“You don’t have to want it less. You have to learn how to want it without losing yourself in the wanting.

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink — a practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player, writer, and mentor — here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

After more than a year away from the ice, I’m back playing professional hockey.

Welcome to Season Two of The Inner Rink. The Inner Rink - LIVE.

Season One was about building the foundation.

Learning to RESET when things get chaotic. Finding our RHYTHM when the pressure starts building. Trusting ourselves through FLOW. And understanding MASTERY - when our mind, body, and identity stop fighting each other.

We explored what it means to become a Total Teammate. And eventually, a PlayerMaker.

But there’s something about all that work.

It’s one thing to understand it. It’s another thing to live it.

And that’s where Season Two begins.

Not with a story from years ago. Not with an experience I’ve already had time to make sense of. But with something I’m living right now. A return to professional hockey.

New city.

New team.

New opportunity.

And a whole lot happening inside the Inner Rink. This season, we’re bringing the practices into the experience itself.

The good moments.

The difficult ones.

The uncertainty.

The emotions.

The lessons we don’t always recognize until we’re right in the middle of them.

The Inner Rink isn’t something we only practice when things get difficult. It’s something we carry into everything we do. And what better place to begin than training camp?

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

Leaving Home

There’s a part of professional hockey that doesn’t show up on a stat sheet.

The leaving. Packing your belongings.

Saying goodbye to the people and places that make you feel like yourself. Getting in the car and heading somewhere that hasn’t become home yet.

This season brought me to Baton Rouge LA, and an opportunity with the Baton Rouge KingFish.

New surroundings.

New teammates.

New coaches.

A new locker room.

Even though I have been through this process before, there’s something about starting over that always makes you look inward. You leave behind what’s familiar. But you bring with you everything that you’ve become.

The experiences.

The lessons.

The confidence.

The doubts.

The work nobody else saw.

And somewhere between leaving home and walking into that new locker room, you realize something. You aren’t starting from nothing.

The environment might be new. But the person entering it has been preparing for this moment for years. And this time, that experience mattered more than ever.

A Year Away From the Ice

There was another part of this training camp that made it different for me.

I hadn’t skated in over a year. Haven’t really been a part of a pro hockey team in two years. 2 major injuries that led to surgeries that kept me out of the game for over another year prior to all of that. Overcoming a drug addiction that should’ve probably killed me. The list goes on.

I’ve spent most of my life playing hockey. It’s something I’ve done for so long that, at times, it feels like an extension of who I am.

But now I was stepping back into a professional hockey environment after more than a year away from the ice. And there’s a lot that comes with that.

The physical side is one thing.

Getting your legs back.

Finding your timing.

Getting comfortable with the puck.

Adjusting to the speed.

But then there's everything happening inside your head.

The expectations. The comparisons.

The memories of the player you were.

The uncertainty about the player you are right now.

And that familiar temptation to try to make everything happen immediately.

That’s where my own Inner Rink came into play.

I wasn’t just trying to make a hockey team. I was returning to something that had been such a big influence in my life. But you can’t make up for over a year away from the ice in one practice. You can’t force your timing back. You can’t rush your way into FLOW. And you certainly can’t think your way into becoming the player you remember being. You have to allow yourself to return.

One practice.

One drill.

One shift.

One day at a time.

I didn’t need to prove that I was still the player I used to be. I needed to give myself the opportunity to discover the player I am now.

And I wasn’t the only one navigating that kind of internal pressure.

The Tryout Within

Training camp is an interesting environment. Everybody arrives with a story.

Some players are returning. Some are rookies and trying to earn their first professional contract. Others are trying to prove they still belong.

Different backgrounds. Different expectations.

The same limited number of roster spots. And everybody knows it.

You’re trying to become part of a team while competing with the very people you’re trying to become teammates with. You’re trying to show the coaches what you can do.

Learn systems.

Understand expectations.

Make a good first impression.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, you’re still trying to just play hockey. The game you’ve spent your entire life learning to love.

The moment you start trying to become the player you think everyone wants, you risk forgetting the player you actually are.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t adjust. And It definitely doesn’t mean you shouldn’t compete.

It means there’s a difference between adapting your game and abandoning your identity.

A coach might ask you to play a different role.

A system might require different habits.

A team might need something you haven’t been asked to provide before. That’s professional hockey.

Growth requires adjustment. But adjustment doesn’t have to mean losing yourself.

Sometimes the greatest confidence you can bring into a tryout is knowing exactly what you offer while remaining willing to learn.

A couple conversations during camp made me think about that even more.

When Wanting It Becomes the Problem

I had multiple players come up to me throughout camp and start talking about how badly they wanted to make the team.

How much they wanted to be there. How they would do anything to earn a spot. And I could tell they meant it. And part of me felt the same way as them.

They weren’t necessarily asking me for advice. The conversations flowed organically and it felt like they just needed someone to talk to.

Someone who understood what they were going through. And I did. Because I’ve been there.

I’ve wanted opportunities so badly that I started thinking more about what I needed to do to get them than what I actually needed to do to play my game.

But as I listened to these players, something stood out to me. Something that I’ve experienced myself as well.

I started wondering whether the very thing they wanted so badly could become the thing that made it harder for them to get.

Not because they didn’t deserve it.

Not because they weren’t good enough.

And not because wanting something badly is wrong.

Sometimes we become so attached to an outcome that we stop allowing ourselves to experience the process.

We start overthinking. Overanalyzing.

Trying to say the right things.

Trying to do what we think the coaches want.

Trying to become the player we believe the organization is looking for.

And somewhere between all of that…

We forget to just be the player we already are.

We all want to be accepted. We want the coaches to believe in us. We want our teammates to respect us. We want to feel like we belong.

But what happens when that desire for acceptance starts controlling how we show up? What happens when we’re so concerned about earning a spot that we stop trusting the very qualities that brought us to camp in the first place?

That’s when the tryout becomes something more than a competition on ice.

It becomes a competition inside our own minds.

The Tryout Within.

And while I was recognizing that possibility in the players around me, I had to keep recognizing it in myself.

Join The Captain's Circle

Returning to My Identity

Here’s something that made this training camp different from the ones I’ve experienced before.

I wasn’t just returning to professional hockey after more than a year away from the ice. I was returning with a different understanding of who I am.

I’m a PlayerMaker.

It doesn’t mean I don’t experience doubt.

It doesn’t mean every shift feels perfect.

It doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated when my timing is off or when things aren’t coming together as quickly as I’d like.

I still have my own Inner Rink.

My own noise.

My own expectations.

My own moments when I start thinking too much instead of just playing. But there’s something I keep coming back to when those blockages show up.

My identity.

Because I know the player I am.

I know what I bring to a locker room.

I know the teammate I can be.

And I know that none of those things disappear because I haven’t skated in over a year.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do. Of course I do.

I have to get my timing back.

Find my legs. My hockey lungs.

Adjust to the speed. Learn the systems.

Earn the trust of my coaches and teammates.

But I don’t have to earn my identity all over again. That’s already been built.

And that’s one of the biggest lessons I’ve taken from Season One of The Inner Rink.

RESET helps me recognize when I’m getting caught in my own head.

RHYTHM helps me return to my tempo instead of rushing to make up for lost time.

FLOW reminds me to trust my instincts and let the game come to me.

MASTERY reminds me that who I am doesn’t have to change with every shift.

Being a PlayerMaker gives all that work a purpose beyond myself. Because even when my own game isn’t exactly where I want it to be, I can still make somebody else’s game better.

I can still bring energy.

I can still encourage a teammate.

I can still listen.

I can still recognize when somebody else is dealing with the same pressure I’m feeling.

That’s what stood out to me when those players started opening up about how badly they wanted to make the team.

I understood them.

I was navigating my own version of that same pressure.

But I also had something to return to.

Not a guaranteed roster spot.

Not a promise that everything would work out.

An identity that didn’t depend on either one.

Maybe that’s what being a PlayerMaker really looks like when the game gets difficult. Not being the person who never experiences doubt. But being the person who know how to return to themselves when doubt appears.

The Difference Between Earning It and Forcing It

There’s a difference between working for something and forcing something.

Working for it means preparing.

Competing. Listening.

Learning. Making adjustments.

Giving everything you have.

Forcing it is different. Forcing it is when your attention moves away from the game and toward the outcome.

When every shift becomes an audition. Every conversation becomes an opportunity to impress. Every mistake becomes evidence that you might not belong. And every other player becomes someone you have to beat just to feel secure.

That’s exhausting. And it can take you further away from the version of yourself that performs best.

Here’s something that I’ve learned.

You don’t have to become somebody else to give yourself the best opportunity to succeed.

You can learn a coach’s system without losing your instincts.

You can accept a different role without losing your identity.

You can compete against other players without losing your ability to be a good teammate. And you can want a roster spot more than anything without allowing that roster spot to determine how you feel about yourself.

That’s not a lack of ambition. That’s learning how to compete without internal resistance.

That’s MASTERY. And it brings me back to something we’ve practiced before.

FLOW > FORCE

Trust your preparation. Trust your instinct.

Trust the work you’ve already put in. And when the opportunity comes, let yourself play.

That doesn’t mean standing around waiting for something to happen. It means doing everything within your control and allowing the outcome to unfold without constantly fighting it in your head.

Be yourself.

Believe in yourself.

Let your game speak.

Understand that sometimes an opportunity isn’t the right fit. That doesn't automatically mean you failed. It doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough. It just means that particular opportunity didn’t come together.

You can be disappointed.

You can learn from it.

You can keep chasing the dream.

But you don’t have to lose yourself trying to convince someone else that you belong. Sometimes the hardest reminder of that comes from watching what happens to the people around you.

When the Opportunity Becomes Bigger Than You

There’s another part of this training camp experience that I’ve been thinking about.

One of the players who was one of the key reasons that I decided to come to Baton Rouge in the first place ended up getting released at the end of camp.

Think about that. Someone who played a huge part in bringing me toward this opportunity was no longer going to be part of it.

That’s professional hockey. It’s a business.

There are roster spots to fill.

Decisions to be made.

Different roles.

Different expectations.

Sometimes those decisions don’t go the way we hoped. But understanding how the business works doesn’t mean there aren’t emotions attached to it.

