Parent to parent: Keeping hockey's costs in perspective

With all the money spent on equipment, registration, and tournaments, and despite all the dreams of greatness, hockey is temporary for most young athletes, even those chasing the elusive professional dream.

"For 99.9% of people who put their kid in hockey, their last day of hockey will be because they got cut from something," says Grant Point, whose three sons played minor hockey in the early 2000s.

Inevitably, that day is a sad one. "When hockey stops for you, something you love just stops, and you can't do it anymore. That's a tough one," says Dennis Bonvie, who played professional hockey in the AHL and NHL for 15 seasons.

It's not that hockey isn't a lifelong sport, but playing in recreational leagues as an adult won't occupy the same place it does in a young person's life. And because of that, many young hockey players striving to advance up the ladder become overwhelmed, especially as they realize how unlikely a pro career is. Burnout came calling after college hockey for 33-year-old Andrew Hamilton.

"I thought hockey was everything, and that's what I wanted to do," Hamilton remembers. "Obviously, it's every kid's dream to go play in the National Hockey League. You almost get to a certain point where you realize how hard it is, and then you even realize how hard it is to even play professional hockey at any level."

On that last day of chasing the dream, many parents will tally the cost of their child's minor hockey career, and some will wonder if it was worth it. "I would challenge people to look really deeply at what they're spending and what the end game is," Point says. "Ask a simple question, 'Is what I'm doing actually the right thing?' I think what most people realize later on in life, they'll look back and go, 'Jesus, I spent a lot of money on that.'"

"People have an unrealistic expectation of what this game is going to give them back in return," Point adds. That's what he's trying to change.

The hockey investment fallacy

As far as hockey parents go, Point is living the dream. His son Brayden is a two-time Stanley Cup winner for the Tampa Bay Lightning; his eight-year, $76-million contract is in the top 20 of total value in the league. Point also has two other sons who played hockey. His oldest, Riley, played post-secondary hockey in Canada for Red Deer College and Mount Royal University. His youngest, Kade, still plays rec hockey in Calgary, where the family grew up. Point is still involved in minor hockey, coaching upcoming athletes and advising teams on skill development.

"I have an understanding of all the ways you could travel through hockey," Point says. "I've seen all levels of this. I would be willing to say that maybe the guy who's had the most enjoyment - pure laughs and giggles and fun - might be my youngest guy who went the rec way."

Point has become increasingly concerned about the amount of money and pressure he sees in hockey today, even in the youngest age groups. He still remembers when the biggest question was whether or not to buy a composite stick.

"My son Riley won (a composite stick) in a raffle, and that was the biggest deal of all time because there was no way anyone here was buying a Synergy stick for anybody," Point says. "At the time, I was thinking to myself, these sticks are a fortune. They were $150 or something when they came out. Now, those same sticks are $500, and every kid, from tyke up, has one."

Today's parents aren't merely shelling out for sticks. They're paying for camps, showcases, academies, private coaches, cross-training, nutrition - the list could be endless. Hockey has always been expensive, but many parents have felt squeezed in recent years. "Does anybody who's under 100 pounds need a high-end composite stick that they can't even flex? No, they don't, but they get them because they think if they don't, they're at a disadvantage," Point says.

The arms race goes beyond equipment. "I always get the same questions, 'Do I need an agent? Do I need a skills coach? Do I need a mental coach?' They're mortgaging their houses to put kids in their academies," Point adds. "I just think it's so unnecessary."

Even calling minor hockey an investment rankles Point. "When we're talking about how many kids are actually going to make a living playing sports, the percentage is so small that what you're putting into it, you're never getting out of it," he says.

Most parents know that. Still, it doesn't stop them from wanting to give their kids the opportunity to try. "It's because they want to give them every chance to succeed," Point says. "They feel that if they do everything in their power to get them there, even if my kid doesn't get there, then I'll feel good about myself."

What a lot of parents might not understand is that many of the bells and whistles that purportedly give young hockey players the best advantage won't move the needle the way parents are led to believe. "It has just become such a money grab," Point says, and he's not the only person in the hockey world who feels that way.

"For the general person, you either need to have somebody pushing for you or be really good," says Bonvie, now director of pro scouting for the Boston Bruins. "Otherwise, you're just an average commodity, (but) people see the dollar signs coming."

There's no advantage money can buy that compares to innate athletic ability - some children have it, and some don't. "Most kids will tell you with their instincts and their skating and their hockey legs - you'll see something special," Bonvie says. Even then, having those skills in minor hockey might not count for much down the road. "There's still a lot of things that have got to come to full growth - skating, size, strength, ability."

