deeply personal, and it shows up when no one’s watching. It’s those hours spent by choice out on a frozen pond in minus-10 weather, refusing to come back inside asking for 5 more minutes. It’s mimicking plays from game clips at bedtime. It’s organizing garage tournaments with friends and neighborhood kids, just for the love of it. That’s where the roots of passion grow. Without those moments, the structure becomes a cage instead of a ladder.

A Personal Check-In

I’ll be real with you—one of my kids gave me a gut-check on this. A few years ago, I had my oldest son (12 at the time) in the commitment of two practices and two games a week. He’d been playing hockey since he was 5, and it was the thing we did on weekends. It was our family’s commitment. He/we enjoyed the game. It was fun for him on many levels, seeing his friends, spending time with the team, traveling to fun places like Lake Placid.

But at some point, I started realizing he looked tired—not just physically, but mentally. I did the math: he had zero hours of unstructured practice. He wasn’t interested in free skates at the outdoor rink or shooting pucks in the driveway. He wasn’t reenacting NHL plays or watching highlights with that spark in his eyes when his favorite player scored a goal.

What did that tell me? Passion Score? Zero point zero. There was no Passion Score for hockey.

When it was time to go to practice, I was attuned enough to see the slightest sigh and shoulder drop. So, we backed off. Gave him room. Encouraged him to quit after the season.

You know what happened? Giving him the freedom and space to reevaluate his interests, he dove headfirst into physics, European history, and chemistry on his own time. That’s where his Passion Score was off the charts. That was his “driveway in minus-10 weather” moment. Just in a different arena.

Passion Can Be Found at Any Age

Your child is not too old to switch sports, try something new, or shift gears completely. Take it from Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs All-Star Mike Komisarek. While many of his later teammates and friends had a seven-year head start, Mike spent his early years exploring multiple sports. He didn’t even lace up a pair of skates until he was 12 years old. And once he found hockey? His Passion Index—and the mountain of extra practice he put in—helped him close that gap and then some.

We featured Mike’s story in one of our Illustrated books, Komo’s Grit Engine. It perfectly captures what we believe: it’s never too late to get fired up if the fire is real.

Grit Starts Here

We talk a lot about grit around here. Passion, commitment, and a “Find A Way” mentality. Those three ingredients are the base of everything. And stories from the pros prove it time and time again. You think they got there by only showing up when there was a whistle and a clipboard?

So ask yourself: What’s your kid’s Passion Score? And if it’s low, maybe it’s time to let them fall in love with the game again—or something else entirely.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

The post The Passion Index – Is Your Kid Really Into It? The Passion Score Tells the Story first appeared on Grit Kore.