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Primeapple · 05-31-2017, 08:38 PM

(First article. 1027 words)

The Colwick Outlier - The Players Tribune

Thereâ€™s nothing quite like being an outlier. Where Iâ€™m from, anyone who plays anything other than soccer is an outlier. And where Iâ€™m from, no one ever actually leaves. See, Iâ€™m from a little speck on the map called Colwick. Exactly what I thought, youâ€™ve never heard of it. Itâ€™s a village about 30 minutes outside of Nottingham and about 3 hours away from London.

Weâ€™re not even big enough to be considered a real â€œtownâ€ by the legal sense. My village has a population of 2000 people in it. Iâ€™m related to roughly 100 of them, making us 5% of the total people who mill about the countryside on the rare sunny day. The only notable thing that ever happened in this town was when we saw a tour bus drive through after making a wrong turn. People still talk about it and itâ€™s been nearly fifteen years.

Thereâ€™s not even really enough people who know how to skate to play real hockey. Sure some of the other kids will slap a puck around on a pond when itâ€™s freezing, but we didnâ€™t have a team. Or a league. Or enough interest to play on a regular basis. My parents used to wake up at 3am and drive me all over the place to play in the limited leagues available to boys my age. Carlton, Bridgford, Tollerton, Arnold, and pretty much every other city within 30 miles, Iâ€™ve played in every city for every team. But it was my passion. I loved it. I couldnâ€™t get enough. And when my coaches got word that the travel team scouts were starting to come by, I just doubled down on my efforts. I saw it as my chance. My one opportunity to make it in the bigtime. So when I got recruited to start travelling around with a U14 team in Nottingham, I didnâ€™t know what to expect, but I jumped at the opportunity.

My dad drove me to Nottingham and dropped me off at the airport. Two sticks, one suitcase, and one duffle full of gear. Thatâ€™s what I had. My dad gave me a hug goodbye and drove off. Here we go. Thatâ€™s when I met my team. Thatâ€™s when I met our tutor who would be our exchange for traditional school from now one. And thatâ€™s when I got my first taste of a hockey lifestyle. For the next 9 months, this was supposed to be my teammates, friends, and family away from home. Well we were teammates. And coach was basically my new father figure, but friends was a big stretch.

Outlier. Thatâ€™s my word. Thatâ€™s my life. I was an outlier when I left, and I was an outlier when I returned to Colwick. Whatâ€™s more, I was an outlier on my team. They had all been playing together for years and hereâ€™s this farm kid from Colwick who waltzes in and gets thrown onto the top line. That definitely doesnâ€™t make friends. And it certainly didnâ€™t help that every summer I would go back to Colwick while the rest of the team stayed together in Nottingham to hang out all summer.

I wish I could explain how strange it was coming back every summer. During the off-season while all my old friends were helping their families in the fields, I was training. Running, lifting, swimming. Anything I could do to keep my strength and endurance up. Not because I was particularly dedicated at that age, but because I was disconnected. I didnâ€™t have anyone to talk to about anything. I became the kid who used to live in Colwick. Now Iâ€™m just visiting. Like I said, no one leaves our village. I just didnâ€™t fit in anymore. I had left. I was a stranger. An outlier.

So I pretty much lived outside the sphere of friends until our first playoff run in 2014. Coach pulled my linemates and me aside and basically said no more outliers. He forced us to spend the bus rides, the hotel rooms, and all of our free time together. To say our play improved is an understatement. Coach taught me how terrible it can be to have an outlier on the team. You need to have that cohesion. We made it all the way to the championship that year. By the time that final game rolled around we didnâ€™t even have to look to know where to pass. We just knew. And thatâ€™s what happens in this game. You get close. You gain instinct. And you learn to trust it. Your teammate will be there for the pass. Your center will know to when you're about to go streaking through the crease.

We won that championship. Back in 2014. And we won it again in 15. And 16. And we just finished our last tournament together in 17. And here I am, with the opportunity to be an outlier again. Iâ€™ve declared for the draft. The SMJHL prospect draft. What every person on my team has been gunning for and working for the past 12 years of our lives. But I made it. I got the invite. And I declared. Iâ€™m going to do it. Iâ€™m going to be the outlier and not just leave Colwick, not just leave Nottingham, but Iâ€™m going to leave England.

Thereâ€™s one last tournament before the draft. St. Louis, Missouri. S35 SMJHL Prospect Showcase. And you know what? Everyone at that tournament is going to be an outlier. And Iâ€™m sure that every prospect will say the same thing about their experience. Being an outlier makes you strong. Being an outlier makes you smart. And being an outlier makes you a top prospect. Every single player in this tournament was the best on their team. But now weâ€™re all on the same ice. And itâ€™s the best against the best. But someone has to rise above. Someone has to do something special. Someone has to be the outlier and break through. So when you watch the tournament on Friday, pay special attention to the outliers. Iâ€™m sure the scouts will.

Chuck Bernstein / Outlier