Beating Imposter Syndrome: Lessons from an 18-Year-Old Hockey Player
By Mitchell Schuckman, PCC | Founder, The Schuckman Group
I have been a fan of the New York Islanders hockey team since day one in 1972. I lived through the dynasty years, the droughts, the near misses, and the rebuilds that did and did not work. Being an Islanders fan teaches patience and resilience whether you want those lessons or not.
So when the Islanders drafted Matthew Schaefer first overall and effectively handed the future to an 18-year-old defenseman this past year, I paid attention.
What I did not expect was that watching him would make me think about imposter syndrome in the workplace.
The Pressure of Being “The Future”
First overall pick, the future of the franchise, compared to legends before he has even played a full season. That kind of spotlight can send people into a spiral. Some shrink. Some overcompensate. Some try too hard to prove they belong.
So far, Matthew Schaefer has done none of that. He plays assertively. He carries the puck with confidence. He takes risks. And when he makes a mistake, which every rookie does, he goes straight to the bench, studies the replay, talks to the coach, nods, and goes back out.
No visible spiral. No ego. Just learning.
When I coach executives newly promoted into big roles, I often see the opposite.
The Silent Struggle in Senior Leaders
Imposter syndrome often looks competent and polished on the outside. But underneath, high performers often wonder whether they truly belong. They fear being exposed. They overprepare. They avoid asking for help. They double down on control because control feels safe.
Schaefer behaves like a rookie in the healthiest way possible. He is not trying to prove he is not a rookie. He assumes there is more to learn. He treats mistakes as information.
When learning becomes your identity and you accept your newness in a role, mistakes are not evidence that you are a fraud.
Confidence Without Arrogance
What stands out to me about Matthew Schaefer is not swagger. It is composure.
He plays like he belongs. He speaks like he is grateful to be there. He seeks feedback. He adjusts publicly. That combination is rare.
When he surpassed a mark once held by hockey legend Bobby Orr, he was asked about it and joked, “Who is that?” It was light. Unburdened. No sense that history was weighing him down.
Off the ice, you hear stories about how grounded his life is. He currently lives with former Islanders player Matt Martin and his wife Sydney. In a recent interview Schaefer readily acknowledged that Sydney helps him pack for road trips and keeps his life normal. He embraces the fact that stability and support in his life matters, without worrying what people might think.
In coaching conversations, I often tell executives that confidence is not the absence of doubt. It is the willingness to perform and adjust in full view of others.
Many leaders oscillate between insecurity and overcompensation. They shrink or puff up. What I see in this young hockey player is steadiness. Grounded enough to handle pressure. Humble enough to seek improvement.
That balance keeps imposter syndrome from taking hold.
Clarity Is About Altitude, Not Simplicity
Many high performers worry that simplifying will make them look less credible. They have spent their careers being rewarded for detail and thoroughness. But strong communicators start at a level the room can absorb, watch how it lands, and only go deeper if it’s needed. They are comfortable pausing, checking in, and adjusting rather than delivering everything they know.
I’ve noticed this same pattern in how I use ChatGPT. When a subject is unfamiliar, I ask for an explanation. If it’s still too complex, I’ll ask for it at a high school or grade school level and then work my way back up. The clarity comes from adjusting the level, not from changing the facts. In meetings, leaders have to do that work in real time. When it’s done well, it’s masterful, and it’s respectful to the audience.
Stay a Rookie Longer Than You Think You Should
Every week, I sit with accomplished leaders who quietly question whether they deserve to be in the room they are in. They assume their doubt is weakness. They assume asking for help signals deficiency. They assume experience should eliminate mistakes.
It does not.
Schaefer plays like he belongs and while accepting that he has plenty to figure out. The leaders who thrive do the same. They let themselves be coached. They try their very best while embracing their own evolution. They understand that one bad shift does not define a career.
Imposter syndrome fades when growth becomes more important than image.
The real question is not whether you belong. The real question is “are you still willing to be coached”?