Motivation Quote by Herb Brooks

Brooks is doing something sly here: he’s refusing the myth of the all-knowing, stone-faced coach and swapping it for a more combustible identity - part adult authority, part kid still chasing the pure hit of the game. Coming from the architect of the 1980 “Miracle on Ice,” the line reads less like nostalgia than a management philosophy disguised as confession. He’s aligning himself with his players not by flattening the hierarchy, but by admitting he runs on the same fuel: pride, impatience, competitiveness, wonder.

The phrase “sort of” is doing quiet work. It’s a hedge that keeps him credible as a leader while still signaling intimacy. And “little boy” isn’t sentimentality so much as motive power: the stubbornness to believe you can beat an empire, the willingness to be obsessed, the appetite for risk that mature institutions tend to sand down. Brooks coached at a moment when American hockey needed a narrative as much as a system. The Soviet machine represented discipline, repetition, adult seriousness. Brooks countered with discipline of his own, but he sold it through emotional permission: play hard, care too much, want it like a kid wants it.

Subtext: he’s telling you why his methods could be relentless. If you still have a “little boy” in you, you don’t just teach; you prod, you dare, you make it personal. It’s also a self-defense against the loneliness of authority. By claiming kinship with the players, Brooks turns leadership into shared appetite - and makes obsession sound like loyalty.