We’ve all been there.

A tournament 45 minutes outside a third-tier city.
Three-star hotel.
Rink. Lobby. Repeat.
Vacation days disappearing faster than expected.

The parent playdate goes a little too long.
The next morning…the idea of the gym, reading, or anything beyond breathing and blinking feels like a stretch.

A gritless weekend.

And on its own, that’s fine.

But when weekends like this stack up, something subtle happens:

You don’t fall apart…
You just start to drift.

We’ve talked before about how earning grit daily reduces anxiety.

Not because it’s intense—but because it keeps you aligned with yourself.

The challenge is that most of us are years removed from school—the last time structure did that work for us.

Back then:

• practice
• tests
• routines
• expectations

You were guided into growth.

Then that structure disappears.

And you enter a new node.

More freedom.
Fewer constraints.
More choices.

And that’s where the path starts to separate.

Think about it this way:

Your life moves through nodes—new environments, new phases.

Within each node:

• each day is a smaller node
• each decision, a smaller one still

And quietly, those decisions compound.

There’s also something else happening:

You have an idea of who you could be in that environment.
A projected path.

When your daily actions don’t match that path, a gap forms.

The identity gap.

You might not notice it right away.
But you’ll feel it.

As friction.
As low-level anxiety.
As a sense that you’re slightly off.

And here’s the part that matters:

You don’t close that gap all at once.

You close it inside the day.

Tournament weekends are a perfect example.

They’re a new node:

• different environment
• less structure
• more opportunities to drift

So the question isn’t:
“Do I overhaul everything?”

It’s simpler than that.

Can you live inside the node—just a little differently?

• 10 minutes on the treadmill
• a few pages of a book
• a moment to think instead of scroll

Not perfect.
Just intentional.

Because your kids are trying to build something on the ice.

And whether you realize it or not—you are too.

Small decisions.
Repeated.
That’s the path.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

The post The Path of Identity first appeared on Grit Kore.

We’ve all heard it:

“Kids these days aren’t built like we were.”

And honestly… that’s true.

But not for the reason people think.

It’s not that kids are softer.

It’s that they’re growing up in a completely different environment—one we weren’t built for either.

How We Got Here

Go back 150 years.

Your world was small.

• You were the farmer’s kid

• The blacksmith’s kid

• The best (or worst) at something… within a 10-mile radius

And that was enough.

Your identity was:

• local

• stable

• rarely challenged

You didn’t wake up wondering how you compared to the top 1% of humanity.

Then came radio.

Suddenly, you became aware:

“Oh… there are other ways to live.”

But still—your actual competition stayed local.

Then TV showed up.

Now you didn’t just hear about other people—you saw them.

• better athletes

• better looking people

• better lives

Comparison started creeping in.

Then came the internet.

Then social media.

And now?

A 12-year-old kid can compare themselves to:

• the best athlete

• the funniest creator

• the most attractive person

• the richest lifestyle

…all before lunch.

The New Reality

Kids today don’t grow up thinking:

“I might be the best.”

They grow up knowing:

“There are thousands of people better than me.”

Even if that’s just a snapshot in time.

That changes things.

Because it introduces pressure before identity is fully formed.

Social Media and Mental Distress

Now layer this on top:

• constant exposure

• constant comparison

• constant feedback

It’s like getting performance reviews… all day… for your entire life.

Even for things you don’t care about.

That’s exhausting.

What the data shows

Across countries like the U.S., Sweden, and Finland, we see:

• social media use increasing

• mental distress increasing alongside it

Not perfectly.

Not causation.

But directionally—especially in the U.S.—it’s hard to ignore.

The Identity Formula (Simplified)

Here’s the idea in plain English:

Identity grows when kids do real things, consistently, even when it’s hard.

And it slows—or even reverses—when:

• they’re doing things just to be seen

• they don’t actually care about what they’re doing

• they start believing they’re “not good enough”

• they avoid discomfort

If you want the formula:

Identity Growth = (Capability × Real Effort × Tolerance for Discomfort^2)

– (Performing for others + Negative self-perception × Avoidance)

Yeah… it looks like math.

