Carving Her Path in the Crease: Amy’s Story

From the very beginning, Amy has chased the game the same way she chased her older brother, Preston—full speed, no hesitation.

“If he could ride his bike at four years old, she could ride her bike at two,” her mom says. “If he was skating, she was skating. If he was playing soccer, she was playing soccer.”

That instinct to keep up became her superpower—especially during COVID, when the world got quiet and the outdoors became the family’s place to breathe.

“The only thing that was open when the world shut down were outdoor rinks,” her mom recalls. “I remember reserving time slots at multiple rinks in a day sometimes, morning and night. We gave her a cut down hockey stick to balance with, and we were on the ice every day as a family.”

Preston taught. Amy listened. And without even realizing it, she was building the foundation for something bigger than skating—confidence.

A Tiny Helmet and a Big Heart

Amy’s hockey story has never been about waiting until the timing felt perfect. If she wanted to be on the ice, she found a way to get there.

“My husband still remembers going to get her first helmet when she was 18 months old so she could skate with her brother,” her mom says. “Trying to find one small enough to fit was a challenge, and the store clerk told us, ‘This is by far the youngest kid I have ever tried to fit a helmet on.’”

That same night, on the outdoor rink, she learned the hardest early lesson in hockey—getting up.

“She was determined and didn’t stop trying until she was standing,” her mom says. “And that’s how she still is. She’ll keep trying until she wins.”

Learning the Game by Keeping Up

In her early learn-to-play seasons, Amy’s pace stood out immediately.

“She was fast. Always chasing after her brother or her dad who was the coach,” her mom says. “One tournament she scored 25 points —and she passed every play. She’s a team player even when she could’ve just put her head down and gone.”

As she got older, Amy’s path began to look like what many girls experience in hockey—finding your place in a space where you’re often the only one. She wasn’t intimidated by the boys’ pace or size. If anything, it sharpened her edge. It pushed her to compete harder, speak up faster, and trust her instincts sooner.

“It’s always been: if Preston can do it, so can I,” her mom says. “Nothing upsets her more than an age, height, or weight limit that excludes her from what her brother is doing.”

Finding Her Game—and Finding Her People

In house league, Amy did what she always does: she adapted.

“She was great defensively and at moving the puck offensively,” her mom says. “She was loving it.”

But over time, she began noticing the difference between her experience and the tournament-heavy path Preston was on—especially the parts that felt like “big moments.”

“She’d ask when she was getting a medal, when was her tournament, how come she wasn’t staying in a hotel.”

It wasn’t about the medal itself. It was about the challenge—the feeling that she was building toward something. And as she continued to grow, Amy started noticing something else too—something that many girls eventually discover in hockey: the power of seeing other girls on the ice, as the norm. 

The Surprise Decision That Changed Everything

Then, out of nowhere, Amy made the request that would reshape her entire hockey path.

“She wanted to play in spring league after all,” her mom says. “It was sold out—and she wanted to be the goalie. There were goalie openings, and I thought: I can do this,” her mom says. “We didn’t think it would be permanent.”

But Amy did. After every game, the family asked the same question: Do you still want to be a goalie? Every time, Amy answered yes. Amy’s reasoning was simple.

“I’m glad I don’t have to skate end to end anymore,” she says. “It was tiring.”

Tough Moments—and the Kindness That Met Them

Her first games weren’t easy. Playing up with older kids meant faster shots, quicker plays, and learning under pressure.

“She did lose one game fairly bad, but the team was just better,” her mom says. “Everyone cheered for her when she came off. Goalies on other teams gave her fist bumps, and adults that played goalie came over to tell her it was okay. The amount of people who flocked over to support her when she came off the ice crying was incredible,” her mom says. “I remember one goalie dad kneeling down to her level. Whatever he said must have been just the right thing, because she hasn’t cried over a loss ever since.”

For Amy, it was a turning point—not because hockey got easier, but because she realized she didn’t have to carry it alone. 

As Amy committed to the position, her family realized she needed goalie-specific development—not just player drills.

That’s when they found Nicolas, a former Humber Valley Sharks goalie who agreed to help.

“He taught her how to skate like a goalie, find the net with no crease, and how to be square to the puck,” her mom says. “We saw massive improvements after the first session.”

Amy lights up when she talks about what she loves.

“I like tournaments because they’re fun. I like clinics because I get practice to be a better goalie. I like practice because I like being with my team,” she says. “My favourite thing to do as a goalie is slide.”

The Confidence She’s Built—and the Path Ahead

Today, Amy is more than a young goalie. She’s a competitor with a clear sense of who she is—shaped by keeping up with boys, learning quickly under pressure, and finding her stride as her own player. Her mom has seen the change everywhere.

“Her confidence has really grown. She’s louder about her wants,” she says. “She’s more assertive and asks for what she wants. She’s just a boss now.” “I’m going to play in the NHL, so I can play for Team Canada,” Amy says.

No hesitation. No qualifier. Just a kid who knows what she wants—and keeps showing up until she gets there.

A Message for Girls Finding Their Place in Hockey

Amy’s journey reflects something bigger than one position or one season: the idea that every girl can carve her own path in the game—sometimes by keeping up, sometimes by standing out, and sometimes by finding the space where she can fully be herself.

“I hope girls learn that they can play wherever they want,” her mom says. “And I hope young goalies keep raising their hand. Keep showing up. Keep training hard. You’ll get there.”

Because in hockey—and in life—confidence doesn’t always arrive first. Sometimes you build it, one skate, one save, one decision at a time.

Want to Share Your Story & Win Prizes?

At the OHF, we believe hockey is about far more than wins and losses. It’s about perseverance through adversity, the support of teammates and families, and the moments that remind us why this game matters so deeply.

Stories like Amy’s show the true heart of hockey — a love for the game that begins early, endures challenges, and is strengthened by community. Whether it’s a young player overcoming obstacles, a team rallying around one of their own, or a family finding joy and belonging at the rink, these experiences are what shape hockey in Ontario.

Submit your story by reaching out to us at: zdeforest@ohf.on.ca