A View from the Glass: The Mental War and the Quest for Lord Stanley’s Mug

Weekly Newsletter #4 | By Matt Beleskey

There is nothing quite like this. For a hockey fan, these next 2–3 months are the absolute peak of the sporting calendar. It’s non-stop, every-night, "don't-even-think-about-changing-the-channel" playoff hockey.

But I’ll be honest with you: this is also the time of year I miss playing the most.

Watching the guys standing in the tunnel right before they take the ice—the towels waving, the crowd going absolutely insane—it still gets to me. That first step out into a playoff atmosphere is a feeling you never forget; I’m getting goosebumps just typing this.

I remember my first playoff game in Anaheim. The Ducks faithful had me so ready to run through a damn wall! The problem? I was too ready. I think I took two penalties in my first two shifts. I was chasing hits, over-skating pucks, and playing with zero fuse.

Early in my career, I thought "intensity" just meant "red-lining." I’d get so wired for big games that it actually became a liability. I’d make rushed plays with the puck because I thought I had less time than I did, or I’d suffer from muscle cramps mid-game because I had burned through all my electrolytes before the first intermission just from nervous energy. I even had times where I’d physically injure myself simply by going "too" hard without control.

It took some time and experience to realize that the secret to playoff success is playing with maximum physical intensity while maintaining a completely calm, cool mind. To achieve that, I had to stop relying on adrenaline and start relying on a process..

Preparation is the only way to quiet the noise. I eventually built a five-step game-day routine.

It starts the moment you wake up. You aren't just eating; you’re fueling a high-performance engine. This means a strict regimen of hydration, electrolytes, and specific "clean" fuel. That process doesn’t stop until the puck drops. If you’re waiting until you’re thirsty to drink, you’ve already lost the battle.

Mid-day is about the "check-in." I’d spend time stretching and limbering up, specifically focusing on activating the "powerhouse" muscles—the glutes, hips, and groins—to ensure everything was firing. I’d get the heart rate up just enough to wake the system up, then I’d shut it down. A 45–90 minute nap to reset the brain for the evening ahead.

This was the game-changer for me. Before heading to the rink, I’d find a quiet space to do breathwork. I actually had the incredible opportunity to work with legendary big-wave surfer Laird Hamilton, and I incorporated his techniques to help regulate my nervous system.

Once my breathing was steady, I’d move to situational visualization. I didn't just "think" about the game; I’d mentally rehearse specific forechecks, imagine the exact areas I wanted to score from, where to find that “game changing” hit and recall the tendencies of the opposing players and goalie. By the time I arrived at the arena, my mind was already loaded with the successful outcomes I wanted to see.

Once the skates are laced, the thinking stops. You’ve done the work, you’ve built the map, and now it’s simply time to lay it all on the line.

This is the part I undervalued as a young player. By the end of my career, the second the game ended, the recovery started. I’d be getting IVs full of electrolytes and vitamins in the locker room. Then came the "fun" stuff: cold tubs, icing down the bumps and bruises, massage, and immediate refueling with high-quality food.

It was always hard for me to sleep after a big win (or a tough loss), but I found that the faster I started the physical recovery, the easier it was for my brain to finally power down. I’d watch video, analyze what went well and what needed to be better, and then "flush it" to prepare for the next 24 hours.

During this time of year, every single detail matters. The playoffs are a war of attrition, and winning those small, invisible battles off the ice—your nutrition, your mental prep, your recovery—is exactly what gives you the edge to win the war on the ice.

Enjoy the madness of the next few months. There is truly nothing in sports that compares to the Battle for Lord Stanley’s mug.

See you at the glass,

Matt Beleskey