Following an unwelcome sabbatical from coaching last winter, I thankfully returned to the ice and the bench with the Wisconsin Selects for their post-season run at a National Championship in March. Sincere gratitude to Mike Cowan for giving me an opportunity when others would not. It was a welcome and needed refrain from the frustration and anger I have been unable to escape. As Jimmy Buffet said, I felt “like a man just released from indenture.”

On my return I quickly confirmed what I already knew, I desperately missed coaching. With another winter approaching I now understand why some in Wisconsin dread it. They don’t coach hockey. Without it, my winter was a conveyor belt of boredom and anguish.

During my involuntary respite I was fortunate to stay connected to the game and coaching. With my daughters coaching, Elizabeth at Augsburg College, Emily at CFM, my son Theran coaching my grandson’s mite team, former player Nick Freeman in Spooner and the former Storm coaches who shared my pain, I was able to feel involved. I loved every conversation I had with all of them.

As all my children step in and out of the coaching and teaching world, I can’t help but contemplate what is ahead for them. The climate is dramatically different than when I started over forty years ago. We are a long way from Hoosiers’ coach Norman Dale’s famous “What I say when it comes to this basketball team is the law. Absolutely and without discussion.”

It is a job that automatically comes with public criticism, long hours, insufficient pay and considerable family sacrifice. If you coach for any length of time, you will face irate and irrational parents that will invade your life like a disease. I have been called names, endured profanity filled tirades, falsely accused of atrocities, shunned and threatened all in the name of playing time. You quickly learn that playing time is the gold standard and some parents will do anything, and I do mean anything, to get more of it for their child. You will be a genius when you win and an idiot when you don’t, sometimes in the same season. After coaching a player for four years, some parents won’t shake your hand and thank you, choosing instead to shun you for life because you didn’t play their child enough. Players will break your heart by quitting. If you take interest in your players outside the season, some will accuse you of favoritism. If you don’t take interest, then you just don’t care about them as a person. Parents have chastised me for taking notes during the game, quoting Bobby Knight and expecting players to earn their playing time. Wherever you set the bar of expectations, some will see it as too high and others too low. If you are “old-school” your methods are outdated, if you are young, you don’t have enough experience. If you coach to win-at-all-costs you are simply wrong and if you believe in making the game fun, you will be judged as too soft. Your words, actions, practice plans, body language and every decision will be analyzed and critiqued as if you were running for president. I have been told structure and systems are worthless and so are small area games. In a setting that is heavily based upon a scoreboard and winning, you will often feel like you are in a no-win situation.

Sounds awful, but somehow it isn’t.

Here is the good news--despite that lengthy list, the coaching journey is still worth it. And it isn’t because of the moms who bake cookies or even the trophies you may be fortunate enough to collect.

And it isn’t for the dads who buy you a beer and are your best friend until their kid isn’t on the powerplay. It is worth it because all those pitfalls of coaching are caused by a small minority of the players and parents you deal with throughout your career. Every job has its negatives, even your dream job. Ninety-five percent of this job is so fulfilling, rewarding and invigorating that for me those misguided few are an inconvenience and challenge I was willing to endure and embrace.

As wonderful as winning a WIAA state championship and then a USA Hockey National Championship were, it is the struggle, the climb and the perseverance through the tough times that gave me the most pride and satisfaction. The players and the teams have written and starred in the greatest stories of this journey.

The resiliency of my bantam team in Spooner that lost twenty-four games in a row and the ten eligible Rails who took the ice for my first WIAA varsity game in 1992. Watching the perseverance of players like Alex Nowak, Max Hoenisch, Angie Stroik and Shane Turner or the likes of Hailey Piskula, John Hedlund and Ingrid Peterson battle through the physical and emotional toll of significant injuries was inspiring. It was watching the grit and tenacity of Jack McGinnity, Gab du Vair, Adam Bever and Kaydence McGregor. The unselfishness of Anna Ryder and Ashley Zacho to put the team first and the patience and determination of Abby Dhein to the relentless work ethic of Jason Meyers, Josh Spiegel, Cierra Snyder and the Slagowski boys. The pride in the leadership qualities displayed by Markie Ash, Matt Tyree and Nick Freeman. From Shelby Tryba’s infectious attitude, to Tom Romportl’s toughness, to Erin Gruber’s heart, to the competitive fire of Chloe Lemke and Jamie Slattery, to the fluid stride of Matt Michlig, the uncanny scoring ability of Zach Comfort, the puck blocking appetite of Cadie Ash and AJ Mussfeldt and Mike Mansell’s hockey IQ, it has been an education in achievement through work ethic, perseverance and teamwork. I dearly miss it.

This list is truly endless and so are the great memories I cherish, enough to fill a book. Apologies to the players I have omitted, due to space only, from the hundreds of great young men and women I had the opportunity to coach. It is the players that make this job so special, and it is the relationships with them and the unpredictable journey of each season that I miss the most.

I will never be able to fool any of my kids that there isn’t a price you pay for entering the field of coaching or teaching. They have seen it and experienced it firsthand. I spent so much time away from family when my kids were growing up. There is no rewind button, it is time that slips away, and you never get it back.

Coaching has truly been a priceless journey, but it also steals priceless time from your family. Finding coaches who are willing to do this for the long haul is becoming more and more difficult. It is a tale of two journeys, both priceless and both competing for our most valuable commodity—our time.

Would I do it all over again, knowing what I know now? I imagine I would, it’s been in my heart, right from the start.

Dan Bauer is a free-lance writer, retired teacher & hockey coach in Wausau, WI. You can contact him at drbauer13@gmail.com.