Happiness After Hockey: Derek Armstrong

Walk into the LA Kings offices on any given day and you'll find Derek Armstrong, a prominent figure in the hallways thanks to his goofy grin and boisterous personality. He's settled in nicely to the Kings front office and is proudly growing the game of hockey in Southern California.
But it wasn't always that way.

Armstrong, who was drafted 128th overall in 1992, was forced to walk away from hockey after playing professionally for 17 years when he incurred several serious concussions.
Like many, if not all professional athletes, Armstrong struggled to adapt to life outside the rink and felt the absence of structure and friendships that came with being part of a team.
"They say athletes die twice. You die when you leave the sport, and then you die when you die," said Armstrong. "I firmly believe that."
The adjustment from the rink to reality was not only a physical transition, but a mental one as well. Armstrong has been open about his own mental health struggles, which included anxiety and depression.
"I've always been a free-spirited guy and always happy, and I couldn't believe that those kinds of emotions could actually surface," said Armstrong.
While battling with these internal demons, Armstrong still had to put on a brave face for his wife and two kids, who are now 15 and 18. He was adjusting to being at home full-time, while still balancing the responsibilities of being a husband and a parent.
Four or five years ago he didn't think he'd ever feel like himself again.

"I lived my life in fear since I was 16 years old. You're scared to let your parents down, you're scared to let your coach down, you're scared to let the fans down, you're scared to let your teammates down."
Being in fight or flight mode for the better part of 20 years takes its toll on a body.
"It can absolutely cripple you. You're so vested in the sport and being the best in the world," said Armstrong. "It takes so much mental and physical ability to do it on a daily basis."
The fear would only disappear when the arena lights turned on, the crowd began to cheer, and his skates glided onto the ice for puck drop.

Without that outlet, he had to find new ways to channel his adrenaline and communicate with others through exchanging words, rather than punches.
"You hide what goes on inside from the world, because that's just how we've been our whole lives. You have a broken finger, you just play with it. You need stitches, you get stitched up on the bench and play with it. It's just part of the job."
After retiring, Armstrong couldn't watch a game on TV, let alone even look at his own gear.
He was forced to face the game sooner than expected when he received an offer to be the head coach of the Denver Cutthroats. It allowed him to appreciate all aspects of the game, however he had trouble coming to terms with his new role.
"I was getting panic attacks on the bench, and I couldn't tell anybody," said Armstrong. "The day you say you're done playing, so many people treat you differently. And that's a hard adjustment for a human being, because we're still the same person."

He was fortunate enough to find a great life coach that worked with retired athletes and a doctor who provided knowledge, support, and advised him to visit a military medical center in Bethesda, Maryland for further testing.
"I got clarification which helped me the most, so at least I knew what was going on with my body. Where, the first two years, I didn't even know what depression or anxiety was."
Armstrong believes that all athletes who played for a lengthy amount of time should go to a transition facility, or "hockey rehab" if you will. A place to learn life skills, set new goals, access valuable resources and relate to others who are going through the same thing.
"Guys that get to plan [their exit] might have it a little bit easier, but they're still going to have some demons they deal with," said Armstrong. "A lot of the guys that are Hall of Famers, they've been the best in the world, but they still have their own struggles as well."

Because in the real world, things aren't black and white like hockey is.
"There's no what-ifs in the hockey world. You either show up or you don't. Everything I did, every single day was to prepare for the practice the next day or the game," said Armstrong.
"I really was never ready to do anything else because I just wanted to play."
That changed when former teammate Luc Robitaille picked up the phone one day. Robitaille was looking for alumni to take part in the NHL-initiated Learn to Play program with the Kings.
Robitaille knew Armstrong would be the perfect fit due to his ability to relate to kids, being a grown-up version of one himself.
Now, after working with the Kings for several years, Armstrong is starting to come around. "There's a lot of things that I have to learn, but I'd never trade my life for anything," he said.
He enjoys playing hockey in a local league, and isn't afraid to just go out and have fun. Even though it may be a beer league, we can imagine his chirping is still national league level.
His new office at the Kings practice rink is adorned with inspirational quotes, photos of his playing days and is even equipped with a large flat screen tv... perfect for watching every game.

Armstrong admits there will always be a little bit of anger when he thinks about not reaching certain milestones in his career, but he's found peace with the game.
He's using his new perspective to make a difference by developing hockey both locally and around the world.
This year alone, the Kings Hockey Development Team has worked with twenty-five hundred kids.
"We go into some of these cities and these kids can barely skate, but by the end of they become Kings fans and they become hockey fans," Army said. "It is really rewarding to be able to do that."

As for what the future holds?
"Hopefully I'll continue to grow this great game."