These aren’t just names on a roster. They’re people.

People who packed their bags. Left home.

Believed in an opportunity. Showed up ready to compete. And wanted to be there just as badly as anybody else.

Everybody is living their own story.

Not everybody’s story is going to unfold the same way.

I came into camp thinking about my own opportunity. My own return to hockey. My own Inner Rink. But this experience reminded me that the game has never been just about me.

Someone else’s disappointment doesn’t make my own opportunity more valuable. And my opportunity doesn’t make their disappointment any less real.

Both things can exist at the same time.

I can be grateful for where I am and still care about somebody who isn’t here anymore.

I can continue chasing my own goals and still recognize the role another person played in helping me get here.

That’s where the Total Teammate and PlayerMaker identities came back into focus.

Being a teammate doesn’t stop mattering when somebody is no longer wearing the same jersey and being a PlayerMaker isn’t about having the perfect thing to say when someone is going through something difficult.

Sometimes it’s just about remembering them.

Recognizing what they contributed.

Being there if they need somebody and understanding that their value was never limited to whether they made this particular team.

A roster decision can change someone’s opportunity. It doesn’t have to change their identity.

More Than One Feeling Can Be True

Here’s another part of this experience that I don’t want to overlook.

I made the team.

After more than a year away from the ice, I came to Baton Rouge, went through training camp, and earned an opportunity to continue playing professional hockey.

I feel gratitude. Love. Joy.

I’m grateful for the opportunity. Grateful for the people who helped get me here. Grateful to be back around the game. And grateful that I get to continue to do something I love.

But at the same time, I felt sadness and anger when a player who played such a big part in bringing me here was released.

I’ve been thinking about how all those emotions can exist together. Because they can.

I can be happy for myself and sad for somebody else.

I can appreciate the opportunity I’ve been given while understanding the disappointment someone else might be experiencing.

I can accept a decision without necessarily liking it.

I can celebrate making the team without forgetting the people who helped me along the way.

One perspective doesn’t have to erase another.

That is something I try to practice throughout my life. Seeing as many different angles as possible.

Not just the one that benefit me.

Not just the one that scares me.

Not just the one I wish were true.

All of them.

Every situation has more to it than what we’re experiencing personally.

Sometimes the most important thing we can do is recognize that our perspective isn’t the only one that exists.

Being a PlayerMaker doesn’t mean seeing everything positively. It means being willing to see things clearly, from more than one perspective, without abandoning your identity.

That perspective is something I try to bring into decisions before I even know how they’re going to turn out.

Choosing an Outcome Without Forcing It

Something I’ve learned throughout my years in professional hockey is that before making a big decision, I try to consider as many possible outcomes as I can.

The ones I want.

The ones I don’t want.

And the ones I might not even be thinking about yet.

Not because I can predict the future. But because I want to be prepared to experience it.

Before coming to Baton Rouge, I knew there were different possibilities.

I could make the team.

I could get released.

I could play well.

I could struggle.

I could find exactly what I was looking for or, I could discover that the opportunity wasn’t the right fit.

After considering those possibilities, I came back to something familiar.

My identity.

Who am I?

What do I believe in?

What do I want?

What kind of person am I going to be throughout this process?

And from there, I chose the outcome I wanted most.

I wanted to return to professional hockey. I wanted to make this team. I wanted to contribute and I wanted to do it while remaining true to myself.

So I committed myself to that direction.

I prepared. I competed. I showed up.

But I didn’t need to force every moment to unfold exactly how I imagined.

Choosing an outcome and controlling an outcome are two different things.

I can choose how I prepare. I can’t control every decision a coach makes.

I can choose to be a Total Teammate. I can’t guarantee every teammate will still be there after camp.

I can choose to approach this season as a PlayerMaker but that doesn’t mean everything will unfold exactly as I pictured it.

I can choose my direction without controlling the destination.

When something happens that I didn’t want, I can feel whatever comes with it.

Sadness. Anger.

Disappointment. Acceptance.

Gratitude. Love. Joy.

I don’t have to pretend those feelings aren’t there. I can acknowledge them without allowing them to decide who I become. And I don’t have to force one to remain the other.

The Practice

This practice is about pursuing meaningful opportunities without losing yourself in the outcome. Whether you’re trying to make a hockey team, starting a new job, moving somewhere unfamiliar, or making a difficult life decision, the process is the same.

1. SEE - Consider the Possibilities

   Before entering a new situation, take a moment to consider the realistic outcomes.

   What do I want to happen? What else could happen? What might I learn if things don’t go as planned?

   The goal isn’t to predict everything. It’s to recognize that more than one outcome is possible.

2. BE - Return to Your Identity

   Before deciding how to move forward, ask yourself:

   Who am I? What do I value? What kind of person do I want to be throughout this experience? What qualities can I bring regardless of the outcome?

   Remember that your circumstances can change without requiring your identity to change with them.

3. CHOOSE - Commit to your direction

   Identity the outcome you want most. Be intentional about it.

   Prepare. Compete. Learn. Adapt.

   Take responsibility for what you can influence. Wanting something deeply isn’t he problem. Losing yourself in the wanting is where the Inner Rink work begins.

4. ALLOW - Act Without Forcing

   Once you’ve committed to your direction, practice returning your attention to the present.

   The next shift. The next conversation. The next decision. The next opportunity to contribute.

   Let go of the need to control how every moment is received or evaluated. And when the outcome arrives, give yourself permission to experience the emotions that come with it.

   You don’t have to like every outcome. You don’t have to pretend everything happens for a reason (I truly believe it does).

   You can accept what happened, learn what you can, and decide how to move forward.

SEE. BE. CHOOSE. ALLOW

Not a guarantee of success. Just a way to pursue it without losing yourself.

Jessica’s Perspective - The Psychology of Wanting Without Forcing

There’s an important psychological distinction between wanting an outcome and becoming attached to it.

Wanting something gives us direction. It motivates preparation, effort, and commitment.

But when our sense of identity becomes dependent on achieving that outcome, the experience can change.

Instead of responding to the moment, we start anticipating what might happen next. Instead of trusting our preparation, we may begin trying to consciously control things that normally happen more naturally.

This is especially relevant in performance environments like training camp. Athletes are being evaluated. Roster spots are limited. The outcome matters.

The desire to belong can become intertwined with the fear of rejection. That combination can create internal pressure even when an athlete is physically prepared.

The pressure itself isn’t necessarily the problem. Our relationship with that pressure matters.

When we interpret every mistake as evidence that we don’t belong, we give individual moments more meaning than they deserve.

When we recognize a mistake as information, we create room to respond, adjust, and continue.

That is where identity becomes important.

A stable sense of identity can provide a reference point when circumstances change.

It doesn’t eliminate disappointment. It doesn’t guarantee confidence or remove the need to adapt. But it can help us separate what happened from who we are.

There’s another psychological element in this experience worth recognizing.

Emotional complexity.

Making the team can bring gratitude, joy, relief, and excitement. Watching someone who helped make that opportunity possible get released can bring sadness, anger, and disappointment.

Those emotions don’t cancel eachother out. They reflect different parts of the same experience. Allowing ourselves to recognize more than one feeling can help us develop a more complete understanding of what’s happening.

Acceptance doesn’t require approval. Gratitude doesn’t require ignoring disappointment. Confidence doesn’t require pretending that uncertainty doesn't exist.

Psychological flexibility is the ability to remain connected to our values while responding to changing circumstances.

We can acknowledge what we’re feeling without allowing every feeling to determine our next action. We can pursue an outcome without making our identity dependent on it. And we can consider different perspectives without abandoning our own.

The goal isn’t to stop wanting. It’s to remain ourselves while pursuing what matters.

This is where preparation meets trust. Where effort meets acceptance and where the work inside The Inner Rink becomes something we can carry into life beyond the game.

☀️Beyond The Rink

You don’t have to be a professional hockey player to understand this experience.

Maybe you’re starting a new job. Moving somewhere unfamiliar. Trying to earn a promotion. Joining a new group. Returning to something you haven’t done in years. Or making a decision that could change the direction of your life.

There’s a natural temptation to become whoever you think the new environment wants you to be. To say the right things. Act the right way. Make the right impression. And while growth sometimes requires us to change, it shouldn’t require us to disappear.

Bring your experience.

Bring your values.

Bring your willingness to learn.

Give yourself permission to be new at something without treating yourself like you’re starting over as a person.

You can pursue an opportunity with everything you have.

You can accept that other outcomes are possible.

You can feel gratitude when things work out and disappointment when they don’t.

You can belong somewhere new without becoming someone else.

Leave a comment

🧠Reader Reflection

Think about an opportunity, challenge, or decision you’re currently navigating.

Ask yourself:

• Am I pursuing what I want, or am I trying to force an outcome?

• What thoughts or expectations are creating blockages inside my Inner Rink?

• Who am I when things aren’t going the way I hoped?

• Can I recognize more than one perspective without losing my own?

• How can I contribute to the people around me while pursuing my goals?

• What would it look like to trust myself and allow the process to unfold?

And one final question:

Can I remain true to who I am, even when I don’t know how the story ends?

Final Thoughts - Season Two Begins

I came to Baton Rouge after more than a year away from the ice.

I left home.

Entered a new locker room.

Met new teammates.

Competed for an opportunity.

Experienced my own doubts and expectations.

Listened to other players navigate theirs.

And watched someone who helped bring me here get released.

Through it all, I kept coming back to the same thing. My identity.

I’m a PlayerMaker.

And now, having made the team, I feel an incredible amount of gratitude for the opportunity to continue doing something I love. But I’m also carrying the lessons and emotions that came with getting here.

Making the team doesn’t men every part of the experience went the way I wanted and it doesn’t mean the Inner Rink work is finished.

If anything, it's just beginning.

There will be more challenges. More uncertainty. More opportunities. More moments where I’ll have to return to myself.

This is what Season Two of The Inner Rink is about.

Not waiting until the story is over to understand what happened. But practicing while it’s happening.

I didn't come to Baton Rouge knowing what was going to happen. I came knowing who I was going to be.

I know what I want. I know who I am. I don’t have to force one to remain the other.

You don’t have to want it less. You have to learn how to want it without losing yourself in the wanting.

