Typically, it is difficult to feel compassion for a hockey “goon” whose main job is to try to re-arrange faces in brawls during games.
Yet John Branch accomplished that mission in his new book, “Boy on Ice: The Life and Death of Derek Boogaard.” He details how Boogaard was a tragic victim because of a fighting culture that exists in hockey.
The book is an extended version of Branch’s series in The New York Times that received national attention for documenting what happened to Boogaard. A native of Saskatchewan, his size — eventually reaching 6 feet 7 inches tall and 260-odd pounds — along with somewhat limited hockey skills led to him being cast by coaches as an “enforcer” as early as in junior programs. His role was to be a physical and intimidating force on the ice and to take on the opponents’ enforcers in game-stopping fights.
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Boogaard worked his way up to the NHL, where he became known as the league’s top fighter while playing for the Minnesota Wild. In his first two seasons, he fought 26 times in 113 games, becoming a fan favorite with the nickname “Boogeyman.” Boogaard’s fists eventually led to the New York Rangers signing him to a four-year, $6.5 million contract in 2010.
The brawls, though, took a toll, as Boogaard was debilitated by shoulder and back injuries, not to mention all the blows to his head that did extensive damage to his brain, according to research after his death. In fighting the constant pain, he became addicted to pain killers and other substances. Remarkably, Branch writes that Boogaard continued to receive prescriptions for large quantities of pills from NHL team doctors even though they knew he was in substance abuse programs. Boogaard died of an overdose in 2011 at the age of 28.
It didn’t have to be this way for Boogaard. “No one ever told Derek directly that his primary mission in hockey would be to fight,” Branch writes of the young boy.
Indeed, there appear to be two sides to Boogaard. The menacing brawler cheered by fans in arenas was in sharp contrast to the shy, kind, giving person known by his family and friends.
Branch describes a coach’s perspective while observing one of Boogaard’s early fights in juniors: “If only (the fans) knew the boy, he thought to himself. A meek, quiet boy, without a malicious bone in his body. A boy who wanted to protect his friends, not hurt others, who liked to fend off trouble before it started.”
Later, Branch writes vividly of the dichotomy in Boogaard’s personality while holding a friend’s newborn baby: “Comfortably nuzzling the tiny infant softly in his enormous, bruised hands.”
It says something about the man that Boogaard developed an unlikely close friendship with Todd Fedoruk, another NHL enforcer. It was Boogaard who shattered Fedoruk’s cheekbone in a 2006 fight, causing the then-Anaheim player to have major reconstructive surgery on his face, including the installation of titanium plates.
Branch writes, “Their bond reached all the way back to their similar boyhoods in Western Canada … to the misunderstood role that they played in hockey and the one punch that altered the arcs of their careers.”
The book offers unique insight into a facet of hockey that requires skills much different than the speed and grace exhibited by Blackhawks star Patrick Kane. The winner of a Pulitzer Prize in 2013, Branch gives chilling blow-by-blow descriptions of Boogaard’s many brawls and the blood lust that they invoked in the fans.
Branch writes: “Punches produced a reflexive chorus of oooohs from the crowd. The volume ratcheted with the first sight of blood, flying equipment, maybe a dislodged tooth.”
The book does not engage in the debate over whether fighting should be eliminated in hockey. The sport in North America still embraces it by only handing out a measly five-minute penalty for the brawlers. In other sports, the offenders would be kicked out of the game.
Perhaps an extended discussion would have been valuable in light of what happened to Boogaard. Then again, by focusing squarely on Boogaard and the circumstances that led to his tragic end, Branch makes a compelling statement of what this ugly role in hockey can do to a young man.
“Boy on Ice” is a haunting tale that will cause hockey fans to think differently the next time they see two players drop their gloves and put their fists up during a game.
Ed Sherman writes about sports media for the baiduhai and at his site, ShermanReport.com.
“Boy on Ice”
By John Branch, W.W. Norton, 371 pages, $26.95