But it’s actually pretty simple:

Do real things + stick with them = growth

Fake it + avoid hard things = drift (or worse)

Where It Goes Wrong

Here’s the subtle trap.

Kids are actually pretty good at just… doing things.

• playing

• trying

• improving

They don’t naturally sit around thinking about their “personal brand.”

But then adults step in.

• “Look at this kid”

• “This is what elite looks like”

• “You need to be here”

Now the activity shifts from:

play → performance

And from:

engagement → signaling

That’s when identity starts to wobble.

Why This Matters

Because over time:

• real engagement builds identity

• performative engagement erodes it

And if perception becomes the main driver?

Kids stop doing things to improve…

and start doing things to be seen.

This Is Where Grit Comes In

Grit isn’t just toughness.

It’s the ability to stay engaged in something real—

even when it’s hard,

even when you’re not the best,

even when the world is telling you to stop.

In today’s environment, grit is what keeps kids building on the left side of the equation—when everything around them is pulling them to the right.

In a world of constant comparison, grit is what keeps a child moving forward anyway.

The Hard Truth

We can’t remove the world they’re growing up in.

They will see:

• better players

• better students

• better everything

But that’s not the real problem.

The problem is:

how much weight we put on that comparison

What Actually Helps

If you look back at the formula, the answer is pretty simple:

Focus on the left side.

• real effort

• consistency

• discomfort

And reduce the weight of:

• perception

• constant evaluation

Simple Reframe

Instead of:

“How do I compare?”

Shift to:

“Did I actually show up today?”

Why This Matters for Mental Health

If you look at the formula, mental distress isn’t random.

It lives on the right side:

• comparing

• signaling

• worrying about how you’re perceived

The more time a child spends there, the more distress builds.

But here’s the important part:

Time spent on the left side crowds out the right.

When kids are:

• engaged

• working at something real

• pushing through difficulty

They’re not stuck thinking about themselves.

They’re just… doing.

Simple way to think about it

You don’t think your way out of mental distress.

You engage your way out of it.

For Parents

For parents, the job is simple—but not easy:

Help your kids fall in love with the left side of the formula.

Because that’s where identity is built.

And it’s also where mental distress starts to fade.

Everything else is noise.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

The post Why Grit Matters first appeared on Grit Kore.

This week felt like a live experiment.

Daryl Jones — a.k.a. Jonesy, a.k.a. the real most interesting man in the world, a.k.a. The Gold Coast’s Most Eligible Bachelor (office hours: M–F 8pm–12am, Sa–Su 9pm) — announced he had “acquired” two major youth hockey organizations.

The language alone — straight out of Harvard Business School — should have been the giveaway.

It wasn’t.

It was congratulated.

It was criticized.

It was shared.

It was believed.

On April Fool’s.

Nearly ⅓ of the youth hockey registration in the northeast had seen the post in less than 24 hours.

That got us thinking:

Do people under pressure accept information faster?

Research suggests yes.

Which leads to a bigger question:

Are we living in a time of elevated anxiety?

Not the sharp, obvious kind — but something quieter.

Ambient anxiety: a persistent, low-level unease that isn’t tied to a specific threat, but subtly shapes how we perceive and respond to the world.

The Grit Kore Anxiety Index

To explore this, we combined market volatility (VIX) with Google search behavior to build the Grit Kore Anxiety Index

What we see:

• A noticeable rise beginning around 2015
• A step-change post-2020
• A new baseline of elevated ambient anxiety

Why this matters

A friend — whose father and brother both played in the NHL — shared something interesting.

Growing up, his mom constantly tracked what other prospects were doing.

Now that their careers are over… she follows politics with the same intensity.

The outlet changed.

The behavior didn’t.

So I asked him:

“Was that awareness helpful?”

His answer:

“No. If anything, it probably made things worse.”

The takeaway

Anxiety doesn’t just exist — it moves.

From hockey… to school… to careers… to politics.