Thats Training Camp: The Tryout Within

That’s The Inner Rink - LIVE

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today.

- Draps

The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

🏆Up Next in The Inner Rink:

Season Two - LIVE

The practices will follow the season as it unfolds.

New teammates. New roles. New challenges. New opportunities. Not after the story is finished.

While it’s happening.

The game continues. So does the practice.

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

The Coolest Player I Never Played With

Subscribe now

Share The Inner Rink

“A PlayerMaker doesn’t just make plays. A PlayerMaker makes people better.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink — a practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player, writer, and mentor — here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

All season, we’ve been working inward. Learning how to interrupt the noise.

• How to regulate when everything speeds up.

• How to trust ourselves enough to stop forcing performance.

• How to become so aligned with who we are that confidence no longer has to be earned every shift.

RESET.

RHYTHM.

FLOW.

MASTERY.

Then we took that work outside of ourselves. We became The Total Teammate.

• The player who doesn’t add chaos to the room.

• The player who can be trusted.

• The player who makes the team more stable simply because they’re part of it.

But there’s one more evolution.

The work you’ve done on yourself has to become bigger than you. Everything you’ve learned has to become something you can give away.

That player has a name inside The Inner Rink.

The PlayerMaker.

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

What is a PlayerMaker?

When you hear the word playmaker, you probably think about offense.

Someone who sees the ice. Creates space.

Finds the open guy. Makes something happen.

But a PlayerMaker is different.

A PlayerMaker doesn’t just create plays. They create players.

They see something in people that those people might not see in themselves yet.

They create confidence. Opportunity.

Belief. Standards.

They make teammates better. They make rooms better.

And eventually, they leave people better.

That’s the difference.

A playmaker changes what happens during the game. A PlayerMaker changes what happens inside people.

The Evolution

Everyone begins as a Player.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

The Player is learning.

Developing. Competing.

• Trying to earn minutes.

• Trying to make the team.

• Trying to prove they belong.

A lot of your attention has to be on yourself.

How am I playing?

What’s my role?

Am I getting enough ice?

What does the coach think of me?

What do I need to do to get better?

Those questions are part of becoming an athlete. But eventually, if you keep growing, something changes. You stop needing every moment to be about you.

You become a Total Teammate.

You learn that your value isn’t limited to production.

• You can stabilize the bench.

• Protect confidence.

• Do the invisible work.

• Make the game easier for the people around you.

The Total Teammate asks:

What does the team need from me?

and then eventually… another shift happens.

You stop thinking only about what the team needs from you and begin thinking about what the people around you could become.

That’s the PlayerMaker.

The Player asks: How do I become better?

The Total Teammate asks: How can I make the team better?

The PlayerMaker asks: Who becomes better because I’m here?

Player.

Total Teammate.

PlayerMaker.

Not titles.

Not awards.

Not something somebody gives you.

A progression in who you become.

You Have To Make Yourself First

Here’s the part that matters. You can’t skip ahead.

You can’t consistently bring calm to other people if you haven’t learned how to regulate yourself. You can’t give someone confidence if your own identity collapses every time you make a mistake. You can’t help somebody through adversity if you’ve never learned how to sit in your own.

You can’t become a PlayerMaker without first doing the work within your own Inner Rink. That’s what this entire season has been about.

RESET taught you to interrupt the reaction. To create space between what happens and what you do next.

RHYTHM taught you to regulate your tempo. To understand that you don’t have to move at the speed of the pressure around you.

FLOW taught you to trust. To stop forcing the game and allow preparation to become performance.

MASTERY brought everything together. Mind. Body. Identity. No longer fighting one another.

And the Total Teammate showed us what happens when that stability enters the room.

Now comes the final step.

Give it away.

The calm you built? Give it away. The confidence you found? Give it away. The lessons you learned the hard way? Give them away. The belief someone once gave you? Give it to somebody else.

That’s how a PlayerMaker is built.

What Most Players Miss

Sports naturally teach us to measure ourselves.

• Goals.

• Assists.

• Points.

• Minutes.

• Contracts.

• Awards.

• Wins.

• Losses.

We know exactly where we stand because there’s almost always a number telling us.

But some of the greatest impacts you’ll ever have can’t be measured that way.

There’s no stat for restoring a teammate’s confidence. No assist for saying exactly what someone needed to hear after a bad game. No plus-minus for changing the energy of a room. No award for showing a younger player how to carry himself. No box score for believing in someone before they believe in themselves.

But those moments matter.

Sometimes more than the ones everybody sees.

Because eventually statistics disappear.

Seasons end.

Teams change.

Careers end.

But people remember how you affected them.

Join The Captain's Circle

The PlayerMaker Sees More

One of the greatest abilities a PlayerMaker develops is the ability to see beyond the moment.

A teammate is struggling. Most people see bad performance. The PlayerMaker sees someone losing confidence.

A young player is quiet. Most people assume they don’t have much to say. The PlayerMaker sees someone who might not feel like they belong yet.

A teammate makes a mistake. Most people see the mistake. The PlayerMaker sees the person who has to take the next shift.

That’s awareness. And that awareness changes how you lead.

Instead of asking: What did they do wrong?

You start asking: What do they need right now?

• Maybe they need accountability.

• Maybe they need encouragement.

• Maybe they need honesty.

• Maybe they need space.

• Maybe they need somebody to look at them and say: I still trust you.

A PlayerMaker doesn’t treat everyone the same. They learn to see people.

Leadership Without The Title

You don’t need a letter on your jersey to become a PlayerMaker.

You don’t need to be the oldest player.

You don’t need to give speeches.

You don’t need everyone looking at you.

Some of the most influential people you’ll ever meet barely announce themselves.

They simply understand the moment.

They know when to speak.

• When to listen.

• When to challenge.

• When to encourage.

• When to create.

• When to stabilize.

And sometimes…

when to get out of the way.

It’s called leadership without ego.

The goal isn’t: How do I get everyone to follow me?

It’s: How do I help everyone become more of themselves?

That’s a completely different kind of leadership.

Jessica’s Perspective — The Psychology of Elevation

Human beings don’t perform in isolation.

We constantly read the people around us.

• Their body language.

• Tone.

• Confidence.

• Stress.

• Belief.

Whether we realize it or not, our internal states influence the environments we enter. That’s part of what makes teams so powerful. And so fragile.

Confidence can spread. Fear can spread. Composure can spread.

So can doubt. (tip:doubt your doubts)

The PlayerMaker understands that their internal state doesn’t end with them. The more regulated and secure they become, the more capacity they have to support someone else without absorbing that persons emotions or trying to control them.

That’s an important distinction.

• Making someone better doesn’t mean fixing them.

• It doesn’t mean carrying them.

• And it doesn’t mean making them dependent on you.

Real influence creates more independence. You help someone access what was already inside them.

• Sometimes through encouragement.

• Sometimes through accountability.

• Sometimes simply through your presence.

The best leaders don’t create copies of themselves.

They help other people become more fully themselves.

The Practice

Becoming a PlayerMaker isn’t something you announce. It’s something you practice.

Start here.

1. See Someone

   Pick one person today.

   Not their stats.

   Not their mistakes.

   Not their role.

   Them.

   Pay attention.

   Where might they need confidence?

   Direction?

   Accountability?

   Or simply someone who believes in them?

   Don’t immediately try to fix anything.

   First, learn to see them.

2. Give Something Away

   Maybe it’s something you learned.

   Maybe it’s encouragement.

   Maybe it’s an opportunity.

   Maybe it’s confidence.

   Maybe it’s five minutes of your time.

   Take something the game, or life, gave you and intentionally give it to somebody else.

3. Make It Specific

   Don’t just say: “Good job.”

   Tell them what you saw.

   “That was a great read.”

   “ I noticed how hard you competed there.”

   “ Keep doing that. That’s your game.”

   Specific belief gives people something they can actually hold on to.

4. Create An Opportunity

   Sometimes making somebody better means giving them room.

   Pass them the puck.

   Ask what they think.

   Let them lead.

   Give them responsibility.

A PlayerMaker doesn’t need to be at the center of every moment. Sometimes leadership means creating the moment for somebody else.

5. Leave Something Behind

Before you leave the rink today, ask:

Who became better because I was here?

You might not always know the answer. That’s okay.

The point is to start living in a way where the question matters.

The PlayerMaker Code

A PlayerMaker follows a simple code:

• Make yourself first.

• See the person beyond the performance.

• Give confidence without creating dependence.

• Challenge people without diminishing them.

• Share what you’ve learned.

• Create opportunity for others.

• Protect the standard without protecting your ego.

• Know when to speak, listen, challenge, encourage — or get out of the way.

• Leave people and places better than you found them.

The goal isn’t to make people more like you.

The goal is to help people become more fully themselves.

Reader Reflection

Think about someone who helped make you.

A coach.

A teammate.

A parent.

A teacher.

A friend.

Someone who something in you before you fully saw it yourself.

What did they give you?

Confidence?

Opportunity?

Honesty?

Patience?

Belief?

Now turn the question around.

Who am I becoming that person for?

Who trusts themselves more because they know me?

Who believes a little bit bigger because I believed first?

Who becomes more confident when I’m around?

Who might someday look back and realize that something I said, did, or modeled changed their direction?

And maybe the most important question of this entire practice:

Who becomes better because I’m here?

☀️Beyond The Rink

You don’t need skates to become a PlayerMaker.

• Parents can be PlayerMakers.

• Coaches can be PlayerMakers.

• Teachers can be PlayerMakers.

• Leaders can be PlayerMakers.

• Friends can be PlayerMakers.

• Mentors can be PlayerMakers.

Because eventually, the game ends.

The locker room gets quiet. The gear gets put away.

Someone else wears your number.

Eventually, the ice melts for everyone. But the ability to see people, believe in them, challenge them, and help them become more fully themselves goes with you.

The arena changes. The practice doesn't.

Sometimes the most important thing you’ll ever give another person isn’t an answer. It’s belief. The belief that they’re capable of becoming something they haven’t learned to see in themselves yet.

And sometimes, years later, they become that person. Maybe they even give that belief to somebody else.

That’s when influence becomes legacy.

Season One

This season started with one idea: Train your mind like you train your body.

So we practiced.

