Judging by the placards at the Republican convention, Sarah Palin’s most trumpeted credential is not governor, or mayor.

It’s hockey mom.

As a longtime hockey parent myself, I have great respect for this.

And it’s got me thinking how it may well give critical preparation for the White House.

Start with equipment.

Early in the Iraq war, there was a scandal over troops not having all they needed –– not enough body armor or shielded Humvees.

This would have never happened had a hockey parent been in the White House.

I doubt there’s another sport, including football, with as much equipment. I’m convinced the only reason the SUV market hasn’t dried up completely is that hockey parents still buy them. They need the room for gear-bags, most of which are the size of small couches. Try putting two of those in a Mini Cooper.

Hockey parents learn quickly that you can’t overlook a single item. If your children have no mouth guard, they sit. Leave behind a shin-pad, glove, elbow pad –– they sit. Forget tape, their socks fall down. Forget skate guards, they can’t walk from parking lot to rink. There’s also an essential piece of plastic under-protection you always need. You learn early as a hockey parent to never send troops into battle without body armor.

And you have to keep the equipment current. If I look back, my wife and I spent the equivalent of two weeks a year in Manny’s Hockey Shop. The need to resupply is nonstop. Former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld once famously said, “You don’t go to war with the army you want; you go to war with the army you have.” Hockey parents would never be that casual. They make sure the skates always fit.

A key to a successful presidency is keeping a demanding schedule. Hockey parents know about this. With some sports, like soccer, you give the kids a 10-minute warning, tie their cleats and you’re out the door. With hockey, you need to bring the bags in from the garage two hours before departure to let them thaw. Eighty minutes before ice time, you start suiting them up, always difficult with children trying to watch Nickelodeon over your shoulder. Parents who have routinely forced skates onto the feet of resistant kids would have no problem trying to push legislation onto a resistant Congress.

Finally, you learn to factor in travel time to distant rinks and always get there well in advance of the puck being dropped. Hockey parents don’t miss deadlines.

They say a president has to be good at cleaning up a mess during chaos. There are few messes more chaotic than 23 kids stripping off equipment after a game in a small locker area built for 10. The floor is a sea of pads, gloves, sticks and socks. Somehow, hockey parents learn to sift through it all and make it out the door with all their own stuff. A few times, I forgot my children at rinks, but I never forgot their shin guards, and I’m proud of that.

They also say a key skill for a president is endurance. Hockey parents know about this. First of all, it’s the longest of all seasons. Some sports, like baseball, last about two months. Hockey goes six. Actually, 12, because youth hockey never stops. Have you ever seen moms on a hot August day in down parkas? They just spent the morning in an ice rink for a summer league.

It’s also a test of whether, as with a president, you are ready to sacrifice normal life for a greater cause. For some reason, almost all high school hockey games are scheduled on weekends. For parents, that means the closest they come to an adult social life is having pizza at the snack bar at 10 p.m. on a Saturday at the Burrillville rink.

But the real test of endurance is simply watching the game. However cold it is outdoors during the deep freeze of February, it’s 10 degrees colder in ice rinks. Hockey parents spend hours at a time hunkered in those bleachers, wearing four frumpy layers and unfashionable hats. I once asked a woman which she liked more, being a hockey girlfriend back in college, or a hockey mom.

“A hockey girlfriend,” she said. “The clothes were better.”

As far as those frozen bleachers, I’m convinced some parents go into actual hibernation because from October to March, I’d always see them motionless in the same position, outfit and seat every time I arrived and left.

Finally, a big claim among candidates is you need the fortitude to answer a call at 3 a.m. That’s no problem for hockey parents, who often have pre-dawn ice times. One of my sons had to report to a rink at 5:30 a.m. several times a week for two years. I guarantee that anyone able to wake up teenagers before 4 a.m. and get them out the door suited up can handle the most daunting of national crises.

So the next time a party’s nominee needs a running mate ready for a ruthless schedule at terrible hours, they should look again among hockey parents.

To most, a campaign would be relaxing break.

mpatinkin@projo.com