And if we’re not aware of it, it starts to shape:

• how we think
• how we react
• how we parent

The challenge

As parents, coaches, and leaders, we need to recognize:

1. Ambient anxiety is real
2. It influences behavior more than we think
3. We have a choice in how we respond to it

Take time to:

• move your body
• slow your mind
• create space

Because if we don’t…

this ambient anxiety doesn’t just affect us — it transfers to our kids.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

Related: Hockey Tryouts and Your Kid’s Identity — tryout season is when anxiety peaks most. Also read: How to Build Confidence in Youth Hockey. Browse more on the Hockey Parents Resource Guide.

See all resources: Hockey Parents Resource Guide

The post Grit Kore Anxiety Index first appeared on Grit Kore.

A few years ago, that word was grit.

It fit the game perfectly. Hockey is a little grimy. A little chaotic. It rewards the player who keeps going when things aren’t clean.

But when we tried to define grit, it got surprisingly hard.

The more we talked about it, the more vague it became.

Around that same time, we were working on a series of children’s books with former NHL players Matt Moulson and Mike Komisarek—guys who played over a decade of pro hockey, despite taking very unlikely paths to get there.

We spent hours talking with them.

Not about systems. Not about skill.

About how they actually made it.

And a pattern kept showing up.

They all had:

• a deep passion for the game
• an unrelenting commitment to their craft
• a strong sense of accountability

But those things weren’t enough on their own.

What tied everything together was something else:

They could handle discomfort.

They could take failure, pressure, doubt, bad games, setbacks—and keep going anyway.

So we tried to simplify it.

If you think about it structurally:

Grit = DT × P × C × A

Where:

• DT = Discomfort Tolerance
• P = Passion
• C = Commitment
• A = Accountability

The key variable is DT.

Because without it, the rest don’t hold up.

You can be passionate—but quit when it gets hard.

You can be committed—but fade under pressure.

You can be accountable—but get defensive when things go wrong.

Discomfort tolerance is what allows the other traits to actually show up.

The higher it is, the deeper everything else can go.

So if that’s true, the question becomes:

How do we build it?

Not through speeches.

Not through motivation.

But through experience.

• Let kids fail—and let them respond
• Encourage them to chase something difficult
• Remove shortcuts
• Model it ourselves

I used to think we connected because of hockey.

We didn’t.

We connected because we share a higher tolerance for discomfort.

That pulls you closer to reality—

and reality is where better conversations happen.

If we want our kids to grow, we have to let them get uncomfortable.

That’s what brings them closer to reality—where they learn their strengths, their weaknesses, and who they really are.

That’s where they push themselves.

That’s where they grow.

Our job isn’t to make it easier.

It’s to stand beside them while they go through it.

Because the more we protect them from discomfort,

the more we hold them back from developing grit.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

The post Defining Grit first appeared on Grit Kore.

Which raises a strange question.

Why are parents so emotionally invested in something they are not actually participating in?

The players are the ones trying out. Not the parents.

Yet the reactions often suggest something deeper is happening.

To understand it, we have to ask a bigger question:

What is identity?

The Beginning

At the beginning of human history, identity was simple.

We lived in small tribes where survival depended on cooperation. Your place in the group depended on being capable and reliable. If you could contribute, you belonged.

Your identity wasn’t something you announced.

It was something the tribe observed through your actions.

Fast forward a few million years and the world looks very different.

Modern life is large, complex, and often anonymous. Many of us are no longer evaluated daily on whether we can help the tribe hunt, build shelter, or protect the group.

In that environment, it’s easy to feel… a little untethered.

How Identity Actually Forms

Identity doesn’t appear magically. It grows through experience.

It usually follows a cycle that looks something like this:

When we encounter difficulty, we are forced to reflect. Through reflection we learn our strengths and weaknesses. That understanding produces growth, which builds resilience.

And then the cycle repeats.

Over time, that cycle produces something powerful:

a stable sense of self.

Why Failure Matters

If this model is correct, failure is not something to avoid.

It’s actually the starting point of identity development.

