If the University of Maine hockey team advances to the NCAA Final Four, the Black Bears will take the ice at The Pond in Anaheim, Calif., and 17,174 fans will watch their every move.

Paul Culina never played in a hockey Final Four. But if the Black Bears are looking for some help, feeling a bit of stage fright, they might want to sidle up to their athletic trainer for a bit of advice.

Culina could tell the Bears what it was like to stride onto a stage in Mexico in the 1980s. To look out into a jam-packed soccer stadium. To see 100,000 faces staring back at him.

“It was unreal,” Culina said, describing his yearlong tenure in one of five globe-trotting Up With People troupes.

“We were like rock stars down there. You come up here and people say, `Oh, Up With People. It’s that show that all the old ladies go to.”‘

But in Mexico, in a sold-out tour of stadium shows sponsored by Coca-Cola, the group led off for a star named Yuri, and was greeted enthusiastically by people who embraced the underlying message of hope.

“We really souped the show up a little bit,” Culina said.

The 31-year-old Auburn native is finishing his fourth season as the athletic trainer for hockey at UMaine.

For him, the job is an ideal fit. Growing up, he treated the drums as “a strong hobby.”

But hockey was different.

“I think I was a little more serious with the hockey than I was with the music,” he said.

Culina took his hockey talents to Norwich University in Northfield, Vt., and found out that some advice he’d received remained just as dubious in college as it had been growing up.

“I actually had a drum teacher and a hockey coach who told me, `You can’t do both. You’re gonna have to choose,”‘ Culina said. “I refused to choose.

And even in college, I was in the band and played hockey.”

That made things interesting during games, as the band played music while their drummer played hockey.

“I saw the band up in the stands and I waved to my friends,” Culina said with a laugh. “I was guaranteed to have 30 fans, anyway.”

In his second year at Norwich, he attended an Up With People show, took part in the post-concert interview session, and decided to try out.

His parents thought a leave of absence from Norwich would turn into a permanent exit from college.

“I was going to have to take two years off to earn the moneCulina said.

In the end, he took the time off, after promising his parents he’d return.

Then he embarked on a tour that took him to New Zealand, Australia, and Mexico.

Things went well for the most part, but Culina did learn that a performer’s life could be unpredictable.

Like in Mexico, when his group was preparing for its first rehearsal in the country. Rehearsal never took place that day.

“We saw our entire lighting truss fall to the ground,” he said, explaining that the truss, with more than 200 lights attached, weighed close to 10,000 pounds.

“Ten minutes later, we would have all been on stage, and probably would have had a lot of us killed,” Culina said.

Then he learned first-hand what the entertainers’ creed really means. The show had to go on. And it was up to he and his colleagues to make it happen. In Up With People, there are no roadies. A star during the show might be in charge of lunch detail the next afternoon.

“Immediately, change of plans,” Culina said. “Instead of rehearsal this morning, we’re gonna see how many lights we have left and try to figure out how we’re gonna get this thing up for the 25,000 people who are gonna be crashing that gate.”

After his tour, he did more than graduate: Culina earned his masters degree in education.

After stints at Norwich and Bowdoin, Culina jumped at the chance to move to a Division I program.

Bowdoin’s loss has been Maine’s gain, as the low-key Culina has made himself popular with the Black Bears.

“He can help us, whether it be physical or mental,” junior center Cory Larose said before allowing _ good-naturedly _ that roommate Bobby Stewart might be a big challenge for the trainer.

“Stewie’s problems are mostly mental,” Larose said. “Paul’s real good at getting people straight that way.”

Culina reluctantly likens the role of a modern athletic trainer to that of an HMO. He treats what he cans and refers the rest.

And sometimes, he does things that aren’t really in his job description.

Like when an interview is interrupted by an assistant coach _ on skates _ looking for someone to find a training aid that has been misplaced.

After his Up With People tour, he’s used to things like that.

“You see?” Culina asked later. “The duties [of a trainer] have evolved. `You’re the guy without the skates, so do you mind doing this?”‘