Eye on the Goal

"I call 9:30 sleeping in," he says, sounding a bit miffed. Later, he explains that he sometimes feels irritated by the perception of some of his peers that he's spending his gap year lazing around. "People will ask my girlfriend, 'What is he doing?' and she says, 'Oh, he's playing hockey.' And they don't understand the full picture, what I'm doing when I'm not playing hockey." Initially, Bill says he was envious of the fun and freedom his friends were experiencing in college because the season hadn't gotten into full swing yet, and he was bored. But then he got a girlfriend, and he got the hang of his job, "and it all came into place," he says.

As Bill settles in with Shayne and another friend, Shayne starts giving his unsolicited opinion on Bill's future, saying he should consider a "postgraduate" year at a boarding school, a tactic than can net an Ivy League acceptance letter. "You could go to Yale," Shayne says. "Then we'd be 10 miles apart."

IN THE WASHINGTON AREA, INTEREST IN THE GAP YEAR is such that parents at Walt Whitman High School in Bethesda recruited Bull from the Center for Interim Programs to help lead a seminar in March. The panel featured a 2001 Whitman alum, Lauren Clark, who spent her gap year in Ghana teaching English and in Italy studying art, before attending Tufts University. Now she is a communications manager for a Maryland investment firm that pours money into developing countries.

"I was burned out," Clark, 24, says, and her grades fell during her junior year. "I wasn't able to concentrate on school- work anymore."

She put aside the college application process during her senior year and spent all her time concentrating on her Advanced Placement courses to boost her grades. She knew she wanted a year off after high school, and she would deal with colleges then. But what would she do during her time off? Bull helped her map out a year in Africa and Italy.

"She asked me, 'If you could do anything in the world, what would you want to do?' " Clark recalls. "I knew I wanted to travel. I wanted to be outside the U.S. and do something community service oriented. I wanted to challenge myself and go outside my comfort zone."

Bull found a program called Global Routes that placed Clark in Ghana, where she lived with a host family and taught English to middle school students. Clark raised money to help build a one-room library for the community. During the second half of the year, she traveled with a London-based university program throughout Italy studying art history, an interest she credits to her father, a historic preservation lawyer, and mother, a ballet teacher. When Clark applied to college, she didn't have to think too hard about what she would write about for her essay.

"I got into every school I applied to except Stanford," Clark says. "I got a letter from Tufts commending me for my work. The dean of admissions wrote a note saying congratulations and 'What a great job you did in Ghana.' And that's where I ended up."

Sara Nawaz, a graduate of the private Potomac School in McLean, also decided to take a gap year abroad, deferring her admission to Swarthmore College last year so she could pick up Spanish by attending high school and college courses in Argentina. Sara cultivated a yen for foreign travel during childhood, when her parents took her on trips spanning several continents. Instead of using a gap year consultant, she researched on the Internet and settled on AFS Intercultural Programs (formerly American Field Service), an exchange program that places students in high schools and colleges around the world. She wanted total immersion, a chance to investigate and blend into another world.

"The idea of learning another language and living in another culture and getting into it more than just a tourist really appealed to me," Sara says from her host family's home in Salta, a city in northwestern Argentina.

But, she says, the program is not for everyone. "I know a lot of people that have come here, and it wasn't the best choice. They're way too immature," she says. "They're not outgoing enough. They're too shy."

Her mom, Kathleen, a senior project leader for the National Renewable Energy Laboratory, has seen her daughter mature considerably over the last year. "She hasn't changed in a dramatic way, but she's more intellectually curious," she says. "She's become more solid in her values. She's a kinder, more sensitive person. That's what maturity is, getting away from self-focus."

AFTER MULLING WEST POINT'S SUGGESTION, Bill decides to try for a higher-level team in the junior leagues for a second gap year. He's getting recruitment letters from some powerhouses, including the Des Moines Buccaneers in the USHL, at the time the defending champions of the nation's best junior league. Bill isn't sure what's next for him after the junior leagues.

The prospect of Bill attending West Point is dispiriting to some of his Junior Nationals teammates. "None of us know what the deal with that is. I think his dad is pushing him to go," says Patrick Cullen, the team's highest scorer.