Which means the early years of childhood should probably contain plenty of:

• setbacks
• disappointment
• difficult lessons

These experiences are not harmful. They are the raw material of identity.

What We Sometimes See Instead

Watching youth hockey tryouts, however, sometimes reveals a different pattern.

Parents scrambling to move teams.

Parents lobbying for roster spots.

Parents constructing elaborate explanations when outcomes don’t go their way.

Interestingly, the kids themselves often seem relatively unaffected.

Which raises another question:

If the child can tolerate the disappointment, who is the distress really coming from?

When Parents Lose Their Own Identity

A common path in modern life looks something like this:

• We go to school and begin forming our identity.
• We start a career and continue developing it.
• Then we have children.

And something subtle sometimes happens.

Our own identity development slows down or even pauses while we focus entirely on our children.

When that happens, something tempting appears: pre‑packaged identities.

“Hockey family.”

“Travel team parent.”

“Elite program.”

Without realizing it, our sense of self can become tethered to our children’s activities.

When that activity becomes uncertain — like during tryouts — it can feel like our own identity is suddenly under threat.

Why This Matters

The irony is that this behavior can unintentionally interfere with the very thing children need most.

Children build identity the same way adults do:

Through adversity.

When we try to remove every disappointment, protect every outcome, or engineer every path, we may actually be interrupting the cycle that builds resilience.

The Real Opportunity

Youth sports are not just about winning games or making teams.

They are incredible environments for learning:

• effort
• humility
• persistence
• failure
• growth

But that only works if both kids and parents are willing to tolerate the discomfort that comes with it.

The Challenge for Parents

Maybe the real lesson of tryout season isn’t about the kids at all.

Maybe it’s a reminder for parents.

To continue building our own identities.

To tolerate uncertainty.

To let our kids experience adversity.

And perhaps most importantly:

To remember that our children’s journey does not define who we are.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

Related: Hockey Anxiety in Kids — tryouts and anxiety go hand in hand. Also: How to Build Confidence in Youth Hockey. See everything on the Hockey Parents Resource Guide.

See all resources: Hockey Parents Resource Guide

The post Youth Hockey Tryouts and the Question of Identity first appeared on Grit Kore.

From the outside, it looked like I was just waiting for the race to start.
On the inside, I was doing something completely different.

I was calming my mind, controlling my breath, and silently rehearsing every stroke. I didn’t know the term “mental training” yet—but that’s exactly what it was. My coach had simply said:

“Close your eyes and visualize your race.”

That one cue became my first real lesson in how powerful the mind can be under pressure.

What Is Mental Training?

Mental training is any intentional practice that helps you strengthen your mind the way physical training strengthens your body. It can include:

• Visualization – mentally running through skills, plays, or races

• Breath work – using breathing to calm your nervous system and reset

• Self-talk – the way you speak to yourself before, during, and after performance

• Focus training – learning to tune out distractions and stay present

You don’t need to be a pro to benefit from this. Youth athletes, parents, coaches, and even people in high-pressure jobs all perform better when their mental game is strong.

Elite Athletes Do This Too

Most top athletes don’t just train their bodies—they train their minds.

Michael Phelps famously visualized each race before he ever hit the water: every stroke, every turn, every breath. Tennis champions, gymnasts, NHL veterans, and basketball stars do something similar. They use mental training to:

• Handle pressure

• Recover quickly from mistakes

• Stay confident and composed

• Protect their well-being in high-stress environments

“I would probably visualize a month or so in advance, just of what could happen, what I want to happen, and what I don’t want to happen” – Michael Phelps

Mental strength isn’t about being “tough.” It’s about having tools you can rely on when the moment gets big.

Why It Matters for Young Athletes (and Everyone Else)

At Grit Kore, we hear the same concerns again and again:

• Kids feel pressure from school, sports, and social media

• Parents worry about burnout

• Coaches see talented players shut down when things get hard

Mental training gives kids (and adults) a way to handle all of it.

