Ryan Callahan had a devastating shift tonight in the game against Winnipeg that showed exactly why he was named captain of the New York Rangers. It made many write-ups, but I’ll do my best to summarize: when Callahan broke his stick on a shorthanded shift, he became a stick himself.

Twice, he threw his body in front of a flying puck with a selflessness that bordered on the insane; once, he punched it out of the zone as he splayed on the ice. He threw in two body checks for good measure. The crowd roared its stunned admiration, followed by a sustained cheering that eventually culminated in chants of “CALLY! CALLY!”

When HBO filmed Callahan’s postgame reunion with his feisty grandmother after an away game against the Buffalo Sabres in the 24/7 series, he came across as a blue-collar kid from the Rust Belt who had made it big on Broadway yet retained his humble roots. I thought of that blue-collarness when I watched him sacrifice himself last night. The simplest form of the narrative is that the captain leads by example, showing his teammates the kind of effort required to win games.

But I got a slightly different message. To me, Callahan seemed to be telling his teammates something not about finding the incentive to work but, rather, about the kind of work toward which they should aspire. The Rangers admittedly looked hapless for a lot of the game; some of the loudest boos pelted big money, pretty-faced (white collar?) acquisition Brad Richards for weak passes, shots that seemed to fade as they left his stick, and an occasional look of total bewilderment on the ice – as if he literally didn’t know where he was. But – as the pundits say – the effort was there. Players passed with aplomb; they just didn’t shoot it. They moved swiftly down the ice, but then stopped short of the goal as though confused as to what step came next.

Callahan, though, demonstrated that getting the job done meant facing forward: meeting one’s worst fears head on and letting the pain happen. Shoot the puck – even though it will ding the post nine times out of ten. That tenth time when it finally goes in seems like it will never come, and we all want it to go in on the first try. 

This is the kind of lesson that applies to many other things in life besides hockey, although I’m not sure that it can be rendered any more powerfully than the sight of #24 letting the puck ricochet off his shoulder as he threw himself on the ground. Effort (literally) personified, a selfless yet utterly self-dependent kind of effort that I think can stem only from the confident improvisation that comes with a certain amount of practice.

Seeing Callahan’s selfless shift made me think of my own attempts to balance my work – for which I truly have a passion – with a desire to have a life outside of it. (After all, I could have been working and instead went to a Rangers game). Can the balance actually be better achieved if I’m more willing to throw myself in front of the puck – to face the fears and do the hardest mental and emotional work? Will that courage then free up the mental space that I waste wondering if I am working hard enough?

In short, Callahan’s willingness to be a casualty reminded me to work better, not harder. To be courageous with the questions I ask myself as I plan a day’s work, and to be willing to fail if the task is ultimately more enriching and important than one of lesser value in which I’m sure to succeed. Defining what such tasks might be in the context of my job is admittedly a bit more difficult than in a hockey game. I suspect the concrete, obvious nature of the tasks required of athletes is one reason that we love sports like hockey so much. Shooting the puck into the opposition’s net and preventing it from ending up in yours are such beautifully simple, complementary goals. But as complex and nuanced as my job seems to me, I know what the truly difficult tasks are, and if they seem hard to define for me, it’s probably because I’ve chosen not to name them. I’m not a linemate on your bench, Cally, but I get the message.

Originally posted on June 1st, 2016.

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