Tom readily concedes that he's influenced his son to attend West Point. When the Days lived in New York, they attended numerous hockey games at the school. He knows the rigor of West Point and believes that, if his sons are up for it, it's the best choice. "Would I like to see both of my sons go there? Yes, I would," Tom says. But "if it's not the right fit for Bill, and if it's not what he really wants to do, then, no. It can be an unforgiving place."

At a February home game at The Gardens Ice House in Laurel, Bill's parents' enthusiasm for West Point is on display. Bill's mother appears to have no qualms about the military service requirement.

"You cannot think about that -- 'Oh, my gosh, am I going to go to Iraq?' Just don't think about it," she says. "You have to think about your duty. Everybody has a car accident, and not everyone dies."

Tom chimes in. West Point "told Bill that they love his offensive vision, but they want to know if he can a handle a 6-foot-9, 180-pound guy."

A few minutes later, Bill pummels a guy into the boards -- the high wall fencing the rink. " That's what they're looking for," Tom says in a guttural voice. "He's got to do more of that. It's more of an attitude."

Bill and a teammate gear up before the game against Hudson Valley in New Hampshire.(Scott Robinson)

IN MID-MARCH, BILL AND HIS TEAMMATES HEAD TO THE AJHL PLAYOFFS AT CYCLONES ARENA IN HUDSON, N.H., which offer an enticing reward for the teams who win two games: a chance to play the following weekend at Harvard University in the league's final four, where numerous scouts from prominent schools will attend. The Junior Nationals score a big upset and make the cut.

But the next weekend, at Harvard's Bright Hockey Center, they lose. The season is officially over. Now, Bill's full attention is focused on whether he can land a spot on a USHL team in the spring. If he doesn't, would he play for a second- or third-ranked league such as the Eastern Junior Hockey League (EJHL)? And in case the leagues don't make a decision on him until late June, would U-Va. give him more time to decide whether to enroll this fall? And if he can't wait until summer, could he at least get a second year to defer?

At U-Va., dean Blackburn says that about 25 students out of 3,100 who matriculate as freshman request one-year deferrals, and most are granted. But only one or two students a year ask for a second year, he says, and those are mainly doing missionary work or completing military service requirements in other countries.

They're usually told to reapply. "It would be unusual for us not to approve a request for deferral a second time," Blackburn says. "But it seems to get a little tougher every year. On the other hand, we admitted this guy. We wanted him, so we'd probably say, 'Sure, let's go ahead.' "

Bill's persistence pays off. In mid-April, he receives a letter from Blackburn, who grants him until the end of December to decide whether he will enroll in the fall of 2008.

"By the end of the first [gap] year, the person really knows the ropes," Blackburn says. "So the second year would be more valuable, and the person would be more effective in what he or she is doing."

Other admissions officials say they might not have been so generous. "Is this student deferring because he wants to try and get in somewhere else?" asks Charles Deacon, the dean of admissions at Georgetown University. "Are you holding his spot so he can get into Harvard? I'll give this kid credit for his honesty, but he wants to have his cake and eat it, too."

IN EARLY MAY, WITH THE HOCKEY SEASON OVER, Bill has more time to concentrate on his part-time job in Vienna, where he works for Contemporary Electrical Services. Bill got the job through a hockey friend's father, who is the company's president, and he saves most of the $15-an-hour wage for whatever he may need in the future. His parents have already saved enough money for his college.

The company's offices are extremely quiet, except for the sound of a fax-machine beeping. On this day, Bill is using an array of highlighters to count the types of outlets needed for office spaces for the National Committee for Quality Assurance. With the floor blueprints before him, Bill is scrutinizing each mysterious-looking symbol on the page to determine what kind of electrical fixture it stands for. Once he's done, he asks his project manager, Michael Jamison, to make sure he did not miss anything.

"Let's see what we got here," Jamison says, as he is perusing Bill's work. "Oh! There are some type-'C' fixtures there . . . and one dedicated receptacle there."

Bill immediately pulls out an orange highlighter and dutifully colors in the symbol denoting the fixture. The job could be viewed as a glimpse into the kind of life Bill would have were he to chuck the idea of college. But there's no danger of that, he says. "From the way I was raised, from what my parents have taught me, you need to go . . . There's no other option. You need college to get a real job." Furthermore, "I know after college, I am not going to be able to play hockey," Bill says. "I'm going to have to go on and get a job. Maybe in business."