The skills they practice in sports—focus, staying calm, bouncing back—don’t stay on the ice, turf, or pool deck. They show up in:

• Exams and tests

• Tryouts and auditions

• Job interviews and presentations

• Tough conversations and leadership moments

When we teach mental skills early, we’re not just building better athletes. We’re building more resilient humans.

A Simple Reset You Can Use Anywhere

Here’s the good news: mental training doesn’t have to be complicated, expensive, or time-consuming.

You don’t need a personal coach, a fancy app, or hours of silence.
You need about 30 seconds.

Try this simple breathing reset:

• Put your feet on the ground.

• Inhale slowly through your nose for 4 seconds.

• Hold for 2–3 seconds.

• Exhale gently through your mouth for 6 seconds.

• Repeat 3–5 times.

This tiny routine can help:

• Lower stress and anxiety

• Steady your heart rate

• Improve focus and reaction time

• Boost creativity and problem-solving

• Support better sleep and recovery

You can use it on the bench before a shift, in the locker room before a game, at your desk before a test, or in the car before a big conversation.

The Grit Kore Project: Stronger Minds, One Breath at a Time

As part of the Grit Kore Project, our goal is to make mental strength training simple and accessible for athletes, parents, and coaches.

We share:

• Quick breath work routines

• Easy visualization drills

• Practical mindset tools for handling pressure and bouncing back

Mental training doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be practiced.

Balance starts with a single breath. The more we use it, the more we realize that mental strength isn’t just for pros—it’s a daily skill that anyone can build, at any age, in any sport, and in any area of life.

Follow the Grit Kore Project for simple mental strength tips and exercises you can start using today—on the ice, on the field, in the classroom, and beyond.

Find. A. Way.

Anika

Related: What Is Hockey IQ? — understanding game intelligence is the foundation that makes mental training work. Also see the Hockey Parents Resource Guide for more.

See all resources: Hockey Parents Resource Guide

The post Going Into the Zone: The Power of Mental Training first appeared on Grit Kore.

Enter The Grit Kore Project—a free, community-driven initiative created to support youth athletes with daily mental strength exercises, physical workouts, and hockey-specific guidance. More than just a resource, our intention is to build a supportive, inclusive community where young athletes, their families, and mentors come together to develop grit, resilience, and character, building a foundation for life—on and off the ice

What Is the Grit Kore Project?

The Grit Kore Project is a collaborative effort uniting coaches, mental health professionals, athletic trainers, and sports nutritionists. Our mission? To help kids and teens grow stronger—mentally and physically—by giving them tools to develop grit, character, and resilience through consistent, daily practices.

We call it “earning grit”—a mindset that encourages young athletes to work on both their bodies and their minds every single day.

And the best part? It’s completely free.

Why Grit Kore Exists: A Personal Story Behind the Mission

The Grit Kore Project was born from a personal place. After experiencing several tragic losses in our local hockey community—and watching my own children begin their youth hockey journey—I saw firsthand how much the culture had changed.

What used to be a fun, character-building experience led by volunteer coaches has become transactional. Rankings, tryouts, private coaching—it all adds up, financially and emotionally. What was once about love for the game is now about chasing results. And that’s taken a toll on kids and families alike.

The Code—the unwritten values of sport like hard work, respect, integrity, and resilience—is being lost.

We created Grit Kore to defend that Code and bring it back to the center of youth sports.

Free Tools for Athletes: Daily Mental & Physical Workouts

Not every family can afford elite coaching or access to top-tier training. But every kid deserves a shot at success and self-belief.

That’s why we offer:

• Daily mindset exercises to build mental toughness and emotional regulation.
• Strength and conditioning workouts for young athletes at all levels.
• Hockey-specific training tips to grow confidence and improve performance.
• Ongoing encouragement from a community of professionals and mentors who care.

Whether a child is on a travel team or just getting started, Grit Kore gives them the tools to keep showing up, growing stronger, and learning to “Find A Way.”

Join the Movement: Calling All Coaches & Experts

Are you a coach, therapist, nutritionist, or trainer who wants to make a difference in the lives of young athletes?