1. RESET taught us to come back to ourselves.

2. RHYTHM taught us to regulate the tempo.

3. FLOW taught us to stop forcing performance.

4. MASTERY taught us what happens when preparation, confidence, and identity stop fighting one another.

Those practices gave us tools. But the tools were always meant to become something.

1. We began as the Player.

Learning. Competing. Becoming.

2. Then we became the Total Teammate.

Someone others could trust. Someone who could stabilize the environment instead of adding to its chaos.

3. And now… the PlayerMaker.

Someone who takes everything they’ve built inside themselves and uses it to make the people around them better.

PLAYER → TOTAL TEAMMATE → PLAYERMAKER

The work started within. Then it entered the room. Now it reaches somebody else.

The Between Shifts practices gave us the tools. The 3 Inner Rink identities show us what those tools can become.

Season One may be complete. But the real practice is living it.

Leave a comment

🧠Final Thoughts

When I started the Inner Rink, I wanted to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

But maybe that’s what this whole season has really been about.

Becoming that person. For yourself first. Then for your teammates. And eventually…

for somebody coming behind you.

You don’t have to change everybody. You don’t need a platform. You don’t need a title. You don’t need anyone to know you did it.

Just make one person better. Then another. And another.

The greatest thing the game can give you might not be the player you became. It might be the ability to help someone else become who they’re capable of becoming.

So keep making yourself. Then give it away.

The calm.

The confidence.

The lessons.

The belief.

Because maybe one day, somebody will look back on their life and realize… you were the person who saw something in them before they could see it themselves. And maybe they’ll do the same for somebody else.

That’s bigger than a stat.

Bigger than a game.

Bigger than a career.

A PlayerMaker doesn’t just make plays. A PlayerMaker makes people better.

That’s The PlayerMaker.

That’s The Inner Rink.

Thank yourself for showing up to practice.

Season One complete.

— Joe Drapluk

The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Where This Fits

Between Shifts trained the inner skills:

RESET → RHYTHM → FLOW → MASTERY

The Inner Rink identity evolves through:

PLAYER → TOTAL TEAMMATE → PLAYERMAKER

Train within. Stabilize the room. Elevate the people around you.

🏆Up Next in The Inner Rink:

Season One is complete. But The Inner Rink isnt. This season was about building the foundation.

RESET → RHYTHM → FLOW → MASTERY (skill)

PLAYER → TOTAL TEAMMATE → PLAYERMAKER (identity)

We trained the Inner Rink. Now it’s time to live it.

As a new hockey season begins, so does a new chapter of the Inner Rink. Season two will be different. Less looking back. More from inside the moment.

The pressure. The preparation.

The wins. The losses.

The uncertainty. The lessons you don’t get until you’re actually living them.

I’ll be stepping back onto the ice this season- and bringing The Inner Rink with me. Not after the story is finished. While it’s happening.

The Inner Rink Season Two — Coming Soon! (10/04/2026)

The game continues. So does the practice.

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

The Coolest Player I Never Played With

Subscribe now

Share The Inner Rink

“FLOW is a state.

MASTERY is an identity.

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a philosophy centered around the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

Between Shifts is a mental conditioning system inside The Inner Rink.

RESET interrupts chaos.

RHYTHM regulates tempo.

FLOW allows performance.

But MASTERY is different.

MASTERY is when your mind, body, and identity stop arguing with each other.

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

What MASTERY Is

MASTERY is identity without internal resistance.

It’s when:

• your preparation is trusted.

• your confidence stops depending on performance.

• your mind stops fighting your instincts.

• your identity stays stable under pressure.

FLOW is a state you enter.

MASTERY is who you become.

Becoming The Player I Believed In

There was a point in my pro career where I felt caught between versions of myself.

Different teams.

Different roles.

Different expectations.

Trades.

Pressure.

Noise.

Part of me knew who I could become. But another part of me was still trying to prove it.

I was trying to be myself instead of just being myself.

And when you’re stuck in that space…

you play tight.

Not physically.

Internally.

Then Something Started Changing

When I got traded from Macon to Peoria, things slowly started aligning.

Not Immediately.

At first, I wasn’t that player.

But over time, I grew.

I became a better player, skill-wise.

I found myself inside a winning culture.

I played for a coach I deeply respected- someone who taught me things I genuinely didn’t know before.

And little by little…

I started becoming more myself.

MASTERY > PERFORMANCE

Performance can be temporary.

Mastery is repeatable.

Performance depends on emotion.

Mastery depends on identity.

Performance wants validation.

Mastery remains steady without it.

Performance tries to prove.

Mastery simply expresses.

THE ALIGNMENT

As playoffs got closer, I could feel something happening internally.

Not hype.

Not ego.

Clarity.

My conditioning was the best it had been in years.

Mentally, I was clear.

No distractions.

No identity battles.

No trying to prove myself to people who already misunderstood me.

Everything had finally aligned.

And for the first time in a long time… everyone saw me the same way I saw myself

What MASTERY Actually Felt Like

Nothing could shake me.

I was flowing.

But deeper than that…

I trusted myself completely.

Not just my skill.

My identity.

I was becoming the same kind of player I was when I was 12 years old - when I was one of the best players in the country.

Not because I was flashy.

Because I was fully myself.

Humble.

Confident.

Steady.

The kind of player who makes the game feel calm for everyone else.

A Total Teammate becoming a Playermaker.

The Game That Changed Everything

Then came the game I tore my ACL.

Ironically…

it was one of the best games I had played in years.

I scored arguably the nicest goal of my career.

Not flashy.

Just compete.

It reflected how much my game had evolved while still staying true to who I was.

And later in the game…

I took a hit that completely tore my ACL.

But even then…

something inside me stayed steady.

Instead of staying down…

I got up.

Hobbled to the bench.

And seconds after I sat down…

we scored.

The injury didn’t interrupt who I became.

It revealed it.

Check out the highlights from that season here →

The MASTERY Realization

Most people think Mastery means domination.

But real Mastery is quieter than that.

It’s identity stability under pressure.

It’s knowing who you are when:

• things speed up

• pressure rises

• adversity hits

• outcomes become uncertain

MASTERY is when performance stops feeling forced…

and starts feeling like you.

Jessica’s Perspective- Identity Integration

The nervous system performs best when there is internal alignment.

When identity, belief, and behavior conflict, stress increases.

When they align, performance becomes more efficient.

• Less hesitation.

• Less overthinking.

• Less emotional volatility.

This is why Mastery often feels calm.

The mind is no longer fighting itself.

The MASTERY Cue

When pressure rises, ask yourself:

“Am I trying to become someone..or remember who I already am?”

MASTERY begins when identity stops negotiating.

Beyond the Rink

This applies far beyond hockey.

Most people aren’t exhausted from effort.

They’re exhausted from internal conflict.

• Trying to be someone they’re not

• Trying to force outcomes

• Trying to prove something constantly.

But when alignment happens…

energy changes.

Confidence becomes quieter

Presence becomes stronger.

Performance becomes sustainable.

Reader Reflection

Who could you become…

if nothing inside you was fighting against you anymore?

Season One Nears Completion

MASTERY completes the core Between Shifts practices of Season One.

1. RESET.

2. RHYTHM.

3. FLOW.

4. MASTERY.

Together, these practices form the foundation of the Between Shifts Mental Conditioning System- a system designed to train awareness, regulation, identity, and performance under pressure.

We have one more practice to finish off season one, The PlayerMaker, coming soon!

As Season One comes to a close, The Inner Rink will begin turning these practices into physical and digital conditioning practice tools- including the official Between Shifts: Season One Practice Book.

Because these were never meant to be just posts.

They were meant to be practiced.

Train your mind the same way you train your body.

Final Thoughts

For the first time in years… I wasn’t trying to become the player I believed in.

I already was him.

That’s MASTERY.

That’s The Inner Rink.

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today.

- Joe Drapluk

Leave a comment

Share The Inner Rink

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Share

What do you give back to the game… after it’s done giving to you?

I didn’t either.

What's up y’all ! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a weekly practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness—on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

This one’s a little different.

Not a system.

Not a breakdown.

A real moment. Real moments.

Real experiences that taught me real lessons.

Not about hockey, about life.

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

When Everything Slowed Down

I tore my ACL.

And for the first time in my life…

hockey stopped.

Not for a week. Not for a couple games.

For 11 months.

Here’ a clip of the shift I Tore my ACL. We scored a goal two seconds after I made it the bench. If I stay down on the ice, ref blows the whistle, play dead. But I get up, hobble to the bench, coincidentally we score a goal. Think about that. That is The Inner Rink. That’s a PlayerMaker. I didn’t make a sick behind the back sauce pass or snipe bar down. I just got up. I wasn’t even a part of the play that created the goal yet I was a huge part in creating that outcome. That’s a hockey player. I don’t play hockey.

If you’ve ever been injured, you know what that does to you.

You go from moving every day…

to sitting still.

You go from chasing something…

to thinking about everything.

That’s where things start to change

The Question That Changed Everything

During that time, I started asking myself something I had never really thought about before:

How am I going to give back to the game?

Because hockey had already given me everything.

• Discipline.

• Structure.

• Confidence.

Lessons I didn’t even realize I was learning.

But I also knew something else.

When I was done playing…

I was done.

• No coaching.

• No training players.

• No staying around just to stay around.

So that left me with a real question:

If I’m not giving back the traditional way… what does that look like?

Where the Idea Came From

Somewhere in that stillness…

the idea hit me.

What if I could take everything the game taught me…

and turn it into stories?

Not highlights or stats.

But what the game actually teaches you.

That’s where Joe’s Icy Adventure came from.

Building Something I Never Planned

Over the next couple months, I built it out.

Three books.

A full series.

Published on Amazon.

And to be honest…

I never saw myself as an author.

That wasn’t the plan.

But this felt right.

This felt real.

It wasn’t about writing books.

It was about creating something that could reach kids anywhere—

and connect them to the game the way I experienced it.

• Through lessons.

• Through moments.

• Through story.

Then Something Came Back

Months later…

after we won a championship…

another story came back to me.

One I couldn’t ignore.

Trevor.

He never scored a goal.

Never had a shift.

Never stepped on the ice during a game.

