On Rejection and Perseverance at the NHL Draft

This past weekend, I took my wife, Cynthia, and my daughter, Sophie, to the National Hockey League draft in Buffalo. 

We are all huge hockey fans, and this past year Sophie served on the NHL’s Youth Advisory Board, so attending the draft was really the icing on the cake. We arrived early enough to watch many of the top prospects walk the red carpet. 

It was an incredible scene. Young men who had spent their entire lives chasing one dream were surrounded by parents, siblings, grandparents and friends, all hoping to witness a moment they had imagined for years. Every selection brought hugs, tears, smiles and overwhelming emotion as these talented players heard their names called and realized they were headed to the NHL. It was impossible not to feel happy for them.

The first round on Friday night took nearly four hours. Saturday consisted of rounds two through seven, lasting from 11 in the morning until about 5 in the afternoon. As the day wore on, the crowd slowly became smaller. Cynthia and I eventually returned to the hotel, but Sophie and a couple of her friends stayed until the very last selection.

Then my phone buzzed. Sophie sent me a photograph that immediately stopped me in my tracks.

It wasn’t of one of the players celebrating with his family. It was of a young man sitting completely alone in a suit and tie, patiently waiting for his name to be called. The arena was nearly empty by then, making his isolation even more striking. Sophie told me she and her friends felt terrible for him.

By the end of the draft, 224 players had been selected. He wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

What happens next?

This may very well be one of the biggest inflection points of his life. Does he conclude that his hockey dream is over and choose another path? Perhaps he discovers a new passion, builds a successful career, meets the love of his life, raises a wonderful family, and lives an incredibly fulfilling life. There would be absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Or does he respond differently? Does he walk into the ice rink tomorrow morning and stay two hours longer than everyone else? Does he take another hundred shots every day? Does he spend more time in the gym? Does he become obsessed with improving? 

Or does he simply give up?

None of us know.

But I do know this: How he responds will tell us far more about him than the fact that he wasn’t drafted. As I looked at that photograph, I immediately thought about the Stonecutter’s Creed.

Life doesn’t remove the rock just because we had a disappointing day. The question is always the same. Will you keep pounding the rock?

History suggests we shouldn’t feel sorry for this young man just yet. 

After all, the greatest quarterback in history, Tom Brady, was picked 199th in the 2000 National Football League draft after six quarterbacks were selected ahead of him. 

Martin St. Louis wasn’t drafted at all because many believed he was too small to play in the NHL. He went on to become the league’s Most Valuable Player, win a Stanley Cup, and earn a place in the Hockey Hall of Fame. Henrik Zetterberg wasn’t selected until the 210th pick, almost the very end of the draft, before becoming captain of the Detroit Red Wings, a Stanley Cup champion and a playoff MVP. Pavel Datsyuk lasted until the sixth round before becoming one of the most gifted players the game has ever seen. Artemi Panarin wasn’t drafted by anyone, yet became one of the NHL’s elite offensive players. 

Baseball’s Mike Piazza was selected in the 62nd round, 1,390th overall, and ultimately became one of the greatest hitting catchers in baseball history.

What did all of these athletes have in common? They refused to let someone else’s opinion become their identity. The draft wasn’t their destiny. It was merely someone else’s assessment of where they stood at one particular moment in time.

Too often, we treat rejection as a verdict. It isn’t. It’s feedback.

The same thing happens in business. We lose a client. We don’t get the promotion. We miss out on the deal. We don’t get the job. Someone tells us we’re not good enough, experienced enough or talented enough. We hear “no” and mistakenly assume it means “never.” It doesn’t. It simply means the next chapter hasn’t been written yet.

Every one of us will experience moments when our name isn’t called. The question is not whether those moments will come. They will. The question is what we do next.

Those moments do not define us. Our response does.

Somewhere today, I hope that young man is back on the ice. I hope he’s skating harder than he ever has before. I hope he’s taking those extra shots, staying in the gym a little longer, and refusing to let one disappointing weekend determine the rest of his life. Because sometimes the most important chapter of a story begins the moment the world tells you no. That’s when character is revealed. That’s when dreams are either abandoned or strengthened. 

That’s when the stonecutter picks up the hammer, looks at the rock one more time, and decides to keep pounding the rock.

Robert Knakal is founder, chairman and CEO of BK Real Estate Advisors.