We’re looking for like-minded professionals to contribute content, design exercises, or share encouragement with our community. If you can help us expand this free resource, we’ll feature your work on our website and social media—and proudly tag and credit you.

Let’s grow this mission together. Let’s build a culture that supports all kids, not just the ones who can pay for it.

Final Thoughts: This Is Our Promise. This Is Grit Kore.

The Grit Kore Project is more than just a free training platform. It’s a movement to bring heart, grit, and values back into youth sports—especially hockey.

We believe in giving kids tools to manage stress, overcome challenges, and become stronger human beings. And we believe in doing it without putting financial pressure on families.

This is our promise. This us. This is Grit Kore.

The post The Grit Kore Project: A Community for Youth Athlete Development, Resilience and Confidence first appeared on Grit Kore.

As a coach and a curious observer, I’m often standing on the edge of the rink watching players skate hard, dig for pucks, and battle—yet the effort levels vary wildly. One kid’s locked in: alert, hungry, fully alive.  Meanwhile, another teammate is floating around aimlessly, only engaging in easy plays.  

Why? Why does one kid show up ready to hunt, and another gathering low lying fruit?

I’ve had the chance to skate and skateboard alongside some of the biggest names in their sports. What sets them apart isn’t just talent or discipline. It’s passion—that hungry little beast inside that pushes them when no one’s watching.

At the Cube in NYC, I once watched Rodney Mullen repeat a 360 kickflip-to-nose-manual-to-nollie heel combo for over an hour. He was already landing it. But he just kept going. The point wasn’t the trick. It was the pursuit of his passion. (watch)

So: if passion is the difference-maker, where does it come from? And why does it run deeper in some kids than others?

Passion Brings Anxiety (And That’s Not a Bad Thing)

The deeper you care, the more you risk—and the more anxiety you’ll feel. That’s not a bug; it’s the fuel. Passion and anxiety are tied together.

Dwyane Wade’s emotional love letter to basketball (click here) says it all. He doesn’t focus on highlights—he talks about heartbreak, rejection, and staying in the game when it felt cruel. That’s passion. It’s raw. It’s vulnerable. And yes, it comes with anxiety.

In hockey terms: when a kid’s getting knocked down in a drill, getting up, and going again—that’s passion meeting failure. If there’s no desire to take on the anxiety of failure, maybe there’s no deep love yet. Or maybe… it’s not safe enough to risk failing.

To help understand this, let’s look at the upward sloping relationship between passion and anxiety.  As passion goes up, there are new levels of anxiety that a person has to accept:

The Key: Unconditional Love First

So where does deep caring come from?

To explore that, I talked with my good friend Scott Moulson (“ScoMo”), father of three elite hockey players—including an NHLer. What struck me most wasn’t his hockey knowledge—it was how he spoke about his kids. With pride. With emotion. With zero mention of stats or scholarships.  Rather, he focused on imparting the Code and pushing effort.

He loves his kids with or without the accomplishments.

That’s the key. That’s the oxygen for passion.

When a kid knows—truly knows—they are loved before the goal, before the win, before the “good game,” they’re free to go all in. To stumble. To fight. To risk everything, knowing they’re safe.

Make It Safe to Care Deeply

If your kid’s effort feels inconsistent, or if they “lack drive,” try asking:

Have I made it safe enough for them to care deeply?

A kid afraid to miss won’t shoot.

But a kid who feels safe, seen, and supported? That’s a kid who’ll take the shot—even if they miss. That’s a kid who stays after practice. Who welcomes and fights through the next level of anxiety.

Don’t get me wrong, there are hard lessons and truths that must be told.  The game is hard.  The game is honest.  And if a player isn’t staying true to the Code, there is a time and place for a harsh reality check (just ask ScoMo about that!)  

But the most important points ScoMo insisted on was his attunement and balancing when the kids needed a push or needed a friend.

Passion doesn’t start on the ice.

It starts at home.

So hug them. Embrace the Code. Celebrate the risk—not just the result.

