@BBWALL531@_lukeoutbelow@CLEsportsTalk Thought same thing and had to watch a couple times. I think the bunt was a replay, he says take a look back. Lost it sometime after the bunt attempt.
@EmilyCWaldon Know this about Max. Night before graduation for Max my son played against him. Stands were packed. Storms delayed game several times, went extras & ended after midnight. Yet Max stayed longer & signed autographs for anyone that stayed. Class dude with a big heart.
@Seth_3773 Yes! My son headed to college ball so been around travel for about 10 years. In that decade, I have heard a lot of things but never anyone wanting lighter bats. Of all the things to address, i’m confused as to why they chose to address this.
Great teams don’t make excuses. They make adjustments.
No…
“Yeah, but the refs…” “Yeah, but they’re more talented…” “Yeah, but we were tired…”
Accountability starts when the excuses stop.
Rod Brind'Amour shares the one question every competitor and great teammate needs to ask themselves.
"You just gotta ask yourself one question all the time - are you doing your part?"
"Whatever it is. It's not going right. Okay. Are you doing everything you can every day to make it right?"
"If the answer is yes - stick with it. Then stick with it. It'll either turn or it won't. But you can at least know there's nothing more you can do. Feel good about that."
It's about giving your best all the time.
Then he made it personal:
"Are you doing everything you can to be the best player you can be?"
"You'll know if you're not."
That's the question. Simple. Honest. And no hiding from it.
You can't control the outcome.
You can only control the effort and how you show up.
(🎥 The Grind Performance Podcast )
Forty years in this game. Here is what I have learned about the families who navigate it best.
They are not the ones with the biggest budgets. They are not the ones with the most connections. They are the ones who decided early that this is a forty-year decision, and started behaving accordingly.
They turn down the showcase that does not fit the plan. They pass on the travel team that promises exposure for a price. They put their son in front of honest evaluators instead of marketing departments.
They are not chasing baseball. They are building a man who happens to play it.
The trophy is the relationship you have with your son when he is thirty.
@CoachBeede Play in the right tournaments. A vast majority of players end up at schools in their state or a surrounding state. Unless your player is very elite, only going to national tournaments greatly limits exposure for your player.
If you’re graduating high school and heading off to play college baseball - you better show up in the best shape of your life, and you better not be rusty.
You’ll be playing scrimmage games within a couple weeks of getting to campus. College coaches don’t care, just play better.
Too many kids are taking the summer before showing up to college off. In many cases, you’re setting yourself up for failure. You signed up to be a college athlete - you don’t get to do what normal students do anymore.
KIDS: Nic Dowd is from Alabama. Went to Culver Military Academy. Played in the NAHL then USHL. Went to college as a 20 year old freshman. Played four years at St. Cloud. Spent a couple full years in the AHL before being an NHL regular as a depth player.
Now on the ice taking the faceoff in the Western Conference Finals up a goal in the Dzone with Jack Eichel and Mitch Marner on his wings.
Everyone has a different path. And if your path is the long way, be a great teammate and a versatile player. Dowd is widely known as an unreal locker room glue guy. And a great role player.
What an effort to score this goal beating everyone up the ice to seal it for Vegas. This is why I love watching the playoffs. Players who don't normally get the spotlight stepping up in big situations to help teams win.
Hockey rules.
In 1973, a struggling 28-year-old actor walked into a casting office in Los Angeles with just $32 in his bank account.
His name was Henry Winkler.
He had been in California for less than a year, and he was auditioning for a tiny role on a new sitcom called Happy Days.
There was just one problem:
Henry Winkler could barely read the script.
Not because he lacked intelligence.
Because he had severe dyslexia though at the time, nobody knew it.
Growing up, teachers called him lazy.
Classmates laughed at him.
Even his parents referred to him as “dumb dog” in German because they thought he simply wasn’t trying hard enough.
He spent most of his childhood believing he was stupid.
By the time he became an actor, he had already developed survival strategies.
He memorized lines by hearing them once.
He listened carefully to rhythm, tone, and cadence.
He arrived early to auditions so another actor could quietly read the scene aloud to him first.
Then he’d walk into the room and perform it as though he had studied it for days.
That day in 1973, producers handed him a few lines for a minor character named Arthur Fonzarelli.
The role was supposed to be small.
A side character.
Comic relief.
Henry listened once.
Then he transformed the character completely.
The producers stopped auditioning other actors almost immediately.
Within two years, “The Fonz” became one of the most famous characters in America.
Kids copied his thumbs-up gesture.
People dressed like him for Halloween.
His leather jacket eventually ended up in the Smithsonian.
The actor who had spent his childhood being told he was stupid became one of the most beloved stars on television.
But Henry Winkler still didn’t know why reading had always been so hard for him.
That realization came years later through his stepson.
When his 8-year-old stepson was diagnosed with dyslexia, doctors began describing the symptoms.
Henry suddenly went quiet.
Every symptom matched his own childhood exactly.
Later, he said he went home and cried.
Not from relief.
From grief.
Grief for the little boy who had spent decades believing he was broken.
The teachers who dismissed him.
The humiliation of reading aloud.
The feeling that everyone else had received instructions for life that he somehow missed.
And then he decided something important:
No child should grow up believing that about themselves.
In 2003, Henry Winkler began writing children’s books.
He partnered with author Lin Oliver because he still struggled to write and spell fluently himself.
Together, they created Hank Zipzer — a funny, kind-hearted boy with dyslexia who constantly gets into trouble at school despite trying his best.
The character was based directly on Henry’s childhood.
The books slowly became a phenomenon.
Teachers recommended them.
Parents passed them around.
Libraries filled their shelves with them.
Today there are more than 40 Hank Zipzer books, translated into multiple languages and read by millions of children around the world.
For many struggling readers, they became the first chapter books they ever finished on their own.
But Henry didn’t stop with the books.
For years, he has visited schools and youth centers speaking directly to children with learning disabilities.
Often for free.
He tells them something he wishes someone had told him when he was young:
“How you learn has nothing to do with how smart you are.”
That message matters because so many children with dyslexia grow up thinking they’re failing at life, when in reality they’re simply learning differently.
Henry Winkler is now celebrated as an actor, author, producer, and Emmy winner.
But one of the most remarkable parts of his story is this:
A man who spent decades believing he was unintelligent ended up writing books that helped millions of children feel understood.
And somewhere today, a child who thinks they are “slow” is opening one of those books for the first time.
KIDS: This is Jakub Dobes' journey.
At 18 years old, he was playing 18u AAA and Missouri high school hockey.
He made a vow then to @JeffLoVecchio that he was going ALL IN. So much that he sent a screenshot of every meal that he ate to Vechs to make sure his nutrition was on point.
This video gives me chills. Especially knowing the work that went into it with the partnership of Dobey and Vechs.
Everyone has a different path. 18u and Missouri HS hockey at 18 years old.
Seven years later he has the entire Bell Centre in Montreal on its feet.
When you commit to something - really commit to something - it's a powerful, powerful thing.