This story initially appeared on Behind the Whistle, the official blog of the IWLCA, and is being republished with permission from the organization. Amy Martin is the associate head coach at Niagara University.
We have all heard it before: “Coaches wear many hats.”
We are career counselors, tutors, editors, listeners, travel agents, caterers, mental health advocates, van drivers. Some of us play the role of geek squad, and sometimes we need to be Excel wizards ballin’ on a budget. In 2021, we played the role of global health experts, bus and room coordination experts and quick draws on our hand-held thermometers. This year, I have been lucky enough to frequently play the role of crowd control to our bench to keep their celebrations contained to the sideline and not the field.
In watching our most recent game, something at the very end caught my eye, and it definitely wasn’t my lack of wingspan holding our sideline back as they inched towards the field to celebrate a huge comeback victory. Nope, it was the way our backup goalie beelined to our starting goalie and celebrated the win with her; they smiled and laughed together as they joyfully walked back to the huddle. This image got me thinking about a hat (or helmet) no one wants to wear: backup goalie.
Goalkeepers are a unique breed as it is, labeled the weird kids, the wild ones, who are just crazy enough to step in front of a hard rubber ball so it doesn’t go in a net that is always going to be bigger than we are. Constantly hearing the refrain from our field player counterparts, “I could never do what you do,” but as our special position group knows, there’s something unique about our job. Our secret island getaway in our crease, “goalie world,” as it’s commonly called, is sometimes the quietest, most peaceful place in the entire world. Our job? Simple. Stop the little yellow ball from going in the big orange square, but what is not simple is the role itself. There’s one of us. One of us plays. One, two, or sometimes three of us don’t, and if you’re a backup and you get time, it’s usually limited minutes or when s**t is really hitting the fan, and the expectation is you go in and do your best to clean up the mess. Sounds fun, huh?
If you were the backup, it would be easy to hate the starter, right? To see her as the enemy, as the one who plays over you, who you are constantly competing with, for reps, for attention, for saves. It would be easy to not want to be friends with the starter or the other backups. It would be easy for everyone just to be on their very own island, doing their own thing, waiting for their turn. How could you possibly be someone’s biggest competitor AND someone’s biggest supporter?
Well, here’s the other thing that’s weird about goalies; on a goalie island that flourishes and helps the team succeed, that’s not how it is.
We need each other to thrive, and as a starter, there’s no one more vital to your success than your backup.
The truth is that no one knows how it feels to be a goalie except your fellow helmet heads. No one knows the sting of a ball on the inside of your leg on a cold day. No one else truly knows what to say between quarters to pump you up or calm you down. No one else cheers louder for you on an eight-meter free position than a fellow goalie. No one else knows what it feels like to immediately want the ball back when you make a bad clear, or what it feels like to get smoked in the face with the best shooter’s shot, or even what it’s like to be pulled at your weakest moment.
When I see our goalies, Michelle and Maren, who not only play the same position, but are both seniors, I see them as each other’s biggest competitors and biggest supporters. I see them both succeed because of the way they each push the other to be the best. I see them both grow because they lift each other up. They make each other laugh. They keep our entire goalie group light. They make each other the best versions of themselves simply by being together. No one is more hyped for Michelle on a big save than Maren, and when it comes down to it, no one supports Michelle like Maren does. Last year in a comeback situation, Michelle got a turf bead stuck in her eyeball (no joke), and Maren went in to lead us to a comeback victory. Who was the first person to Maren at the end of the game? One-eyed Meesh. No one jumped higher or cheered louder that day than Michelle. When things go wrong, there’s no one more important to a starter than her backup.
When I think back on my playing career and the backup goalie I had, I realize how lucky I was. I arrived at Holy Cross (shoutout to you sisterlax) freshman year, and goalie island was an island of one — me and only me. The head coach pulled me aside on Day 1 and said whatever you do, don’t get hurt — you’re all we have. (No pressure at all.) One broken foot later, and they decided one of the field players would be converting to goalie. Sophomore Allison Donovan was an outstanding teammate before this happened, but when she became a goalie, she became the ultimate teammate and the one I measure by to this day.
She learned the position well and got better every single day at practice and never complained about playing time or how much the bruises hurt. But honestly, what she did best was support me. Me. The person who had been recruited to play this position, that played over her for her entire career. She pushed me to believe in myself when I certainly didn’t. She loved me hard when we lost one-goal games or got blown out. She even took me to her family’s house in Maine when I was gut-wrenchingly homesick for my home in Michigan.
Donny was my best friend and made me feel like the coolest person in the whole room. She was the only person I would let near me when my high school coach passed away my junior year. She was the reason I was confident in my skills and in myself because she always motivated me to be my best. I played bigger and better than I thought I could because I simply did not want to let her down. When a concussion sidelined me, or I played so poorly I got pulled, it was simply not an option to feel sorry for myself because it was my job to cheer louder and harder than anyone else for her. I was incredibly lucky to have such a friend in my corner — my biggest fan, my biggest motivator.
While it might make it sound like these relationships are commonplace, they take a lot of work and require goalies to drop any sort of ego at the crease. These relationships require a team-first mentality and LOTS of positive reinforcement. As coaches, I encourage you to normalize the goalie position as a unit and foster these positive relationships. Encourage the competition and feed the compassion, because within the ecosystem of a team and over the course of the journey that is a season, you will not only need your starter, but you will also need your backups.
Even though backup can be viewed as the least desirable hat to wear, I can assure you it is certainly an important one.