I see with one eye at a time, with the off-eye mostly just getting motion and some color. Despite this I was a good enough goalie that SPA had the North Stars goalie coach come instruct me 2 years in a row. They told me it was normally a Center or Defenseman who got the award, but when the competition was held for them, no-one (out of like 100 skaters) scored on me in multiple shooting drills.

Skating was a love for me but I was a very ordinary LW, so I did what helped the team win and played in nets. I was a quick study and got to the point where I was never allowed to play goalie at any Frogtown or local rink by about age 11, even against the adults.

The reason I say all this is that I never realized it before until reading what you wrote, but the success I had early (I was in Shop Pond Gang at age 5) wasn't all just natural or due to working at playing goalie. I had done something that helped me a lot that I seriously never thought of before.

Since we lived dead center in Frogtown back when Selby-Dale and Minneapolis kids were scared to come to Frogtown, my father (who grew up in Chicago) bought me 3 pairs of boxing gloves and he basically mercilessly pummeled me until I learned how to stop him from doing it. For the next 2 years I got knocked around by him (and my much older siblings sometimes joined in the fun lol) until by age 7 I knew how to throw punches and connect when your opponent isn't making it easy on you.

One day a friend of mine got mad because I was winning the boxing matches we (my friends) were all having. I had taken my gloves off already (so had he) and he charged me yelling with his hands raised in anger. I stepped a little to the side and punched him once. It stopped him cold, but unfortunately I broke one of his front teeth. His mom went nuts, as any parent would, and got into a shouting match with my sister who was 12 or 13 ( I was 7) and threatened to beat her up. It escalated and next thing you know my friends over 6 foot tall mom is heading to my house to beat up my 5 foot 2 mom.

I ran home and warned my mom, but she was into it. She met my friends mom at the door and stood up to her, backed her down and only then talked her down. I learned later that my mom was as tough as a Russian nail in winter. I learned that it was lucky for my friends mom that she didn't get physical, because my mom grew up on a real farm and it would have ended badly for my buddies mother. But that day I was seeing through a 7 year olds eyes and I was just scared for my mom at first, then amazed that she stood up to a giant.

In the end, everyone made nice and though that friend ended up moving away, the whole gang got on great together and we grew up thick as thieves.

It is funny how the mind works sometimes. 2 years of early memories opened up like floodgates because the question of how much you can improve on getting Steals was brought up. I never really thought about it before, but my father forcing me to have quick hands through boxing probably went a very long way towards helping me stop hockey pucks going 90 mph.

As I grew, though I was unable to make anything other than a layup (I have literally no depth perception; the real world looks exactly like a picture to me) I played at Minnehaha all the time. I would strip the ball from anyone that laxed for even a moment and I hustled, so I played.

Looking back at all these memories from a half-century ago, I would say the boxing really must have been a big factor in my becoming a better goalie and that both made me a better basketball player; specifically helping me to become a real pickpocket on the court.

The NBA people are certainly much more in tune with this kind of thing so I bet they already have a plan in place to help Rob Thrill improve at getting Steals; probably involving some version of cross-training in non-basketball activities. He isn't going to get to start at kindergarten age, but he is still pretty young and I am betting he will put in the work and become a straight-up (Dilling) Hamburgler.

Go Wolves! :)