When the ‘sudden and unexpected’ deaths of three National Hockey League (NHL) ‘enforcers’—whose main job was to fight, not score goals--were announced over the past four months, in each case I automatically suspected suicide: Derek Boogaard (May 13, 2011, age 28), Rick Rypien (Aug. 15, 2011, age 27), and Wade Belak (Aug. 31, 2011, age 35). In assuming suicide, I was reminded of what my friend and supervisor—a psychiatric nurse—told me when I worked for the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) for nearly four years in the early-mid 1990s before I returned to school in 1996. She said when we hear or read about someone dying ‘suddenly’ at home or elsewhere, it often—but not always—suggests the person committed suicide.
Widespread published reports indicate Rypien and Belak hanged themselves; Boogaard died of an accidental overdose of alcohol and oxycodone, according to the medical examiner involved. Regardless of whether we’re hockey fanatics or casual observers we should be concerned about these three tragic deaths, in just four months, of NHL ‘enforcers:’ three young men are dead—by their own hands, yes, either accidentally or intentionally—but they are still dead.
Widespread published reports indicate Rypien and Belak hanged themselves; Boogaard died of an accidental overdose of alcohol and oxycodone, according to the medical examiner involved. Regardless of whether we’re hockey fanatics or casual observers we should be concerned about these three tragic deaths, in just four months, of NHL ‘enforcers:’ three young men are dead—by their own hands, yes, either accidentally or intentionally—but they are still dead.
The term ‘enforcer’ seems to be a nice euphemism for ‘thug on skates,’ a tough guy whose main talent and ability seems to be fighting: either because of his size, physical hulk, and willingness and ability to fight; and/or because he doesn’t have the skill to actually play hockey and contribute to his team the old-fashioned way; by getting assists and scoring goals. His key role appears to be protecting his team’s more-talented hockey players by trying to ‘take out’ perceived or actual threats on the opposing team so they don’t hurt the ‘enforcer’s’ more-talented teammates.
- Belak, 6’5” and 223 pounds, was “known more for using his fists than stick-handling…played 549 NHL games, scoring eight goals and 33 points, racking up 1,263 penalty minutes” (Toronto Sun, Sept. 1, 2011). According to the Toronto Star, he “wanted to play the game so he willingly assumed the role of enforcer, taking part in 136 fights, even though he hated what he was hired to do” (Sept. 2, 2011). He recently retired from the NHL and planned a new career, partly in broadcasting.
- Rypien wasn’t a typical NHL ‘enforcer,’ said the New York Times: “He fought often — 39 times in his 119-game N.H.L. career — while scoring only 9 goals and 7 assists…at 5 feet 11 inches and 190 pounds, Rypien fell into the category of the useful, smaller, “character” player, willing to take on anyone. In each of Rypien’s 39 N.H.L. fights, his opponent was taller, according to Dropyourgloves.com…” (Aug. 16, 2011).
- At 6’7” and 260 pounds, Boogaard broke into the NHL “with the Minnesota Wild in 2005-06” (www.foxnews.com/sports), and “quickly gained a reputation as one of the game’s top enforcers,” said the National Post (http://sports.nationalpost.com/2011/05/13/derek-boogaard-found-dead-in-minneapolis/). He died in May, 2011 of an accidental overdose of alcohol and “oxycodone toxicity. Oxycodone is categorized as a painkiller. The (medical examiner’s) report said the manner of death was accidental and that no other data will be released” (May 20, 2011, www.foxnews.com/sports).
The most-recent of these ‘sudden’ deaths is that of Belak, a Toronto Maple Leaf for many years before ending his hockey career with the Nashville Predators and retiring several months ago. His death also seems the most-shocking to many people since he apparently showed no outward signs of anything amiss in his life or psyche. Yet, his mother, Lorraine Belak, has since confirmed he was suffering from depression: “I think he was taking control of that…He didn’t talk about it all the time or a lot…All I know is that it is still under investigation…The only thing I can tell you is he did not die of natural causes” (Toronto Star, Sept. 2, 2011). In addition, columnist Dave Feschuk said two unidentified sources claim Belak secretly suffered from depression, for which he was taking medication (Toronto Star, Sept. 2, 2011, http://www.thestar.com/sports/hockey/article/1048235--feschuk-belak-silently-suffered-from-depression-sources-say).
