2024 – Corey Chevery | Mighty Ducks, garage sales and babysitting

You had to really love hockey.

At the age of 16, he packed his bags and went to play in another province for the first time. At 23, penniless, reinvent yourself and try a professional career. To work in kindergarten all day, practice at night and play matches without pay. Jumping on the back of the chair before the age of 30. Conduct midnight work sessions during the Olympic Games. Or to pack your bags for the third time, move to Montreal and lead a (real) professional team while learning a new language at full speed.

The history of the career of Cory Chevery, the head coach of the Montreal team of the Professional Women's Hockey League (LPHF), is somewhat breathless. Not in uniform, mind you. On a frosty Tuesday morning in late January, the discussion was warm, almost silent, in a cafe on Wellington Street, a stone's throw from Verdun Auditorium.

Over a cup of black coffee (he explains to us the nature of his drink in French), the 36-year-old manager is dynamic but not boring. An appearance like a handshake is resolved. We quickly realize that he takes all his time to answer questions, but he has no time to waste.

Since arriving in the metropolis at the end of the summer, work has taken up almost everything in his daily life. The day before our meeting, he spent a rare day exploring the city. He chose Old Montreal, which he regretted not exploring earlier, because he wanted to know the “history and heritage” of his adopted city.

However, this apprenticeship must be very part-time. Because building a team from scratch completely eliminates the concept of free time, even when this task is combined with the assistant coach of the national team.

When the players are not in the arena, the coaching staff can meet, analyze and plan.

“You have to make a real effort to separate yourself from work,” he says. It's difficult. »

However, it's hockey for work, and the burden is light when hockey is for life.

It is late

Born in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, Corey Chevery grew up playing baseball, basketball and football. At the end of his life, at the age of 10, he was engaged in hockey, which no one in his immediate family played.

He has loved skating for as long as he can remember. Describing the most Canadian scene imaginable, she says how she loves jumping into a frozen pond with her sister — “it's probably like a stream,” she laughs.

Ironically, the film franchise Mighty ducks (Strong game, in French) urges him to “prioritize” hockey. At that time, seeing girls playing on boys' teams moved him very little: it had been his reality since childhood.

Hockey combined everything he loved about sports. “I was very competitive, and I still am,” he says. I didn't like to lose. »

The problem, and it's a big one: hockey is very expensive. With a single mother of three, she made a deal: if young Corey raised enough money to buy the equipment, she would receive the registration as a gift.

So the little girl organized a garage sale, which brought her … $90. He found someone who sold him a bag of used items for that price. And the mother respected the end of the deal.

From his debut in organized hockey, it was evident that he was talented. “Organized” was definitely a big word to describe the New Glasgow women's side in the late 1990s. As a teenager, he joined the provincial team and then competed in the 2003 Canada Games as part of the same team. Delegation than a young man named Sidney Crosby.

At the event, he spotted some of his teammates preparing to play for Ontario. He decides to do the same and finishes high school away from home. In his native province, he studied criminology at St. Mary's University in Halifax.

At this point in the story, Press Noting that the Montreal team today has a coach with a degree in forensics and a career with the SPVM and the RCMP, Daniel Sauvjeau is no exception.

Cheveri smiles and says that they are getting along like thieves.

in Toronto

After a productive five-season career in varsity hockey, Chevery is at his best. Penniless and not even sure where he's going to stay, he packs up his car and leaves Nova Scotia to try his hand at the pros. Direction: Toronto.

Here, too, the meaning of the words should be clarified. The Canadian League, which operated from 2007 to 2019, had a good reputation, but it was only professional. Players were only paid the last two seasons of the rotation, and even then we're talking a few thousand dollars. “At least we didn't pay to play, which was nice,” he says without irony.

If against glamour, he experienced it. The 87-year-old was self-supporting by living with her maternal grandmother, working in a kindergarten, where she worked with her mother, an early childhood educator, every summer.

“It was really hard,” confirms he, who had to wait until 9:30 p.m. to practice with the Toronto Furies after a day of work.

In 2016, a few weeks before the 29th^e birthday, and while he was still succeeding on the ice, Cheverie decided to hang up his skates.

“I had to make a decision at some point in my career,” he says. It's a reflection that hundreds of other players his age have been forced into over the years. To continue or not? If yes, for how long? In what cases? After six years in the league, he was one of the most seasoned players: 152 matches in the season placed him 10th.^e place in circulation history.

Having worked as a coach in junior hockey, he saw that there were “opportunities” in this niche.

“I had a feeling the longer I waited, the more likely they would be there. I decided to go straight coaching, and it's my full-time job. It was a very good decision. »