The Time We Forfeited the AAA High School Quarterfinal Championship Game - And Why I’d Do It Again

Every coach, player, and parent who has been part of a championship-caliber hockey team knows the emotional investment that comes with a deep playoff run. The excitement, the nerves, the preparation—all leading toward that ultimate goal of winning a title. Our coaching staff had poured everything into this team, and we had just earned a hard-fought victory in the quarterfinals. The semifinal was just days away, and we had a fantastic practice leading up to it. Everything was moving in the right direction.

Then, two veteran players approached my coaching partner and I with a question that would turn our season upside down:

"Did you know that [Name Withheld] isn’t even registered at the school anymore?"

At first, we laughed it off. It had to be a joke, right? The player in question had been with us all season. We had seen him in the halls between classes. He had just scored the game-winning goal in our quarterfinal victory. There was no way he wasn’t actually a student anymore.

Except…it turned out he wasn’t.

The Shocking Discovery

As soon as those players raised the concern, we started digging. We needed to be sure. We immediately contacted our school principal to verify the player's enrollment status. That night, I went through the entire school year’s worth of school memos that listed students who had been "off roll"—no longer officially registered. His name wasn’t there.

Early the next morning, we met with the principal. That’s when we learned the full story.

The player in question hadn’t registered for the second semester. Apparently, he was still coming to school, but only to hop on the bus for games. Because our season started in the first semester and finished in the second, no one had caught it. The system didn’t flag him. The school never informed us. And certainly, we as coaches had no idea.

But now that we knew, we couldn’t ignore it.

Doing the Right Thing

We immediately contacted the athletic board, hoping against hope that there might be some way to salvage the situation. Maybe there was a procedural loophole, some mitigating factor we hadn’t considered. But deep down, we knew. There was no getting around it: we had played an ineligible player.

We had to forfeit.

Before the official decision came down, we called a team meeting. Some of the players—particularly the two who had uncovered the truth—weren’t surprised. But the rest? Shocked. Angry. Confused.

Some players were furious with their now-former teammate. Others were upset with us. Some parents even reached out, frustrated that we would voluntarily report ourselves when, in their words, "no one would have ever known."

That last sentiment was the hardest to hear. Because while technically true—maybe no one outside our team would have ever known—we would have known.

And that was enough.

The Verdict

The next morning, we got the official word: our season was over. The team we had beaten in the quarterfinals would be reinstated. The semifinal was quickly rescheduled, and that team, given a second chance, took full advantage of it. I honestly don’t remember if they went on to win the championship and advance to provincials. By that point, it didn’t matter.

What did matter was the response from our players, their parents, and even some of our coaching colleagues.

Some players—especially those who had been with us for multiple seasons—thanked us for doing the right thing. Parents reached out, not to criticize but to commend us for showing integrity. Those were the moments that made the heartbreak easier to swallow.

But there were also other responses—colleagues who told us, without shame, that we were crazy. That they would have never turned themselves in. That they would have let it slide, won the game, and kept quiet.

That was scarier than anything else.

The Long-Term Perspective

Years have passed since that season. The sting of losing that championship opportunity is long gone, and in its place is something more meaningful: pride.

I’m proud of the decision we made. I’m proud that our coaching staff set the right example for our players. And I’m even more proud of the players who recognized the issue and came forward. They could have stayed silent. They could have let it slide. But they chose honesty over convenience.

As for those colleagues who thought we were nuts for forfeiting? I wonder what they’d say now, with the benefit of hindsight. Would they still insist that cheating—because, at the end of the day, that’s what it would have been—was worth it?

What Would You Have Done?

So here’s my question to you: what would you have done in the same situation?

Would you have followed the same path, knowing the consequences? Would you have looked the other way and taken your chances?

Hockey is a sport built on trust, teamwork, and respect. But it’s also a sport that challenges character in ways that go beyond the ice. Moments like these reveal who we really are—not just as coaches or players, but as people.

For me, it was never really a question. We did the right thing. And I’d do it again.

Ed Garinger is a seasoned hockey coach, mentor, and educator with over two decades of experience. A native of the Bruce Peninsula, he played minor and junior hockey before earning his BA and BEd from Nipissing University, where he also competed in varsity volleyball and extramural hockey.

Coaching since age 14, Ed has balanced his teaching career with an extensive coaching and development portfolio, working with players at all levels. He has coached in the Provincial Junior Hockey League, led youth and high school teams, and served as a learning facilitator for the OMHA. His experience includes elite programs like the OHL/OHF U15 and U16 camps, U17 Regional Camps, and Hockey Canada’s Skills Academy.

A Hockey Canada HP1-certified coach, USA Hockey-certified coach, and Chartered Professional Coach (ChPC), Ed is committed to ongoing professional development and continually seeks to expand his knowledge to better serve players and coaches. Now based in Orillia, he enjoys passing on his passion for hockey to the next generation.