His gap year is winding down. Has it taught him anything? Has he matured in any way?

Bill replies that his job at the electrical company has helped him grasp how work can be painstaking, slow and not immediately rewarding. He sees his father's career at the Postal Service in a new light. "At my job, I kinda respected the work my dad does, how much time goes into it," he says. He also appreciates his mother more, he says. "When I was in school, I didn't see what she did, like do all the laundry and cook all the food. This year, I saw what she did and how she found time to do it."

His dad, however, says that Bill's year off would have been better if he had lived away from home, taking care of his own needs. But Bill has learned how to balance responsibilities and keep himself on track instead of relying on his parents, Tom says. If Bill plays hockey with another team next year, he'll gain the experience of living away from home before college. "We just ran into one of his friends from high school, and he dropped out of college. If they haven't learned about time management and discipline, you can go to college and just bomb out."

FROM: PATTY

any updates on the draft yet?

To: Patty

Nope

It's May 15 -- draft day for the USHL -- and Bill is busy text-messaging with his teammate Patrick Cullen. Right now, Cullen is taking an Advanced Placement exam and Bill is at work, looking at office blueprints and checking the USHL Web site to see how he is faring in the draft. If he doesn't get drafted, he knows he has a spot on the New Jersey Hitmen, a team in the EJHL. That league is more established, and since its teams are in the Northeast, he believes just as many elite college scouts will see him play.

But it's not the USHL, which he prefers, he says, because he wants to play with the country's very best hockey players and because its reputation leaves no doubt in the minds of college scouts that he is ready for a Division I team. Bill, somewhat agitated, if not slightly embarrassed, remains hopeful. "Chicago seems like where I could end up," he says. He believes the team there is looking for high-scoring defensemen like him. "They did awful last year."

Minutes into the draft, Cullen gets selected -- he's the fourth pick in the first of 18 rounds, a clear sign he'll be a prospect for the National Hockey League. Bill starts getting antsy, so he turns his attention to the blueprints on his desk. Atlantic Media Co. is building a new office at 600 New Hampshire Ave. NW, and Bill is using a green highlighter to mark all the circuits. "It's not the end of the world if I don't get drafted," he says, preparing himself for disappointment.

He can't sit still. Minutes later, he checks the computer again. Nothing. The second round closes, then the third. He sees someone get drafted by the Indiana Ice in the third round. "This kid," Bill says. "I played against him. He's not that good."

Round after round, Bill fields anxious text messages from his father and girlfriend, but every time he hits the "refresh" button, another guy's name from some other city pops up on the screen.

He leaves work early to go home, where his mother has made him sushi. He scarfs the rolls down with some milk. Then, he goes upstairs and checks the Web site again. It's the 10th round.

"God. This is hard to watch," he says. "It's just boring. It sucks. God. This is brutal. I gotta do something. I cannot sit around."

Bill takes off for the gym. But after the day is over, he learns that he was not picked after 18 rounds. A few days later, though, some USHL teams invite him to their tryouts in June. Bill accepts an offer to audition for the Ohio Junior Blue Jackets, but he knows his chances are slim. Out of about 24 defensemen invited, Bill says, the team will take about eight.

After he gets home from the tryout in June, Bill is somewhat mournful. "I got cut," he says. "I played my style. I didn't give up any goals. I know one of the kids who made it. I'm definitely better than him. I am trying to understand what the coaches are thinking."

And so, he's off to Wayne, N.J., home of the New Jersey Hitmen. It's not the best league or best team, but seven of its players this past season signed with Division I schools to play hockey for the coming season, including one who's going to Yale.

So, one gap year down, one to go.

Ian Shapira is a staff writer for The Post's Metro section. He can be reached at shapirai@washpost.com.

For advice on whether and how to take a gap year, see the article in today's Metro section and join Ian Shapira and others for a discussion Monday at noon at http://washingtonpost.com/liveonline. In addition, find back-to-school features, multimedia and discussions through the month of August at http://washingtonpost.com/backtoschool.