There's a moment in every hockey fight where a guy drops his gloves. Everyone in the building understands it. Things are about to get real. Arber Xhekaj has a different version of that moment, and it has nothing to do with fighting. "Drop your knuckles," he told Bernie Marcotte when they sat down for Check On Your Teammates. "Drop your fists, and kind of open up to them."
Sit with that for a second. It's coming from one of the most physically imposing players on the Montreal Canadiens. A guy they call The Sheriff, whose whole reputation is built on staying hard and protecting everyone around him. And he's the one telling you to put your hands down.
What the people in the stands don't see is the weight that comes with the role. Eighty-two games. A market that puts you on billboards and picks apart every shift online. Fans who assume that if you made the NHL, you don't have bad days. "There's a lot of people that think when you play in the NHL, you have no bad days," he said. "But there's a lot more that goes into that."
He's talking about the comments you can't avoid when your face is everywhere. "Each comment is a subtle stab to you." He's talking about the nights the season gets heavy and you want to disappear. "There's been times I've felt like locking myself in my room and not talking to anybody." Even the guy people count on to be fearless. "I've felt like that, you know." So what does he do on those days? He talks to someone. No therapist's script, no big intervention. He reaches out. "I think just having one simple conversation will go a long way," he said. "I've had these conversations and I walk out feeling a million pounds lighter. And it makes a big difference." A million pounds lighter. That's the math on one honest conversation. You don't need the perfect room or a crisis to force your hand. You need one person willing to listen.
Bernie asked him something mid-conversation that stopped the room. You stick up for people all the time. Who sticks up for you? He didn't hesitate. "Friends and family. I stick up for people on the ice, but I have a lot of people that stick up for me off the ice." And he's that person too, for more than just the players.
Before one game, Bernie watched him move through warmups, and what stood out wasn't the skating. It was how he treated the trainers, the equipment guys, the people behind the scenes. Real warmth, none of it performed. "The team is beyond just the players," Arber said. "The staff, the equipment guys, the medical team, the guys behind the scenes. I treat everyone like I treat my teammates. You don't work for me. You're on my team. You're another one of my brothers."
That's the whole idea. Your team is never just the obvious people. It's your coworkers, your neighbors, the person who makes your coffee. Checking in isn't a hockey thing. It belongs anywhere people share space. He's clear that none of this makes him soft. He grew up in the sport and he knows the old code that says you never let anyone see inside. He's setting it down for good. "You don't gotta be this big macho guy off the ice. But off the ice, you gotta talk about these things to keep your head level. If you don't, you're gonna go crazy. It just puts more weight on yourself."
At the end, Bernie asked him to say something to anyone sitting in a dark place right now. His answer was short and exactly right. "Just talk to somebody. Because you're not alone. There's plenty of people that want to help you. And there's other people that are probably feeling the same way that you do." You're not alone. From the guy who drops his gloves for his teammates every night, and his knuckles when it actually counts.
There's a lot more in the full conversation. Watch it here and visit Check On Your Teammates