So, you are Ben Barr. You are the golden child of D-1 Hockey, and you have now landed in Downeast Maine largely because you have been very good at what you do ... which has been to recruit talented young players and mold them into winning teams. Teams that win important games, in the most important tournament of all. You love what you do, and you have finally reached the summit of your profession, which is leading the program as opposed to being someone else's lieutenant. You are confident that, having earned a chance to run a program rather than to answer to someone else, you can reprise your previous accomplishments. And so far, you once again seem to be weaving your magic spell over what's been a nondescript program in recent years, and turning them into true national contenders. Your current employer is so thrilled with progress that's been made under your leadership that they've extended your contract AND given you a nice raise as an award for work really well done, and for your young family to feel welcome in your new home. This may not be Minnesota ... likewise, it's not Troy, Schenectady or Providence, maybe it feels a little like the Pioneer Valley, but it's certainly not Kalamazoo. But everyone seems to like me, and it's starting to feel like home.
This season has been the best so far since you've been in charge, and you've done so well that you know, no matter what, your team will be playing competitive elimination hockey at least through the end of March. You've been here before, and you can feel it in your bones. But you also know that your team hasn't been at its best for awhile as the long regular season has wrapped up. You know this feeling too, very well, as your best past teams haven't always fared so well in conference tourneys. Your current program hasn't been to the site of the tourney semis for almost as long as you've been a D-1 assistant. That's a long time, by any measure. You want badly to rectify this, and to give your new hosts a trinket of pleasure by gifting them that long-awaited March trek to Boston. All you have to do to give it to them is win just one game, and then you get to slip into a super-comfortable and familiar role as the spunky underdog David to the twin Boston Goliaths. Playing with house money.
But this "one game" feels a little trickier than it should feel. Because in order to get to a comfort point where you can do your David thingie again, against the big boys both YOU and your understanding-yet-impatient fanbase consider to be your long-term yet disconnected "rivals", you have a UNH program that has (more out of fortune than merit) managed to find themselves in the "David" role you so relish, so you are aware they will be coming up to your barn for this "one game" with absolutely nothing to lose, and potentially everything to gain. Worse, this starts to feel like the first time you - Ben Barr - actually have something on the line in your HC career that could hurt you. Your new fanbase has enjoyed the position of power over UNH for well over 30 years now. This is your first chance to align yourself with the UMaine legends who've preceded you - Walshy and Standbrook - or at the very least TIMMAY, who whilst not a Downeast legend, did enough not to screw up the dynamics of the UNH-UMaine thingie. Win the "one game", and all is right with the world, and YOU are the one playing with house money.
This year with UNH has been interesting. You definitely "get" the UNH situation, as you showed when you played the Colby exhibition game to win, as opposed to just getting everyone a preseason competitive run-out, who cares about the outcome. That carried forwards to the regular home game, no problem ... but then in February, as this year's team had its first extended wobble, you went to UNH and your boys got swept. Nothing fatal, mind you, and sure it meant more to those guys than it did to your guys. But just as you may have sensed back in October at Colby, perhaps UNH sensed in February ... there might be a more important game to be played between these two teams at the tail end of the season. One where a trip to Boston could very well be on the line ... and so it has come to pass ... and you find yourself as Goliath, not David.
You know you are supposed to win this game. You have the better team ... better record, better league finish, better PWR, and better in any objectively measurable way, PLUS you are playing the game in front of the consensus best home atmosphere in the East. Maybe UNH beat you (twice) on their newly-shrunken home ice. But this will be different ... or will it?? UNH has won three in a row, all shutouts. "Big whoop", you tell yourself, knowing that was against a last place team, playing out the string. You know UNH wasn't as impressive at midweek as they were over the previous weekend, and that matters, doesn't it?? But they were at least playing at midweek, while your guys were home practicing. Your opposite number in Durham is coaching without a contract after the next month or so. You know you will be able to get your own guys to feel the urgency of the situation, but Saturday will not be their final game of the season, no matter what. You can't invent the desperation that you know the opposition will be arriving with ... or at least "should" be arriving with. With UNH, your fans will remind you ... you never know.
This may be the first time in your three seasons at your new home where there will be express and explicit expectations on you to win. Not as an underdog, but as an Alpha program against a rival program that's been almost consistently Beta for over 30 years in your presence. A loss may dent your protective armor for the first time in your new gig, as your loyal but suddenly impatient fanbase may not tolerate losing to the program they've enjoyed the power position over for SO long now. Some losses are understandable or even tolerated, but this one could be different. That, plus a one-and-out in the really big tourney, could create questions you've never had to face before as the guy in charge. It was always the advantage to being the fair-haired lead assistant, where shortcomings would not fall in your lap. But now, you have to answer.
So, you are Ben Barr. It's been a great first three seasons in your new home. You can almost still detect the "new car smell" on your program, but the rubber is finally about to hit the road, and in your first scenario where there may actually be something to lose, you kinda wish it was someone that was not UNH. Win that "one game", and all is fine with the world, and Season 3 is a success. But lose ... ugh, perish the thought ...
