<p>It’s 90 degrees outside in St. Louis. The humidity is so thick you could chew on it. Step outside and you’re instantly sweating. Yet it’s time for players to get back on the ice in preparation for the upcoming season.</p>



<p>There’s no way around it: during my career, August was my least favorite month. It meant that summer was ending, and I’d soon be packing up to drive cross-country with a trailer in tow.</p>



<p>Truthfully, I hated those informal skates. But I knew that I wouldn’t be at my best for training camp unless I got out and stopped pucks leading up to it.</p>



<p>I found it really hard to get motivated for flow drills and scrimmages when there wasn’t anything on the line. Players are lackadaisical. Defense is nonexistent. And the game turns into nonstop breakaways and odd-man rushes. Basically it was a glorified beer league session. Except professional players can drive a goaltender crazy with their skill level.</p><div class="injected-ad injected-video" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="0" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="160"></div>



<p>From junior hockey until about the midpoint of my pro career, I would skate all summer. Not every day, mind you. But usually twice a week. I thought I needed it to stay sharp. The cardio was good, and I did enjoy being on the ice with friends.</p>



<p>I probably would have kept my summer routine had it not been for a really bad 2010–11 season with the Albany Devils. We finished last in the AHL that year, and the locker room was really fragmented. It was one of the few teams I played for where the chemistry just seemed off. For me, the locker room wasn’t the fun place it had always been.</p>



<p>It was the second consecutive season where the Devils never sent a goalie coach to the AHL, and my numbers ended up looking like a credit card. I was lost on the ice, trying way too hard for my own good. And our team was just flat-out bad.</p><div class="injected-ad" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="1" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="162"></div>



<p>That season was a perfect example of how important a development goalie coach is. My technical game wasn’t far off. But I was pressing. And I needed someone to talk to that was on the same wavelength — someone who could help alleviate the pressure I was putting on myself.</p>



<p>By the end of the year, I was spent both mentally and physically. And with my numbers being so poor, I wasn’t sure that I’d get another contract. There was a real possibility that I might have to go to Europe or start all over again in the ECHL.</p>



<p>So instead of doubling down and training even harder, I drove home to St. Louis and put my gear away.</p>



<p>I needed a break. I’d been going nonstop, year-round for over a decade. And at that point in my life, being on the ice all summer just wasn’t worth it any longer. Hockey wasn’t bringing me the joy it once did.</p><div class="injected-ad" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="2" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="160"></div>



<p>To my surprise, the Ottawa Senators offered me a contract on July 8, 2011. To say it was a lifeline would be an understatement. There’s no way a goaltender like myself with a .886 save percentage the previous season in the AHL should have gotten another chance.</p>



<p>But the Senators needed a goalie partner in Binghamton for Robin Lehner. And for whatever reason, they felt I was the right person for the job. Considering I didn’t have any other offers, I accepted immediately.</p>



<p>I had been training all summer and was pretty happy with where I was at physically. But I still didn’t feel the desire to get back out on the ice. So I stayed away until August.</p>



<p>I went over three months between on-ice sessions. And I still think it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I came back fresh, and my disdain for hockey had been alleviated by a summer free of shinny hockey and the bad habits that come along with it.</p><div class="injected-ad" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="3" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="169"></div>



<p>Don’t get me wrong – I still didn’t find the skates particularly exciting. Or even enjoyable. But practicing for one month sure beats getting plunked by careless shooters over the course of an entire summer. And what I feared — essentially forgetting how to play goalie — didn’t happen. I found out that muscle memory is a pretty amazing thing. And I actually felt more explosive in goal thanks to the training I’d done off the ice.</p>



<p>But no matter how practices are going in August, packing up for the season is just around the corner. And I dreaded it. It took us almost a week to get everything packed and loaded for the cross-country trip — all that done while trying to put the finishing touches on a summer training program.</p><div class="injected-ad" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="4" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="132"></div>



<p>It was a lot. And the older I got, the harder it was to pull away for the season. I always missed my friends and family. And no matter how routine it became to be away from them for the majority of a calendar year, it was never easy.</p>



<p>But that’s the life I lived as a professional hockey player. I wouldn’t change it, and I don’t regret it. Becoming something of a nomad was apparently my destiny.</p>



<p>It’s different now working in the media. I don’t have to skate. I can sit back and relax during August. Write a few pieces. Take a family trip when possible.</p>



<p>But you know what? I’d still hop on the ice for practice if an NHL team asked today. I miss it. Even in August.</p><div class="injected-ad" data-nn-ad-tech-injection-count="5" data-nn-ad-tech-max-gap="130" data-nn-ad-tech-current-gap="132"></div>