But he was one of the most important people in the locker room.

And everyone in that room knew it.

That’s when it hit me:

Some people don’t play the game…

but they change everything about it.

🧠 The Inner Rink Realization

Some of the most important people in hockey…

aren’t the ones scoring goals.

They’re the ones behind the scenes.

• The ones shaping the room.

• The ones stabilizing everything.

• The ones making everyone else better.

That’s an Inner Rink role.

Not assigned.

Chosen.

📖 Where This Turned Into Something Bigger

I couldn’t let that story stay in a locker room.

So I turned it into something a kid could hold.

Something they could grow up with.

📖 The Coolest Player I Never Played With

If this hit you…

you’ll feel it even more when you read it.

🌍 Beyond the Rink

This isn’t just hockey.

It’s about recognizing the people who shape you.

The ones who don’t get credit…

but the ones you never forget.

🪞 Reader Reflection

Think about your own life. Who was that person for you?

The one who made everything feel steady…without ever asking for recognition?

🔁 Share This

If someone came to mind while reading this…

send this to them.

They probably never heard how much they mattered.

Share

Final Thought

Some teammates change games.

Others change people.

I thought I’d be done with hockey one day.

But in a way…

this is how I’m still part of it.

That’s The Inner Rink.

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today.

Train your mind the same way you train your body.

I’ll see you next time.

— Joe Drapluk

“The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.”

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Join The Captain's Circle

Subscribe now

Share The Inner Rink

“FLOW isn’t something you force. It’s what’s left when you stop interfering.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a weekly practice on the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Between Shifts is a mental conditioning system inside The Inner Rink.

RESET was Level 1.

RHYTHM was Level 2.

FLOW is Level 3.

This is where preparation turns into performance.

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

What FLOW Is

FLOW is performance without interference.

It’s when:

• the game slows down.

• your reads feel automatic.

• your body moves before your mind can react

You’re not guessing.

You’re not forcing.

You’re just playing.

FLOW isn’t a peak moment. It’s a clear state.

What Most Players Get Wrong

They try to create FLOW. They chase it.

• They force plays.

• They overthink decisions.

• They try to “make something happen.”

And the moment they do that…they lose it.

FLOW doesn't come from effort. It comes from trust

FLOW > FORCE

Force looks aggressive. FLOW looks inevitable.

Force grips tighter. FLOW stays loose.

Force chases plays. FLOW reads and reacts.

Force burns energy. FLOW conserves it.

Force tries to dominate. FLOW creates.

You don’t enter flow by pushing harder. FLOW begins when control ends.

A Pro Example

Same moment. Different layer.

Semi-finals.

Down late.

The building already decided the game was over.

RESET kept me from spiraling.

RHYTHM kept me steady.

But FLOW is what let me execute.

• I wasn’t thinking about the goal.

• I wasn’t forcing a play.

• I wasn’t trying to be the hero.

The game came to me and I trusted it.

• Puck finds space.

• Timing lines up.

• Shot goes in

Just action.

If I tried to force that moment, I miss it.

If I overthink, I’m late.

The game didn’t shake my mind. And my mind didn’t interfere with the game.

That’s FLOW.

The Practice

FLOW isn’t something you turn on.

It’s what’s left when you stop interrupting.

1. Trust Your Preparation

You’ve already done the work.

Let is show up.

2. Simplify the Moment

Next play.

Next touch.

Next decision.

3. Remove Extra Thought

No second guessing.

No overanalyzing.

Clear mind. Fast body.

The FLOW Cue

When you feel yourself forcing:

Stop. Breathe once.

Then say internally: “Let it come.”

Not passive. Not detached.

Available.

FLOW is not chasing the game. It’s allowing your preparation to show up without interference.

Jessica’s Perspective- Brain & Performance

FLOW happens when the brain shifts out of conscious control.

Too much thinking activates the prefrontal cortex- which slows down decision making.

Under pressure, untrained athletes over engage this system.

That’s when hesitation appears.

That’s when timing breaks.

FLOW occurs when trained patterns take over.

The body executes what it already knows.

Less thinking. More integration.

FLOW isn’t mental intensity. It’s neutral efficiency.

What FLOW Changes

With consistent FLOW practice:

• decisions simplify.

• movements clean up.

• energy stabilizes.

• confidence becomes quiet.

You stop pressing.

You stop proving.

You start playing.

FLOW is identity in motion.

Beyond the Rink

FLOW applies everywhere.

• Work.

• Conversations.

• Creative output.

The moment you try to control everything, you lose timing.

The moment you trust your preparation, things move cleaner.

Control creates friction. Trust creates FLOW.

Reader Reflection

Think about your best performance.

Were you forcing it?

Or were you just playing?

Final Thoughts

Most players think performance comes from doing more.

• Thinking more.

• Trying harder.

• Forcing moments.

But the best performances usually come from something else:

letting go.

When preparation is done, and interference disappears,

performance shows up on its own.

That’s FLOW.

That’s The Inner Rink

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today.

- Joe Drapluk

The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Join The Captain's Circle

Where This Fits in the System

RESET → stabilize yourself.

RHYTHM → regulate your tempo.

FLOW → trust the moment.

Next:

MASTERY → identity independence.

PLAYERMAKER → full integration.

Between Shifts Reflection

When pressure hits, ask yourself:

Am I trying to force this…

or

Am I trusting what I already built?

FLOW lives in the second answer.

Leave a comment

🥅Recent Articles

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Share

Share The Inner Rink

Join The Captain's Circle

“You don’t have to be the best player in the room to change the room.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink-a weekly practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

The Inner Rink isn’t just about performance.

It’s about who you become inside the room.

Inside every team, every locker room, and every group under pressure, certain roles always emerge.

• Some players chase attention.

• Some players chase stats.

• And some players stabilize everything.

Every coach has a phrase for that player:

“Every team needs a guy like that.”

That player has a name in the Inner Rink.

The Total Teammate.

This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

What the Total Teammate is

The Total Teammate isn’t the loudest player.

• Not the flashiest.

• Not always the captain.

The Total Teammate is the player who stabilizes the room.

• They regulate before reacting.

• They bring consistency when others fluctuate.

• They hold the standard quietly.

Not for recognition. For the team.

Anyone can become this player.

It’s not a title. It’s a discipline.

What “Total” Actually Means

At its core, The Total Teammate isn’t a role.

It’s an identity.

It describes someone who shows up completely for the team in every environment the game creates.

🥅On The Ice

The Total Teammate:

• Does their job and the invisible jobs.

• Competes every shift regardless of minutes or role.

• Elevates linemates; not just their own stat line.

• Is trusted in hard moments.'

  • Late-game shifts.

  • Down a goal.

  • Protecting a lead.

They play the game the right way, even when nobody is watching.

🥅In The Locker Room

The Total Teammate:

• Brings emotional stability (never too high, never too low).

• Holds the standard without preaching.

• Makes teammates feel sharper and more confident.

• Knows when to lead, when to listen, and when to disappear.

Energy spreads. The Total Teammate understands that and manages their energy accordingly.

🥅With Coaches & Staff

The Total Teammate is:

• Coachable.

• Dependable.

• Low ego.

• High accountability.

They execute the system even when the puck isn’t finding them.

And over time something happens: Reliability becomes trust.

🥅At The Organizational Level

Eventually the Total Teammate stops being viewed as just another player.

They become:

• An asset, not a variable.

• Someone who fits any room, any role.

• Someone who raises culture; not just competes inside it.

That’s why the word Total matters.

Not the best scorer. Not the toughest guy.

Complete. Reliable. Trusted.

What Most Players Miss

Most athletes believe value comes from production.

• Goals.

• Assists.

• Stats.

• Minutes.

But inside a locker room, value often looks different.

The players who last the longest and matter the most usually do something else:

They make everyone around them better.

Not by talking constantly.

By how they carry themselves.

• Their preparation.

• Their regulation.

• Their reliability.

They stabilize the environment and coaches notice that faster than any stat line.

Why Coaches Trust This Player

Every coach is searching for one thing: reliability.

When games get chaotic, they want to know someone will still play the game the right way.

The Total Teammate becomes that player.

• They backcheck when they’re tired.

• They support teammates when confidence dips.

• They execute the system even when the puck isn’t finding them.

Not because it’s glamorous, because it’s necessary.

Over time, that reliability becomes trust. And trust becomes opportunity.

Join The Captain's Circle

The Inner Rink Role

The Total Teammate shows up in moments like:

• After a bad shift.

• After a goal against.

• During a losing streak.

• During travel.

• During adversity.

When emotions spike, the Total Teammate regulates.

They don’t add chaos to the room; they contain it.

They simplify the moment.

This is quiet leadership and teams win long seasons because of it.

Jessica’s Perspective- Group Regulation

Teams regulate off the calmest nervous system in the room.

Not the loudest. Not the most talented.

The most regulated.

• When one player stays grounded, the group subconsciously stabilizes.

• When one player spirals, it spreads.

Emotional contagion is real. So is emotional containment.

The Total Teammate contains.

The Practice

Becoming a Total Teammate is behavioral discipline.

Start with four habits.

1. Regulate Before You React

Bad shift.
Bad call.
Bad bounce.

Pause.

Slow breath.

Respond; don’t react.

2. Do The Small Things Consistently

Details build trust.

Backchecks.
Line changes.
Preparation.

Consistency stabilizes rooms.

3. Speak Less, Mean More

The Total Teammate doesn’t talk constantly.

However, when they speak, it matters.

Quiet credibility is stronger than loud leadership.

4. Make The Room Better

Energy spreads. So does calm.

Bring stability, not noise.

The Daily Behavior Standard

🥅Before The Rink

Ask yourself one question:

“How can I make the group better today?”

Then visualize one teammate you can uplift.

Energy.
Communication.
Confidence.

Total Teammates don’t need perfect conditions to lead.

🥅At The Rink

• Be early.

• Make eye contact.

• Acknowledge staff.

Your body language should say: “I’m here to work. I’ve got you.”

The room should feel better when you walk in.

🥅During Practice

The first three reps matter.

Make them sharp.
Intentional.
Fast.

Communicate early. Finish drills the right way.

Coaches trust players they don’t have to watch closely.

🥅Between Whistles

• Eyes on the game.