Bonvie has also been alarmed by the increased pressure on parents to pay for all the extras in hockey. "A lot of times it's not a lot of common sense going into it. I don't think you've got to be chasing every showcase."

When he coached his son's teams in minor hockey, Bonvie often irked parents by bringing his practical approach to the rink. "I'd always tell parents - we're going to have a hell of a time. I'm going to teach your kid to be a better kid. Your kid will become a better player, and we will make friendships along the way. If you're in for something different than that, please shake my hand and go somewhere else.'"

Every opportunity, without breaking the bank

Spending money judiciously in hockey doesn't have to mean limiting opportunities for aspiring minor hockey players.

"You can give them every opportunity in the world without breaking the bank," Point says. When Brayden was in minor hockey, Point watched instructional videos, split ice time with a group of like-minded parents, and took a DIY approach to hockey development. "We did everything we could to get on the ice as much as possible for as cheap as possible," he says. "The development came from just his love of the game and just playing all the time."

It's an experience that aligns with that of another hockey parent, Jim Roque, whose daughter Abby won silver for Team USA at the 2022 Beijing Olympics and plays for the PWHL's New York Sirens. "What's important is cheap ice where kids get together, try things, lean on other players, figure out how to get around people," he says.

"Just because you're skilled doesn't mean you're going to make it. There's a lot more to the game: figuring out how to play, navigate and reading plays. There's so much pressure on these parents that they think they have to do all these extra things for their player to get noticed. They're so worried about the other kid doing more. That's not the right attitude to have," Roque adds.

When his daughter was playing at the minor level, Roque, who coached NCAA hockey and now works in pro scouting for the Maple Leafs, encouraged her to try many sports and develop a well-rounded athletic skill set. "It's really frustrating. Parents ask me all the time what I did with Abby, and when I tell them, they say, 'There's no way you did that. That wouldn't work now.' But you can. I wouldn't do anything different," he says.

Roque believes parents shouldn't have anxiety about their child's talent potentially getting overlooked. "The world is so small now, as far as knowing what's going on, if you're a good player, you're going to get noticed, evaluated, and recruited," he says.

Scouts, agents, and team front offices are watching - it's their job to find talent. True athleticism doesn't need fancy equipment or expensive showcases to flourish. "Parents chase it continuously because they feel like they're missing out," says Minnesota Wild assistant general manager Chris Kelleher, who rose through the organization's pro scouting department after his playing career ended. "That's where they get into playing all summer long, then playing the fall program. Then, 12-year-olds are traveling across the country to go play in a tournament against random teams. I'm not sure that's necessary," he adds. "They feel like if they miss one tournament, then they're going to be behind."

Lead with a love of the game

Hockey probably won't lead to a glorious career for most athletes. However, with the right approach, a love of the game can live far beyond the dreams of playing at the highest level.

Hamilton's pursuit of the dream carried the added weight of a family legacy. His dad is Edmonton Oilers original Al Hamilton, who played with the team in the World Hockey Association from 1972-79 and in the club's first NHL campaign in 1979-80. "A lot of pressure came with that growing up, and it almost became that hockey wasn't fun anymore - you kind of lose your purpose," Hamilton remembers. He gave up an opportunity to play semi-professional hockey and instead started a career in the trades, rarely lacing up his skates.

"Being in my dad's shadow - it's a lot of pressure. But what he told me and my brother is that there's no pressure from his side. He said, 'I'll be proud of you no matter what you do with your life.' And he told me, 'Hockey is not everything.'"

Hamilton stepped away from the ice for years until an opportunity to play in the Australian Ice Hockey League came together, and that passion for hockey found its way back to the surface.

"I realized I had that burning desire to play again and have fun. It's amazing what you can do with no pressure on yourself and just going out and enjoying it," Hamilton says. Playing hockey in Australia might not have been the version of professional hockey he envisioned as a youngster, but it was an unexpected opportunity to explore the world and only available to him because he recovered his childhood enthusiasm for the sport. "The love of the game will never go away, no matter how old you get," he says.

That's what Point wishes more parents in the throes of minor hockey would internalize. "Just have your kid play with passion and enjoy it," he says. "You don't need to have the best skills coach in the world when you're 11 years old. Just get them out there. Get them playing, having a good time. Watch them work their ass off and laugh.

"When your son's on a breakaway and scores a goal, he looks up to you in the stands. Is he thinking, 'Gee, this sucks. I wish I was tiered higher?' No, he's happy to score the goal, and that's what we lose sight of. It's a kid's game," Point says.

And when it comes to investment, Point knows one thing that is worth it: "If you want to invest anything into your kids, invest the time."

Jolene Latimer is a feature writer at theScore.