MY STORY

I grew up playing house hockey in Michigan.

I wasn’t the kid everyone talked about. I wasn’t the superstar or the phenom. At 10 years old, I finally made a travel AA team and thought I was starting to figure things out. I played a few years of AA and met some lifelong friends doing so.

Then I went to a AAA tryout.

And I got absolutely bullied.

I still remember it. Every drill felt too fast. Every player looked stronger, quicker, more confident. I felt completely out of place and honestly embarrassed by how far behind I was.

I drove home that day feeling completely defeated.

But something changed.

That was the moment I decided if I was going to be a hockey player, I needed to commit.

I played AA hockey until high school and eventually made the JV team as a freshman. I remember how proud I was. In my mind, this was it. This was the turning point.

Until varsity tryouts the next year.

I got cut.

And not only did I get cut, I had to play another season of JV as a sophomore.

That one hurt.

I remember sitting with that feeling of defeat. Watching the varsity team skate before we did every day while feeling like I had been left behind. Feeling embarrassed. Questioning myself. Wondering if maybe I just wasn’t good enough.

At that age, your dreams feel fragile.

And mine felt shattered.

I honestly wanted to quit.

Because in my head, there was no chance an NCAA Division I player had ever played JV hockey as a sophomore in high school.

I felt behind. Defeated. Like the dream was slipping away.

But instead of quitting, I went to my driveway.

And that became my sanctuary.

I worked like a horse to get better. I skated with coaches, absorbed everything they taught me, and then went home and replicated it for hours in my driveway. Shot after shot. Rep after rep. Day after day.

No spotlight.

No crowd.

Just me, a bucket of pucks, and a commitment to improve.

Eventually I made varsity team my Junior year and had what I would call a pretty average high school career before moving on to Tier III junior hockey.

But the work never stopped.

I worked like a dog through injury that year and earned a spot in the NAHL the following year. Every summer became an obsession with improvement. While others took breaks, I kept returning to the same place that built me.

My driveway.

During my 20 year old season in the NAHL, I earned a Division I opportunity at Army West Point.

And somewhere along the way, a coach told me something that stuck forever.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to be known as elite at one specific skill?”

That challenged me.

So I became obsessed with learning how to shoot the puck like a rockstar.

Not casually.

Intentionally.

I studied it. Repped it. Refined it. I spent countless hours in my driveway sharpening that skill until it became part of who I was.

That exact habit, discipline, and commitment to consistent training rewarded me with the opportunity to play NCAA Division I hockey, become a 2 time Division-I All-American, and sign an AHL contract out of college. All I did was climb the ladder. Rung after rung I climbed as high as the sport would let me go. 

There was never a secret. When no one wanted to bet on me, I bet on myself. I never set out to prove any person wrong, I always felt like that was a waste of time. All I wanted to do was be able to put my head down at night knowing every day I gave it everything I had to achieve my goals.

The only person I wanted to prove right was myself.

I knew if I put the work in like I did, the chips would fall the way they were supposed to fall.

And I am damn proud of how my career shaped out.