• Communicate useful information.

• Reset immediately after mistakes.

The bench is a mirror.

Be the reflection you want the team to see.

🥅After the Game

Recovery begins immediately.

Nutrition.
Mobility.
Treatment.

Thank the staff.

Then reflect: What did I do well for the team today? What do I adjust tomorrow?

🥅Off The Ice

• Sleep like a pro.

• Eat like your career depends on it.

• Train for durability. Not Instagram.

Availability is value.

🥅The Hard Day Standard

Bad days happen.

The Total Teammate responds the same way every time.

• Show up anyway.

• Simplify the game.

• Effort before emotion.

This is where separation happens.

🥅The Litmus Test

Each night ask yourself three questions.

1. Did I make at least one teammate better today?

2. Would a coach feel more comfortable trusting me tomorrow?

3. Did I behave like someone a championship team keeps around?

If yes= stay the course. If no= tomorrow is a correction.

🧠 Reader Reflection

Think about the best teams you’ve been part of.

• Who stabilized the room?

• Who stayed steady when things went wrong?

Now ask yourself: What would it look like if that player was you?

Beyond The Rink

The Total Teammate role applies everywhere.

• Work teams.

• Families.

• Friend groups.

Every environment under pressure needs someone who can stabilize it.

Not dominate it. Contain it.

The Total Teammate Code

The Total Teammate follows a simple code:

• Do your job and the invisible jobs
• Compete every shift regardless of role or minutes
• Make linemates better, not just your stat line
• Stabilize the room when emotions spike
• Execute the system even when nobody is watching
• Speak with purpose, not volume
• Bring consistency when others fluctuate
• Leave every environment better than you found it

The goal is simple:

Become the player every team trusts.

Not the loudest.
Not the flashiest.

The most reliable.

Final Thoughts

You don’t have to be the best player in the room to change the room.

You just have to stay steady when others don’t.

That role is always available.

Anyone can step into it.

That’s The Total Teammate.

Talent gets noticed. Total Teammates get kept.

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today. I’ll see you next time.

—Joe Drapluk
The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Leave a comment

Where This Fits In The System

RESET → stabilize yourself

RHYTHM → stabilize your tempo

TOTAL TEAMMATE → stabilize the room

FLOW → perform freely

MASTERY → identity independence

PLAYERMAKER → shape the environment

🏆Up Next in The Inner Rink:

Between Shifts: FLOW
A practice for executing without force. Flow isn’t something you chase.
It’s what remains when nothing inside you is fighting the moment.

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

The Coolest Player I Never Played With

Subscribe now

Share The Inner Rink

“RESET stabilizes you. RHYTHM organizes you.

RESET interrupts chaos. RHYTHM prevents it.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a weekly practice on the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Between Shifts is a mental conditioning system inside The Inner Rink.

RESET was Level 1.

RHYTHM is Level 2.

• This is where discipline compounds.

• This is where we stop reacting to tempo and start setting it.

• This is where today’s practice begins.

Subscribe now

What RHYTHM Is

RHYTHM is controlled tempo.

It’s the ability to decide how you move before pressure decides for you.

Most players don’t break because they lack skill.

They break because they spike and crash.

• Too high after wins.

• Too low after mistakes.

• Too fast when it speeds up.

• Too drained when it matters.

RHYTHM is stability in motion and emotional regulation.

What Most Players Miss

They train effort. They don’t train recovery.

They train intensity. They don’t train tempo.

Performance isn’t just about how hard you go. It’s about how clean you regulate.

RHYTHM teaches you to:

• Control emotional amplitude.

• Breathe under load.

• Earn your effort.

• Respect Recovery.

Think seasons, not days.

RESET protects identity. RHYTHM protects longevity.

A Pro Example

There was a stretch in my pro career where my ice time fluctuated hard.

One weekend I’m playing big minutes.

• Powerplay.

• Penalty kill.

• Key situations.

The next weekend?

• Short shifts.

• Different roles.

• Different line.

Early in my professional career, that would’ve wrecked me.

More minutes ➡️ Spike

Less minutes ➡️ Crash

• You start chasing impacts.

• Forcing plays.

• Trying to prove something.

That’s not RHYTHM. That’s ego reacting to the tempo.

It took time to understand something simple:

My job wasn’t to match my emotions to my minutes. My job was to match my tempo to the game.

• Same preparation.

• Same breath.

• Same energy.

Whether I played 22 minutes or 9. That’s when consistency stabilized.

RHYTHM isn’t about the day. It’s about the season.

Think seasons, not days.

The Practice

This is daily discipline. Not situational.

1. Set Your Internal Pace Early

Before the day starts, decide your tempo.

• Slow breath.

• Clear intention.

• Controlled tone.

You don’t drift into RHYTHM. You choose it.

2. Earn Your Effort

• Heavy day.

• Moderate Day.

• Light Day.

Stress ➡️ Recovery ➡️ Adaptation.

No recovery, no adaptation. Only accumulation.

3. Contain Emotional Amplitude

• Feel everything.

• Return to baseline deliberately.

Your habits, not your mood, run your performance.

4. Slow The Moment Under Pressure

When everything speeds up:

• Exhale longer.

• Lower your tone.

• Narrow your focus.

• Next action.

The athlete with RHYTHM doesn’t chase tempo. He sets it.

Jessica’s Perspective: Nervous System Literacy

RHYTHM is nervous system awareness.

• Activation & Recovery.

• Sympathetic & Parasympathetic.

Elite performance requires both.

• Without recovery, stress compounds.

• Without regulation, decision-making deteriorates.

Intentional cycling sustains performance. Accidental cycling drains it.

RHYTHM is biological discipline.

Beyond The Rink

RHYTHM applies everywhere.

• Business.

• Family.

• Training.

• Creative work.

Most people live in constant activation.

• They spike.

• They crash.

• They burn out.

The calmest nervous system in the room sets direction.

• Stability compounds.

• Instability exposes itself.

Life isn’t won in a day. It’s navigated in seasons.

🧠Reader Reflection

• Where in your life are you spiking and crashing?

• Where are you overextending instead of regulating?

• What would change if you set your tempo early instead of chasing it late?

Think seasons, not days.

Join The Captain's Circle

RHYTHM is Level 2 of the Between Shifts™️ Mental Conditioning System

FLOW is next.

And, FLOW is earned.

Final Thoughts

Most players think the game is decided by skill, speed, systems, or opportunity.

However, when you strip away the noise, it always comes down to one thing:

The Inner Rink.

• Your identity keeps you steady.

• Your tempo keeps you sustainable.

If you can regulate your pace when everything speeds up and if you can think seasons instead of reacting to days, you don’t just perform well—You last.

RHYTHM is how you stay in the game long enough to become who you’re capable of becoming.

Thank yourself for showing up to practice today.

— Joe Drapluk

The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Leave a comment

🥅Recent Articles

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Share

Share The Inner Rink

Join The Captain's Circle

“You don’t become the player you needed by outperforming someone else. You become him when you stop measuring yourself against anyone else.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a weekly practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness—on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

I’ve spent years training my mind the same way I trained my body.

• Systems.

• Skills.

• Structure.

And then, the mental game behind all of it.

At every level (youth, junior, college, pro) I learned one truth:

Your mind decides your ceiling long before your skills ever do.

And sometimes the ceiling isn’t skill.

It’s identity.

Let’s begin.

Subscribe now

The Identity I Didn’t Realize I Was Carrying

For most of my life, I wasn’t just Joe.

I was one of ‘the twins.’

• We trained together.

• We played together.

• Got compared together.

It wasn’t dramatic or negative (most of the time), just constant.

Side by side. Stacked. Measured.

Even when I didn’t consciously think about it, my identity was relational.

I wasn’t just me.

I was me, in comparison.

The Shift

When my brother retired and I went pro, something changed.

For the first time in my life, I walked into a locker room where no one knew “the twins.”

They only knew me.

• No shared narrative.

• No automatic comparison.

• Nu built in lens.

Just my name on the back of the jersey. And what I felt wasn’t loneliness, it was clarity. It felt like I was finally being seen.

But more importantly: I was finally seeing myself.

What Actually Changed

I didn’t become more skilled, louder, or become someone new.

I finally stopped processing myself through comparison.

The subtle measuring stopped. The framing stopped. And without that noise, something became obvious:

I had always known who I was. I just couldn't hear it clearly. When the comparison disappeared, the clarity surfaced. Not ego.

Clarity.

Join The Captain's Circle

Jessica’s Perspective- Identity & Nervous System

When identity is constantly shaped through comparison, the nervous system stays subtly activated.

You’re scanning, measuring, adjusting.

Even if it feels normal.

Relational identity keeps you externally referenced. And when the reference point shifts- a sibling retires, a teammate leaves, a role changes- your sense of self can feel unstable.

Internal identity is different.

• It doesn't depend on position.

• It doesn’t depend of comparison.

• It doesn't spike and crash with circumstance.

When identity becomes internal, regulation becomes easier.

Clarity replaces tension.

Performance becomes cleaner.

Comparison Distorts Identity

Even healthy comparison distorts perception.

When identity is constantly referenced against someone else;

• a sibling

• a teammate

• draft class

• a depth chart

you process yourself relationally.

Relational identity feels stable…until the relationship shifts. Then you either feel lost, or free.

Freedom comes when identity is internal.

Becoming the Player You Needed

When I was younger, what I needed wasn’t more validation.

It wasn’t more coaching time. And it wasn’t more ice time.

I needed to be individually defined. But no one could give me that.

Identity isn’t granted. It’s claimed.

I didn’t become the player I needed when I went pro.

I became the player I needed when I stopped defining myself through someone else’s lens.

This isn’t just about Twins

This applies to:

• Players stuck behind veterans

• Athletes constantly being compared to siblings or teammates.

• Pros measured against draft positions

• Anyone living inside someone else’s shadow.

• Anyone grouped into a label that blurs individuality.

At some point, you have to ask:

Who am I without comparison? Not better than. Not behind. Not next to.

Just, Who am I?

That’s the player you needed.

🧠 Reader Reflection

Where in your life are you still defining yourself through someone else?

Where are you processing yourself relationally instead of internally?

If the comparison disappeared tomorrow…

who would you be?

