One slap shot, and it fell off.
You read that subject line correctly.
I watched a guy lose his ear during a hockey game.
I was playing for the Providence Bruins in the American Hockey League.
One of my teammates laid down to block a shot.
The D-man wound up…
Released an absolute bomb…
And the slap shot caught my buddy right in the ear hole.
And no…
He wasn’t wearing one of those plastic ear protectors you see on some helmets.
His ear was completely exposed.
You heard the CRACK when the puck hit his helmet.
And everyone hoped it had caught plastic.
It didn’t.
Now, I’ll give this guy credit.
He didn’t lay there rolling around on the ice.
He got himself up and came back to the bench.
But when he got there…
Blood was pouring out of the side of his helmet.
Then he took the helmet off.
And I saw one of the grossest things I’ve ever seen in hockey.
His ear had basically fallen off.
And when I say “fallen off,” I don’t mean his ear was laying on the ice somewhere.
I mean the entire outer portion of his ear had torn away and was hanging there by a little piece of skin.
Absolutely disgusting!
They took him into the locker room.
Then to the hospital.
He had surgery to sew his ear back on.
And incredibly, I watched that guy come back and play the next night.
This time?
You better believe he had the plastic ear protector on. That, along with a huge white bandage around his head and ear.
I’ve thought about that moment many times over the years because it reminds me just how savage hockey can be.
This is a hard sport.
There are collisions.
Blocked shots.
Cuts.
Bruises.
Sore muscles.
Bad games.
Long bus rides.
Mental fatigue.
Pressure.
Adversity.
And it’s easy to play hockey when everything feels great.
When your legs are fresh.
When your confidence is high.
When the puck is bouncing your way.
When your body feels good.
But what separates consistent players is what happens when everything isn’t perfect.
Can you still contribute?
Can you still make the simple play?
Can you still compete?
Can you still help your team?
One of the greatest lessons I ever received came from my coach in Providence, Bruce Cassidy.
He told me:
“Bobby, you don’t have to bring your A game every night. But you better bring your B game.”
That stuck with me.
Because nobody has their absolute best stuff every single night.
Some nights, you feel unstoppable.
That’s your A game.
Other nights?
Your legs are heavy.
Your timing feels off.
You’re mentally tired.
You took a hit the night before.
Nothing seems to be clicking.
That’s when consistency matters.
You may not have your A game…
But bring your B game.
Compete.
Get pucks deep.
Finish your routes.
Make the safe play.
Backcheck.
Win your battles.
Do something that helps your team win.
And there’s an important distinction here:
Toughness doesn’t mean ignoring a serious injury.
If something needs medical attention, get it.
Toughness is being able to face adversity, deal with it intelligently, recover, and continue moving toward your goal.
That’s what Cassidy was teaching me.
Consistency.
Resilience.
Professionalism.
So, no pun intended…
Listen up—assuming you still have both ears attached.
Take it from an old hockey player who spent years grinding through professional hockey and eventually made it all the way to the NHL:
You will face adversity.
You’ll have bad games.
You’ll get knocked around.
You’ll have days when you don’t feel like yourself.
Your job isn’t to be perfect every day.
Your job is to keep showing up.
Keep competing.
Keep your eyes on the goal.
Bring the A game when you have it.
And when you don’t?
You better bring the B game.
That’s how toughness is built.
That’s how consistency is built.
And consistent hockey players win hockey games.
Knuckles up,
Bobby Robins, ex hockey pro now motivating players to chase and accomplish their hockey dream
P.S. Toughness isn’t only physical.
There’s a mental toughness that comes from knowing you’ve prepared.
That’s why the extra reps matter.
When practice is over, grab your stick, throw on a Wraparound, grab your Puckaround, and keep working.
Forehand.
Backhand.
Head up.
Feel the puck without staring at it.
Ten minutes at a time.
Hundreds of touches at a time.
Little by little, you’re training your hands until your stick and the puck start to feel like an extension of your body.
And when you’re tired…
When there’s pressure…
When you don’t have your A game…
You can still trust the work you’ve put in.
That’s what preparation gives you.
Grab the Wraparound + Puckaround Combo and build your game one rep at a time →