Find. A. Way.

— Coach Greg

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The post Where Passion Comes From—and Why It Matters on the Ice first appeared on Grit Kore.

Last Saturday at 7 a.m., because apparently that’s when my best ideas strike, I texted a handful of buddies who are retired pros. Between them, they’ve logged about 65 seasons in the Show and/or the A (and seasoned veterans in Hockey Night in Darien!) and if I had to guess, have each practiced taking at least 550k shots in their driveway.

“What does hockey culture mean to you?”

Coffee hadn’t even kicked in yet, but every single answer had the same three pillars:

1. Team over individual.
2. Enjoyment of the grind.
3. Brotherhood/sisterhood.

One answer in particular stopped me cold. My friend Danny New nailed it:

“Hockey culture is the Code. It’s a hyper-alpha group of guys who think about the game 24/7, loving it, persevering through the grind, fighting for each other while staying humble. A brotherhood/sisterhood unique to the locker room. The Code polices itself. There’s a right way and a wrong way, and you know it.

Youth and high school culture can get polluted with the arms race of tryouts, politics, and toxic parent noise. But the real hockey culture? That bond kicks in when you’re on your own, prep, junior, college. Parents out of the picture. You learn to embrace your role, ride the grind, fight for each other. That’s the culture the best men’s league guys carry in our skate, they’re beauties because they went through it.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

The Wave of the Code

Here’s how I think about it: culture isn’t just rules. It’s alive. It’s energy. It’s a wave.

Why do I say it’s alive? Because you can feel it. A pro locker room that has “it,” the air is different. There is a hum, it’s the current of culture flowing through the group.  When a team truly gets the Code, each player plugs into that current. They don’t even need to think about it, it just happens.

A defenseman lays out to block a shot, and the bench erupts. A winger takes a big hit to spring a breakout, and the whole building feeds off it. The teammates feel it, the fans feel it, the energy multiplies. That effort ripples through all the guys on the bench and 30,000+ fans in the arena. Energy compounds. Culture is alive.

Now, let’s imagine what the Code looks like.  Recall from physics the Sin wave: The Code is simple, consistent and predictable.

As players matriculate through seasons, they learn more and more about the order of the Code.  Each small lesson imparted by a coach tethers the player’s frequency closer and closer to the Code.  Looking at this more broadly, let’s imagine what a team of frequencies looks like around the Code:

Notice each player has some deviation around the Code but they are generally synchronized, coalescing around the wave.  The more they work at accepting the Code, the closer they tether until there is perfect harmony or, each player’s energy is perfectly matched with the Code..

But the opposite is just as obvious. One player decides to go rogue, skip backchecks, float for breakaways, pout on the bench, and the tether snaps. Their wave goes off course, and everybody feels it. The energy stutters. The music skips. Suddenly the room feels heavy.

The Code matters at every level. It’s not reserved for the pros on TV. It’s available to every single kid who laces up skates.

The Code in Youth Hockey

So, can the Code exist in youth hockey? Absolutely. But it has an additional layer, it only works if we, as parents and coaches, hold the Code in the same reverence as the guys who get paid to play this game.

If we’re honest about why we want our kids to play hockey, and about where our kids truly are, not where we wish they were, the Code thrives. Honest enough to celebrate the effort of every team member, not just the results. Honest enough to see failure as an opportunity for growth, not as defeat.

The Code isn’t owned by the NHL or college programs. It existed long before youth hockey became a business. With every child who discovers their passion on the ice, the players themselves, those who’ve been through the grind—hold it sacred and pass it along to the next generation.

As parents, we’ve got to ask ourselves: why did we introduce our kids to the game in the first place? For me, it’s not about a scholarship, a draft, friends or a trophy. It’s because of the Code.

Bigger Than Hockey

I’ll leave you with this: hockey culture isn’t just about the game, it’s about the wave. When players move together, selfless and in sync, it becomes more than hockey. It becomes a way of living.