That’s your Inner Rink speaking.

The Next Evolution

When identity becomes internal, something shifts. You stop competing for space in the room and you start stabilizing it.

You’re not trying to be seen. You’re steady. You’re accountable.

• You don’t spiral.

• You don’t react.

• You don’t need validation.

You hold your ground.

And quietly, without announcement, you begin becoming something else.

Not just the player you needed.

The teammate you once wished you had.

The Total Teammate.

Final Thoughts

Most players think growth comes from competition.

Sometimes it does, but sometimes growth comes from silence. From separation. From the removal of comparison.

You don’t become the player you needed by outperforming someone else. You were always there.

Sometimes you just need the noise to fade.

That’s the Inner Rink.

Thank yourself for showing up today. I’ll see you next time.

—Joe Drapluk
The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Leave a comment

🏆Up Next in The Inner Rink:

Between Shifts: RHYTHM
A practice for controlling tempo when everything speeds up. RESET protects who you are. RHYTHM decides how you move.

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

The Coolest Player I Never Played With

Subscribe now

Share The Inner Rink

The hardest game doesn’t end with the final whistle. It begins when no one’s keeping score.

☀️What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-write The Inner Rink — a weekly practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor — here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

For most of my life, I knew who I was the moment I woke up.

I was an athlete.

• My day had structure.

• My effort had direction.

• My identity had edges.

And then one day, the game ended.

Not with a dramatic final shift or a moment everyone clapped for.

Just a quiet transition into adulthood, where no one asked about my game anymore and no one handed me a new jersey to step into.

That is when the question showed up. The one no one prepares you for.

Who am I now that I’m no longer a hockey player?

If you are reading this and that question feels familiar, this practice is for you.

The post-game identity shift is one of the hardest transitions every elite level athlete faces.

When the structure that once held you disappears, the schedule fades, the role shifts, or the game goes quiet- The Story You Tell Yourself becomes everything.

The Story You Tell Yourself

The Post Game Playbook isn’t about becoming someone new.

It’s about stabilizing who you already are, separating worth from role, and giving your competitive drive a new place to live.

Let’s begin.

The Post-Game Playbook is not motivation or about “finding your passion.”
It’s a practice for the moments when the structure that once held your identity disappears.

What breaks most athletes after the game isn’t the loss of competition. It’s about the moment the structure fades, the rink goes quiet and the jersey comes off.

The moments no one is telling you where to be, what time to show up, or what your role is.

• Sometimes that happens at the end of a career.

• Sometimes it happens in an offseason.

• Sometimes it happens after an injury, a scratch, a trade, or a role change.

But eventually, every athlete faces the same post-game moment and most players are never taught how to handle it.

Subscribe now

Jessica’s Perspective- From The Nervous System

Most post-game advice skips the nervous system.

When structure disappears, the nervous system loses its regulator and without stabilization, the brain stays in survival mode(scanning, bracing, reacting).

Athletes don’t struggle after sport because they lack resilience.

They struggle because sport shaped their identity, nervous system, and reward circuitry for years. Often decades.

Here’s what is actually happening beneath the surface:

• Your identity was externally reinforced through performance, role, and contribution.

• Your nervous system was regulated by structure such as schedules, feedback, and recovery cycles.

• Your dopamine system was calibrated to competition through wins, losses, progression, and purpose.

When the game ends, those systems don’t gently adjust. They go quiet.

That quiet can feel like emptiness, restlessness, anxiety, irritability, grief, or a vague sense that you have lost yourself.

This isn’t weakness.

It’s a neurobiological identity gap and it can be rebuilt with the right approach.

Join The Captain's Circle

THE POST-GAME IDENTITY RESET

Three Steps to Reclaim Your Identity

This isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about stabilizing who you already are, separating worth from role, and giving your competitive drive a new place to live.

1. Stabilize The Athlete Identity

(AFFIRM:“I am still someone, even without the game.”)

The biggest mistake athletes make after sport is rushing to replace their identity.

• A new career.

• A new mission.

• A new label.

Standing still feels unbearable so you grab onto anything.

But identity doesn’t grow on unstable ground.

When structure disappears, the nervous system interprets uncertainty as a threat; not danger, but disorientation.

Before you decide what’s next, your system needs stability.

The work here is simple:

Anchor into traits that were never dependent on a scoreboard. Transferable skills such as:

• Discipline

• Consistency

• Adaptability

• Leadership

• Resilience

• Learning capacity

These didn’t retire when you did.

Drill:
Ask yourself:
If the game never existed, what parts of me would still be true?

Write capabilities.
Not titles.

2. Separate Worth From Role

(AFFIRM:“What I did is not who I am.”)

This is the hardest step.

For years, worth and performance ran together.

A good game meant confidence.
A bad game meant doubt.

When the role disappears, worth feels like it disappears with it.

This isn’t ego. It’s conditioning.

Performance-based systems train the brain to equate output with value.
When output stops, the brain registers loss of status.

That’s why post-game life feels heavy.

The work here isn’t rejection, it’s relief.

Reframe this:

My sport expressed my identity. It did not define it.

Then ask:

• Who was I being when I was at my best?

• What did people trust me with under pressure?

• What qualities showed up consistently?

Those qualities didn’t retire.

They’re still yours.

3. Redirect The Competitive Energy

(“Where does this fire belong now?”)

Athletes don’t lose their drive after the game.

They lose a place to put it.

Unused competitive energy turns inward and shows up as:

• frustration

• self-criticism

• restlessness

• chasing intensity without meaning

The mind doesn’t need another sport.

It needs:

• progression

• challenge

• feedback

• contribution

In other words; a new arena.

This step isn’t about deciding your life’s purpose.

It’s about giving your drive somewhere to move.

Start small:

• mentor someone

• build something measurable

• train your body with a new goal

• learn a skill with structure

• contribute where effort matters

For me, this was when competition softened into leadership.

The fire didn’t disappear.

It evolved.

Beyond The Rink

This phase is not an ending. It’s Between Shifts.

It’s a reorganization of identity.

You are learning how to be disciplined without being defined, driven without being consumed, and competitive without constant validation.

This practice isn’t just for athletes leaving the game.

It applies anytime structure fades:

• offseason

• injury

• career shifts

• relationship endings

• identity transitions

Life has post-game moments too.

This playbook teaches you how to move through them
without losing yourself.

🧠Reader Reflection

Where in your life has structure recently faded?

Not permanently — just enough to feel unsteady.

What part of you is trying to rush forward
before stabilizing who you already are?

That’s the place this practice applies.

Click To Watch ⬆️

Final Thoughts

The freedom was never the problem. The lack of structure was. Athletes aren’t built to drift. We’re built to move with edges. When the jersey comes off the game doesn’t disappear, it changes scale.

The post-game moment isn’t about reinvention.

• It’s about stabilization.

• Identity before direction.

• Structure before purpose.

This isn’t the end of who you were.

It’s the beginning of who you are without needing the scoreboard to prove it.

Thank yourself for showing up today. I’ll see you next time.

—Joe Drapluk
The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

A Letter to The Former Athlete

“You did not lose yourself.

You outgrew a version of you that was held together by schedules, jerseys, and scoreboards.

That version mattered.
It shaped you.
It deserves respect.

But it was never meant to be the only place your identity lived.

You are not late.
You are not behind.
You are not failing at life.

You are in transition, and that is a skill too.

With patience, structure, and honesty, this can become the most grounded chapter you have ever lived.

You are still you.

Just learning how to exist beyond the rink.

That is the Inner Rink. Even now.”

Leave a comment

🥅 Thank You for Being Here & If You Want to Go Deeper

If this hit you, consider joining The Captain’s Circle—a private space for athletes, former players, and high performers who are ready to:

• rewrite their Inner Rink story.

• build identity that outlasts the game.

• train their mind with the same discipline they trained their body,

Inside, we break down frameworks, stories, and mental systems to help you become someone who doesn’t just play the game—You make it. As a PlayerMaker and part of The Inner Rink team.

Join The Captain's Circle

🐐Recent Articles

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Subscribe now

Share

Share The Inner Rink

Join The Captain's Circle

“You don’t lose games because of mistakes. You lose them because you never let the last one go.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-create The Inner Rink—a weekly practice on the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

RESET is one of the first Inner Rink skills I ever learned—even before I had a name for it.

And just like any other skill, it needs to be sharpened through practice and repetition. Let’s RESET.

Subscribe now

What This RESET Practice Is

RESET isn’t motivation.

• It’s not mindset hype.

• It’s not about playing better hockey.

RESET is a practice.

A skill you return to in the moments between shifts:

• after the play.

• after the whistle.

• after something doesn’t go your way.

This is the Inner Rink.

Why RESET Matters

Most players think the damage happens on the ice; it doesn’t.

The damage happens after the play when the mind starts replaying, judging, spiraling, and quietly rewriting identity in real time.

• That’s where confidence cracks.

• That’s where doubt creeps in.

• That’s where players disappear inside the moment.

RESET interrupts that process.

Not by calming down and not by forcing confidence, but by staying yourself when the moment tries to decide who you are.

This isn’t something you understand once. It’s something you return to—between shifts.

What RESET Looks Like In Real Life

A defining example when I used the Inner Rink RESET skill in my pro career came during the semifinals of the season we won the championship in Peoria.

• Five minutes left.

• Tight game.

• The other team scores to go up 2–1.

And you could feel it immediately.

• The entire arena reacted.

• Their bench exploded like they had just won the game.

• Our bench went quiet.

You know that feeling, when the air shifts and doubt settles in.

The story starts writing itself:

• “This might’ve been the dagger.”

• “We’re running out of time.”

• “This could be it.”

Most teams live or die right there.

This was my moment between shifts.

• I was on the bench, breathing, slowing everything down.

• Not buying the initial reaction.

• Not replaying the goal.

• Not letting the noise decide anything.

I RESET.

The story changed.

From:

“Fuck… we’re going to lose.”

To:

• “This is my mo ment.”

• “Just win the next shift.”

• “We don’t lose at home.”

Nothing dramatic and nothing loud.

Just a decision about who I was going to be.

Next shift, I scored. It was my only goal of the entire playoffs.

• And everything flipped.

• The arena shifted.

• Our bench came alive.

