When I was approached to write an article detailing my journey into the world of film and television, I must be honest with you, I’m not proud of it, but I rolled my eyes. 

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked, “how’d you get into acting?” I wouldn’t need a savings account.

If you’re reading this, credit is due to my ‘little’ brother Jackson. He was the one who encouraged me to tell this story on account of a good pal of his from University having a dream to run an online publication. So this is in essence the result of a string being pulled for a friend of a friend; a theme that will reoccur in my life and the lives of every successful person you have ever met.

It’s a bold statement but as they say it really is all about “who you know.”

If you’re a fan of the television show, "Letterkenny", you may recognize me as Reilly the, you guessed it, Hockey Player. 

The success of Letterkenny is lightning in a bottle, a perfect storm of friends making phenomenal content, the chemistry you see on screen is real. I’ve been very fortunate. All of my gigs have been collaborations with amazing creators and people who love their jobs.

For me, it was a matter of time.

Hockey has been so good to my family.

My father is an NHL coach currently employed as associate coach of the Edmonton Oilers. The childhood I had was filled with tape balls, smelly dressing rooms, mid-season cross country moves, summers at the cottage and the understanding that we cheered for whoever Dad was coaching (although I’ve always had a soft spot for the Oilers on account of them drafting my dad in 1982). Thank god we enjoyed the sport because much like a military brat, hockey moved our family of five around North America my entire childhood. Whenever dad would climb the latter towards the NHL we had to move.

From Fort St. James, BC to Dayton, Ohio...onwards to Kalamazoo, MI followed by Saint John, New Brunswick...and then off to Calgary, Alberta. From there, my brother Jackson and I moved to Penticton, BC to play Junior B hockey while the rest of the clan went to Abbotsford. After that, it was onto Merritt, BC for me...Spokane, WA for Jackson...Phoenix, AZ for mom and dad...then the Tri-Cities for my brother Austyn.

All these moves were brought to you by hockey. 

“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” my dad would tell me.

I knew I loved the game of hockey and wanted to play professionally. I knew the targets on the "Playfair" boys backs were larger because of our name and I knew nepotism was a word tossed around the political circles of the leagues we played in.

I didn’t care. I liked it.

That name gave me the best childhood I could have asked for. Dad helped us play hockey. We wanted to be just like him. The only pressure we felt was the pressure we put on ourselves to honour that name. When I was cut from the Merritt Centennials, a Junior A team in the BCHL, I was crushed.

I always knew I would study film once hockey was over.

I loved drama. I was a drama kid. I enjoyed acting class more than any other elective in high school. I enjoyed making the boys in the dressing room laugh.

I loved telling stories. 

When my hockey career ended I knew it was not a failure. Failure is only permanent once you quit trying. I didn’t fail at anything because I knew If I could endure the rigours of professional hockey, I could adapt those skills to endure the uncertainty of being a professional actor.

With that attitude and the unrelenting support of my family, I “packed my shit” and moved to Vancouver. I knew almost no one in the city and had never met an actor in real life. It was time for me to chase the dream...something I was familiar with already.

 In the summer of 2011 I moved to Vancouver to become an actor.

I had been to Vancouver once before to party with a good buddy from high school, Mitch Gallivan. He was going to the University of British Columbia (UBC). Merritt had lost out of playoffs, I was 19, Mitch had room on his dorm room floor and I had a case of beer and a sleeping bag.

This friendship would be the lynch pin to my new career.

The next time I was in Vancouver, Mitch had committed suicide. Then, another one of my childhood friends, Cody Legebokoff, was in jail with the title of, "Canada's Youngest Serial Killer". And like I said, my hockey career was over.

As dark as that time was, I was full of hope. 

This was a new beginning and my years playing hockey had prepared me for new beginnings. Every season, every game, every shift a clean slate. As much as the loss of Mitch and the betrayal of Cody hurt I knew I had a decision to make: Let this break my spirit or utilize it as fuel to move forward.

Again, hockey helped me wrap my head around loss.

When I left Merritt I told one of my teammates, Sylvan Harper, that I was moving to Vancouver to attend film school. His father, a film location manager, offered me a job working on film sets as a production assistant. 

It was on one of these sets, while sweeping cigarette butts off the parking lot that I met Ryan McDonald, a real life actor who would invite me to play, you guessed it, hockey with his pick up team.

It was there that I met Jared Keeso ("Wayne" on Letterkenny) and Nate Dales ("Daryl").

I was joining a lineage of hockey players turned actors and it was all because of the people I was meeting and the work I was putting in. I knew no one in the film industry until I decided I wanted to be in the film industry.

I attended every acting class I could afford. I asked for help from those who had gone before me and they gave it. That’s the thing about genuine passion; people can feel it and they want to help you. They were once in your position.

"It’s all who you know" was starting to make sense.

I was very fortunate to be in the right place at the right time when it came to the auditions I was going out for. For all the work put in at the beginning, once the ball started rolling, I kicked it over the hill.

I wish I had tapes of my first acting classes. They were not professional. I did not book my first audition, or my 15th. I was told "no" many times but I never considered “no” as a failure. I was mid-season, a rookie, I knew I had to work my way up from the minors. I used every hockey analogy in the book to get my mind right for the rigours of a career as a professional actor. I turned every misstep into a learning opportunity. I began to enjoy failing because I was learning. I got sharper every day and eventually I started booking roles. 

Every chance I got I ran with. 

I knew every producer hiring me had a problem that needed solving and they were paying me to solve it. I memorized my lines because I had to. That’s my job. I showed up for 20 hour days because I wanted to. That’s the job.

 If anyone ever tells you actors are overpaid they fail to mention the thousands of unpaid hours that go into becoming a working actor. The hours are insane. An 18 hour day is not uncommon. Night shoots are very common. You may work on one show then not again for a year. The uncertainty, criticism, vulnerability, the yada, yada, yada. It’s hard but anything worth having is worth fighting for.

Hockey conditioned me to love the process and all the work that goes on behind the scenes. Then, when the camera is on, you look like you belong.

I would elaborate on my thoughts on Letterkenny’s place in Canadian culture but I’m already over my 1500 word maximum. Maybe that’s a story for another day.

As long as the right people pull the right strings, that is.