Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/112773
T his is not a story about a high-profile hockey prima donna, or a celebration of a team achieving glory and triumph. It is instead a tale about a young man deep in the throes of struggle, the mixed blessings of having an exceptional hockey pedigree, and the ironic joy that can come with anonymity. It begins far away from the game's bestknown hubs. On the ice in Bozeman, Mont., in a barn that's anything but a palace, the teammates of our main subject refer to him simply as "Jude." He's a stocky, soft-spoken 19-year-old from Minnesota with a distinctive jawline that seems to run in the family. He decided to play in the Tier III American West Hockey League for the same reason hundreds of other lads his age do: to get enough quality ice time and real game experience at the Junior level so that one day, just maybe, he'll make a college roster. Here, at this point in our story, it's perhaps important to mention another detail: On the back of Jude's jersey above his number—29—happens to be one of the most famous surnames identified with our sport. Both his father, Brett Hull, and grandfather, Bobby "the Golden Jet" Hull, are in the Hockey Hall of Fame, legendary for their blistering shots, charismatic personalities and prolific ability to score goals. When Jude was nearing his fifth birthday in 1999, his dad notched the Stanley Cup winner for the Dallas Stars. But even today, as Brett will tell you based upon his own personal experience, being the son of a Hull offers no coattails that guarantee a free ride. Jude doesn't take shots; he blocks them, and over the course of this 2012-13 season, he and close friend John Slavik, with whom he shares goaltending duties, have faced an unbelievable barrage. For teams taking on the hard-luck Icedogs, it's been a veritable shooting gallery of opportunity. By the time this season ends, with Hull and Slavik starting in about 24 games apiece, each goalie will be peppered with around 1,400 shots, or more than 50 on average, per game. In just two consecutive contests in December, young Mr. Hull, for example, faced nearly 170 shots. Long ago, the Icedogs, which have suffered several double-digit losses, realized they wouldn't be contending for the league title or even making the playoffs. At the halfway mark, they were an imperfect 0-25 in the category of futility. Hull went home to Stillwater, Minn., for Christmas break having faced enough rubber to leave any- Photos By Karl Neumann (left); Getty images; Tom Kimmell one feeling shell-shocked and dispirited. "A lot of guys having a season like this, at any level, would've stopped trying, quit or not returned," says Icedogs Coach Steve Harrison, a former pro scout who has experience coaching in the upper echelons of Canadian Junior hockey. "Jude and John have demonstrated rare character. They never give up. They've never asked to be pulled when the score got ugly. They're out there every night trying to rally the boys to get a win." On January 19, playing on the road in the natural gas and coal mining boomtown of Gillette, Wyo., the winless streak finally ended after 33 games. With Hull enduring a blizzard of 53 shots, he led the 'Dogs to their first "W" of the season. After the buzzer sounded, a fan could have mistaken the euphoria for a team winning Lord Stanley's Cup. When Hull was contacted for a reaction, in typical teenager style he responded with a text message: "You could say that the team really battled hard and finally got to see what it was like playing a full 60 minutes. The reward was very sweet and now that we have a taste we're not going to stop battling every game." H H H The real question, indeed the most meaningful one in an age when so much success in competitive sports is measured by individual accomplishment, win-loss records and championships, is what motivates Jude Hull and makes him stand out? The answer may be surprisingly simple: He's grounded, his elders say, in the stuff that matters. From out-of-the-way Bozeman, located in the heart of the northern Rockies, Hulls stays in contact with his folks by phone. "When he calls home and tells me he faced 60, 70, sometimes even more shots in a game, I used to think he was kid- The surname Hull is synonymous with goal-scoring excellence. Above, Brett and father Bobby during a Hockey Hall of Fame induction ceremony in Toronto. Below, Jude and his sisters accompany their father to Colorado Springs, where Brett was honored by USA Hockey in 2003. ding, but it's not unusual with this team," explains his mother Alison Curran. "He'll say, 'Mom, I let in a bunch of goals' but he's still having fun." Having to cope with the shadow cast by Bobby, Brett is glad that Jude isn't a forward. "Being a goalie he's got nothing to live up to, no comparisons to grandpa or to me. He's just a guy in the net stopping pucks," his dad says. (Jude's parents are divorced but remain on good terms. Brett lives in Dallas, Alison near the Twin Cities.) This third-generation Hull didn't come to Bozeman expecting to receive any kind of preferential treatment because of his name. "My sense of him is that he'd rather people not know who his dad and grand- "My sense of him is that he'd rather people not know who his dad and granddad are. It's not that he's not proud to be Brett's son, but he wants to make his own mark, for himself..." — Steve Harrison, Icedogs Coach USAHOCKEYMAGAZINE.COM March. 2013 31