• Their bench went silent.

In less than 40 seconds, the story went from:

“We’re about to lose”

To:

“We’re winning this game.”

Same rink. Same clock. Same teams.

Different Inner Rink.

That’s RESET.

RESET > REACT

Most players do one of two things after a moment goes wrong:

• They react emotionally.

• Or they carry the last shift into the next one.

Both lead to the same place.

• You stop playing from who you are.

• And start playing from what just happened.

RESET gives you another option.

The RESET Practice

RESET happens in three internal movements:

1. Release
   Let the moment go without explanation or blame.

2. Return
   Come back to your breath. Your body. The present moment.

3. Reclaim
   Reconnect with who you are and not what just happened.

RESET isn’t about calming down. It’s about making sure the moment doesn’t rewrite your identity.

This is something you train just like a skill.

What RESET Changes

With consistent RESET practice:

• Mistakes lose their grip.

• Pressure loses control.

• Confidence stabilizes.

• Identity becomes internal.

• You stop needing approval.

• You stop fearing reaction.

• You stop spiraling after moments you can’t change.

RESET creates space.

RHYTHM is how you move inside that space.

Beyond The Rink

RESET isn’t just a hockey skill. It’s a life skill.

You use it after:

• a hard conversation.

• a bad decision.

• a loss.

• a setback.

• a moment you wish went differently.

Life has shifts too.

RESET is how you move through them without losing yourself.

Join The Captain's Circle

Jessica’s Perspective: Nervous System & Identity

When an athlete doesn’t reset, the nervous system stays locked in reaction.

• The body interprets the mistake as threat—not danger, but instability.

• Heart rate stays elevated.

• Attention narrows.

• Thoughts loop.

This isn’t weakness; it’s biology.

RESET signals safety. When you release the moment instead of replaying it, the nervous system downshifts out of survival.

• That’s when clarity returns.

• That’s when decision-making sharpens.

• That’s when identity stabilizes.

True mental strength isn’t emotional numbness. It’s inner regulation.

When identity becomes internal, the nervous system settles—and performance follows.

RESET isn’t psychological. It’s physiological.

Reader Reflection

Think about a recent moment, on the ice or in life, where something didn’t go your way.

• What did you do after it happened?

• Did you replay it?

• Carry it?

• Let it define the next moment.

Now ask yourself:

“What would have changed if you had reset before the next shift began?”

That’s the inner work.

Final Thoughts

Most players think the game is decided by skill, speed, systems, or opportunity.

However, when you strip away the noise, it always comes down to one thing:

The Inner Rink.

Your real identity, the one that decides your ceiling, shows up when things fall apart.

• If you can release the moment instead of replaying it.

• Return to yourself instead of reacting emotionally.

• And reclaim who you are before the next shift begins,

The moment never gets to decide anything for you.

You do.

Thank you for reading this article. I appreciate you.

—Joe Drapluk
The guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

Leave a comment

Up Next:

The Post-Game Playbook—A practice for navigating identity when the structure disappears.

DISCLAIMER

The Inner Rink shares educational content for athletes and readers interested in performance psychology, mindset, and discipline. It is not intended as medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice or to take the place of such advice or treatment from a personal physician. Always seek guidance from a qualified health care professional regarding your specific questions and individual situation.

Join The Captain's Circle

Share

Share The Inner Rink

Leave a comment

You don’t play like the player you are. You play like the player you believe you are.”

What’s up y’all! Draps here.

I co-write The Inner Rink—a weekly practice about the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness—on and off the ice.

I’m a pro hockey player turned writer and mentor—here to be the guy I wish I had when I was chasing the dream.

I’ve spent years training my mind the same way I trained my body.

• Systems.

• Skills.

• Structure.

And then, the mental game behind all of it.

At every level—youth, junior, college, pro—I learned one truth:

Your mind decides your ceiling long before your skills ever do.

And whether you’re aware of it or not, there’s always a story playing in the background.

That story becomes your identity.

Let’s begin.

Subscribe now

Welcome back to The Inner Rink—where we break down the psychology of performance, discipline, and greatness, on and off the ice.

In our last practice, we talked about The Shift No One Sees — the moment between shifts where you either react or RESET.

Today, we’re going one level deeper.

We’re going inside The Story You Tell Yourself — the quiet narrative in your head that decides whether you feel like you belong or like you’re one shift away from losing everything.

Your career is influenced by your skill.

But your experience of that career?

That’s shaped by a story.

The Story You Tell Yourself.

Let’s break it down.

Identity Beats Talent- Every Time

Here’s the truth most players never hear clearly:

You don’t perform based on your full potential. You perform based on the identity you’ve accepted.

If your story is:

• “I’m streaky.”

• “I always mess up in big moments.”

• “Coaches never like me.”

• “I’m just grinding to survive.”

You’ll find a way to prove that true.

Not because you’re weak. Because your mind is loyal to the story it knows.

But when your story becomes:

• “I belong here.”

• “I’m the kind of player who adjusts, learns, and responds.”

• “Pressure doesn’t expose me- it reveals me.”

Now your brain filters reality differently.

Same rink.

Same jersey.

Different story.

Different experience.

That’s the real Inner Rink.

Not just how you think- but who you believe you are.

My First Pro Season: When My Identity Was Tested

I’ve always known who I am as a player. Even as a kid.

• Team-first.

• Defense-first.

• Unselfish.

• Hardest worker in the room.

• The player who does the little things.

• The one who shows up when it matters most.

Internally- I’ve always known that.

Externally? That was a different story.

For most of my career, I lived in a constant battle between what I believed about myself… and what other people told me I was.

• Coaches.

• Parents.

• Stats.

• Score sheets.

• Lineups.

• Opinions from the outside.

All of it made its way into my Inner Rink.

Slowly, I started trusting their story more than my own.

That changed during my first year of pro hockey.

I was constantly being moved between forward and defense.

• No role.

• No consistency.

• No explanation.

Just:

• “Play here tonight.”

• “No, you’re here now.”

• “Actually, back to the other side.”

At the time, I hated it.

I felt lost.

Frustrated.

Like a piece being moved instead of a player being developed.

I started questioning:

• Who am I actually?

What am I supposed to be?

• Am I even wanted here?

It felt like someone else was writing my career.

And then life stepped in and made sure I couldn’t ignore the real issue anymore.

I got sick. Kept playing through it.

Sicker.

Weaker.

Losing weight.

Barely functioning.

After weeks of not improving. I finally admitted myself into the hospital.

That’s when I heard the words:

Rhabdomyolysis. Stay overnight. Possibly longer.

While I was lying there- weak, wired up, and honestly scared- my coach called the hospital.

On speaker. And said:

“Release him. We have games this weekend.”

In that moment- something inside me snapped into place.

Not Anger.

Clarity.

I realized:

These people don’t actually care about me. Not my body. Not my future. Not my life.

The “family” talk disappeared the moment I became inconvenient.

And that was the moment my Inner Rink was born- even if I didn’t have a name for it yet.

From that point on, I stopped letting anyone else decide who I was.

• No coach.

• No stat line.

• No roster move.

• No voice from the outside.

My identity became my responsibility.

Not theirs.

I wasn’t perfect overnight.

But I started training something I’d never trained before:

My mind. My Inner Rink.

The next five years of my career, something shifted. Not externally. Internally.

• The noise faded.

• The need for approval faded.

• The fear faded.

• I learned how to RESET and RESPOND instead of REACT.

I stopped chasing validation and started becoming a PlayerMaker. I was in control of me.

The Inner Rink Story Shift

So how do you change the story?

Not by pretending.

Not by throwing positivity at real doubt.

You change it by taking control of the narrative in three steps:

1. Catch The Story

When you feel yourself spiraling:

• After a mistake.

• After a bad shift.

• After a tough conversation

Ask yourself:

“What story am I telling myself about this?”

• “I always mess this up.”

• “I don’t belong here.”

• “Everyone saw that.”

Don’t judge it. Just catch it.

Consciously hear it.

You won’t be able to change the story you tell yourself untll you develop this skill first.

2. Challenge The Story

Once you see it, challenge it:

• Is this actually true? Or just familiar?

• If my teammate said this about himself… would I agree?

Challenging doesn’t mean lying.

It means refusing to blindly accept the first version fear gives you.

3. Choose A New Story

This is identity.

Not fantasy. Not fake confidence.

IDENTITY.

You don’t say, “I’m amazing.”

You say something real:

• “I’m a player who learns fast.”

• “I respond well after setbacks.”

• “I belong here.”

Then you act from that story- sometimes before you fully feel it.

Because:

1. Action builds identity.

2. Identity shapes story.

3. Story drives performance.

That’s The Inner Rink.

When you change the way you look at something, what you look at changes.

Join The Captain's Circle

Jessica’s Perspective- The Psychology Beneath Performance

Something most athletes don’t realize:

Your brain doesn’t respond to reality. It responds to the story you attach to reality.

The same event—a bad game, a benching, a trade—can either strengthen you or slowly destroy you.

Not because of what happened…

…but because of what you made it mean about yourself.

When someone’s identity becomes fragile, their nervous system stays in survival mode.

• Always scanning.

• Always reacting.

• Always bracing.

That’s not toughness. That’s exhaustion and insecurity.

True mental strength isn’t emotional numbness. It’s inner stability.

When your identity is internal—your nervous system settles.

• You stop performing for approval.

• You stop fearing rejection.

• You stop living as a résumé.

• You start internally validating yourself.

Inner Rink work builds something most people never develop:

A self that doesn’t collapse under pressure.

That’s where confidence actually comes from. Not hype. IDENTITY.

Beyond The Ice

The Inner Rink isn’t just a hockey concept, it’s a human concept.

The Story You Tell Yourself doesn’t stop when the game does.

Your story shows up when:

• A season ends.

• A role changes.

• A relationship breaks.

• A job disappears.

• Your body doesn’t move like it used to.

• “I’m done.”

• “I peaked.”

• “I’m lost.”

• “I don’t know who I am without this.”

• “I’m depressed.”

Those are stories, too. And they feel real, but they are not final.

1. Catch it.

2. Challenge it.

3. Choose again.

   REPEAT.

That’s how identity is built. Not once. Daily.

Final Thoughts