<p>Hines wins hearts, minds on the ice and on the groundBy Bryant Urstandt
Special to ESPN.com</p>
<p>This article appears in the April 26 issue of ESPN The Magazine. </p>
<p>West Point hockey coach Brian Riley sends out dozens of recruiting letters, and usually ends up changing about eight lives. In fall 1998, Derek Hines got his letter. When he read it, he was probably sitting at the kitchen table in his family's cozy home near the cemetery in Newburyport, Mass., a little town by the sea. Out back on the lawn was the regulation hockey goal that Hines had dinged with a million shots off the post. </p>
<p>He was a typical kid in sneakers, with no particular obsessions about black patent-leather shoes, or shining them constantly. He wasn't from a military family, either. His father, Steven, was a state trooper, and his mother, Sue, had a window-dressing business that she ran out of their home. Younger brothers Michael and Trevor and sister Ashley didn't seem headed that way either. </p>
<p>The United States Military Academy comes out of nowhere for a lot of hockey recruits. Seth Beamer, Class of '06, a teammate who became Hines' good friend, got his letter three years later, in 2001. "War?" the senior forward says. "I didn't really think about it, except maybe that I was against it." But the Academy, and its hockey program, has a way of creating believers. </p>
<p>It's a true Division I program with a 100-plus-year history. The first hockey-playing cadets at West Point skated on a flooded field in front of the barracks in 1904. Today they skate at the regularly packed Tate Rink, with its 2,648 seats in Army black and gold, and ads on the boards from outfits like Boeing and General Dynamics. </p>
<p>And while they don't skate at the level of Wisconsin and Boston College, the Black Knights aren't far off. It's no surprise, for instance, to find that Bryce Hollweg -- one of this year's alternate captains -- has a brother, Ryan, who plays for the New York Rangers. Or that Brody Howatt, class of '99, is the son of former Islanders wing Garry Howatt. Or that Dan Hinote never made it to graduation. When he arrived at the Point in fall 1995, Hinote hoped the Academy would help him get an FBI job, but his plans changed when he was drafted by the Avs in 1996. He left school after his freshman year and ended up taking a victory lap with the Stanley Cup in 2001. </p>
<p>Hines had interest from a few other D1s, Holy Cross for one. He visited them, then went to West Point for a weekend and came back hooked. "They were so nice there," he told his father. "I felt like I was already on the team." In June 1999, Hines showed up on campus -- along with forwards Joe Dudek and Nic Serre and defenseman Kevin Emore -- with little more than a toothbrush. The Army would take their extra hair and issue them everything else they'd need. </p>
<p>The buzz cut was the first hint that this wouldn't be like playing hockey anywhere else. (You don't see any Canadians on the roster, which in college hockey is like playing without sticks. You don't see mullets, either.) Mullets have no place in the Army game. It's "high and tight" in all aspects of life. "There is an officer rep at every game," says forward Tim Murphy, '02, who played on a line with Hines for three years. "He stands behind the bench in full dress to make sure everything is done the Army way." That includes the Army way to store pads in lockers and to hold a stick during the national anthem (perfectly straight, blade on the ice, tilted to the right). </p>
<p>Other teams made fun of Army players, who were easy targets. Murphy remembers that the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy inspired dozens of put-downs, usually delivered during faceoffs. "We'd always hear, 'Hey, that must work out great for you guys.'" But Hines thrived. He was a blond kid with an infectious personality, small for a hockey player at 5-foot-6 and 165 pounds, but outsized in his passion for the game. He found a lot of guys in his mold. Not the biggest, not the most skilled, but bursting with energy. "We aren't a finesse team," Murphy says. </p>
<p>"We don't get the pretty boys with the moves. We get the hard workers, the ones who want to let the other team know we're in it." </p>
<p>On Oct. 15, 1999, Hines scored on his first shot -- in a road game against Bemidji State in Minnesota -- blasting down the right wing and driving to the net. His father was in the stands, beaming. Steven had been unsure if West Point would be right for his son, but he'd fallen in love with the place. </p>
<p>"If your son gives you half the thrills you've given me, you'll be a lucky man," he told Derek after the game. </p>
<p>And the cadets were becoming something besides teammates, too. Notions like service and duty and soldiering became the way they defined themselves. </p>
<p>"While you're there, it becomes so much more than hockey, there's something so real about it," says forward Nathan Mayfield, '02. </p>
<p>Exactly what kind of soldier, though, is up to each cadet. They're committed to the military, but West Pointers have some choice about the careers they want. Most significantly, they can head toward or away from action on the ground. A cadet, for example, could choose -- or "branch" -- finance, which pretty much leads to a desk job. Most of the hockey players, though, branch field artillery, which is what Hines did. That means driving tanks, humping packs and crawling through the mud and sand. Maybe they're braver, or maybe they're worse at math. Either way, they head for the action. </p>
<p>And after 9/11, they knew they were going to see some. As it did with everything in the U.S., that day had an effect on the team. The Army squad travels to games in a black-and-gold-trimmed bus. During the Vietnam War, people flipped the bird as the bus drove by. After the World Trade Center towers fell, the bus was like a traveling beacon-of-freedom mobile. It cruised down the highway to horns honking, kids waving and flags popping out of car windows. </p>
<p>Instead of insults during faceoffs, Murphy got postgame thank-yous from opponents. Refs came by after games, wanting to shake hands with the team.</p>