A “me first” mentality creates chaos, not just on the ice, but in families, schools, and communities too. And we chase the synchronized wave, selfless, future-focused, and committed to lifting the next generation (our kids), that’s when the true beauty of this game shines through. And as parents, isn’t that exactly what we want?

This game, our game, gives kids the chance to practice being part of something bigger than themselves. To learn that their effort, attitude, and sacrifice matter. And to carry those lessons far beyond the rink, into the way they live their lives.

Find. A. Way.

Greg

The post The Code: Hockey Culture Explained first appeared on Grit Kore.

If there’s one thing youth hockey teaches us (besides exactly how early your closest coffee shop opens on Sunday morning), it’s that not all ice sheets are created equal. Last weekend we fired up our Grit Kore methodology, dove headfirst into six youth games, and came out with data, sweat, and a few raised eyebrows. Turns out, how big the rink is might just change who actually gets to touch the puck. So refill that coffee mug, it’s about to get stat-nerdy and parent-relatable.  

Setting the Stage: What We Measured

• We tracked two PW Major elite teams and two high-level Mite Major teams, playing on full ice sheets, with the former playing two games on an Olympic-sized rink.
• All data collection was done off the bench, no in-game distractions, just pure observation (from the stands / LiveBarn).
• We computed Grit Scores per player, then analyzed the distributions (average, spread, etc.).

Here’s what jumped out:

• The full-ice Mite team actually had a higher average Grit Score than the elite squad.
• But, here’s the kicker, the spread (std dev) in the full-ice Mite game was more than double that of the elite team.
• The half-ice Mite team’s spread was much tighter, closer to the elite team’s dispersion.

Interpretation: Why the Spread (Standard Deviation) Matters

If you’re revisiting your stats class, standard deviation (SD) tells us how spread out the scores are around the mean. A high Standard Deviation means “some players dominate, some barely register.” A low SD suggests more equitable contributions across the roster. So what does our data imply?

1. Full-ice Mite = wide spread A few energetic kids got tons of touches (and grit), while others received less. The distribution is skewed: some players shine, many fade.
2. Half‑ice = more egalitarian The constraints of less space force more consistent participation. More kids get involved, more regularly.
3. Elite level = tighter dispersion At higher levels, the playing field levels itself out. Better training, more trust, and more even playing time may shrink variance,  players “earn their grit” more uniformly.

That’s exactly why the standard deviation for full-ice Mite Major is over DOUBLE that of the elite team.  

Why This Matters to You (the Parent / Coach / Fan)

• Playing time & development Young kids thrive when they feel valuable. In a full-ice setting, weaker or less aggressive players may get buried under variance. A half-ice structure ensures more balanced opportunity for touches, builds confidence, and fosters development.
• Motivation & grit culture If the goal is “earn 10–15% more grit daily,” you want each player to sense that daily struggle matters. Tightening variance helps more kids believe they can improve.
• Variety is key While full ice gives the authentic experience (locker rooms, officiating structure, emulation of pro hockey), sprinkling in half-ice games or practice drills can help reduce dispersion and let the “quiet contributors” grow.

Hypothesis for the Future

As kids mature and gain more experience, I’d bet that standard deviation shrinks further (adjusted for playing time). In other words, by the time they’re in Bantam or Midget, more players are contributing similarly, and the variance gap between full-ice and scaled-down games narrows.  

Coaching Takeaways (For Teams, Coaches & Parents)

• Track Grit Scores (or any touch metric) regularly to spot persistent “silent zones” — players who rarely get a touch.
• Celebrating small contributions — reinforcing “every touch counts” helps those on the lower end of the curve.

Final Word: Find. A. Way.

At Grit Kore, our mission is to help kids see themselves on the ice, feel their growth, and earn that extra grit every day. Ice size is more than just a logistics decision, it changes the shape of who plays. Let’s mix it up,  full ice, half ice, small area, and give every kid a chance to lean in, push harder, and find their way.

FIND. A. WAY.

Greg

The post The Standard Deviation Shift: How Ice Size Changes Who Touches the Puck first appeared on Grit Kore.