Belak’s father, Lionel Aadland, reportedly said his son hadn’t displayed any signs of “distress” (Toronto Star, Sept. 2, 2011). Mark Napier, the executive director of the NHL’s alumni association, “which frequently arranges and pays for medical treatment for ex-NHLers” (Toronto Star, Sept. 2, 2011), said he believes Belak never asked the association for assistance.
Notably, Belak has been widely described as always gregarious, loud, fun, upbeat, and as one who never seemed to have a bad day; always kidding around and making jokes. But in hindsight, could he have been trying too hard to be Mr. Personality? When he entertained his friends and colleagues, could he have been mainly acting? Didn’t any of them ever sense he might’ve been trying too hard to be the life of the party?
From my experience, some people who are loud, gregarious, upbeat and ‘on’ all or most of the time eventually reveal, in one way or another, they have low self-esteem, a poor self-image, and generally feel inadequate and inferior to others; they don't really like themselves very much and assume if they're just ‘themselves’ others won’t like them either. So some of these people overcompensate for those perceived flaws by becoming the guy or gal everyone loves having around because they're always good for a laugh, they don’t seem to take anything or themselves seriously, and they can liven up any situation. Did Wade Belak fall into that category?
In a telling moment during an interview with Bruce Arthur of the National Post, Belak revealed something that seems significant and especially poignant about his self-image; which could be related to his apparent suicide. When asked if he ever got special treatment in Toronto, as a Maple Leaf, he said he did at McDonald’s sometimes, but “that’s about it.” He seemed to ruminate momentarily about what his life might be like when he retired from hockey: “I mean, I don’t go throwing around ‘I play for the Leafs’ to get free stuff all the time, because I hate doing that. But I could … I should enjoy it while it lasts. Soon I’ll be a nobody” (http://sports.nationalpost.com/2011/08/31/belak-death-an-end-to-a-wretched-summer/, Aug. 31, 2011).
In saying he’d soon be “a nobody,” perhaps Belak was living up to his reputation as a joker, and was kidding; maybe he actually believed he’d be a ‘somebody.’ But in the context of his suicide this week, I suspect his brief remark, above, betrayed what he really was thinking and feeling about himself and his future outside of hockey. And if he really believed he’d be “a nobody” when he retired from pro hockey, he could’ve been consumed by that thought, and it might’ve played a major role in his decision to kill himself; especially if he had low self-esteem and a poor self-image.
If Belak was taking medication for depression, this might help explain why he’s generally described as being always upbeat and outgoing. The medication might’ve affected him that way, depending on the medication and how he and his system reacted to it. But does his ‘sudden’ death suggest he’d been faking his outward sunny disposition? Was his outward happy nature genuine, even if aided by medication? Or was he actually despondent, lonely, sad, and frustrated--personally and/or professionally--much of the time? Did he feel inadequate or inferior compared to players who scored goals and got assists? Had he been planning to kill himself when the moment was ‘right’ for him? Or, was his ‘sudden’ death really sudden; an aberration, utterly out of character—perhaps the result of a split-second thought, feeling or impulse, or something suddenly happening to him, or in his life?
Since their deaths, Belak, Rypien, and Boogaard have all been variously described by family members, friends, and co-workers as great guys, good friends, caring family members, great parent, sons and brothers, and gentle giants: guys who fought on the ice because they had to, but off the ice they were proverbial pussycats and would do anything to help anybody, anytime.
Not surprisingly, nobody seemed to see the deaths coming—even though, in Rypien’s case, he took two leaves of absence from the Canucks for ‘personal reasons’ and apparently his decade-long fight with depression was common knowledge at least among some of those with whom he worked. After playing several years with the Canucks, he recently signed with the Winnipeg Jets for the 2011-2012 season. In a eulogy at his funeral last month, his uncle, Alan Rypien, asked the inevitable question: “Why? How could this happen? He had a great family, great friends and a great job... He fought this disease with everything he had in him…Unfortunately the disease won the battle…” (http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/sports/hockey/jets/saying-goodbye-to-rypien-128143758.html, Gary Lawless, Aug. 21, 2011).
Interestingly, for all those who knew these three young men, various news sources suggest very few people seemed to know them well at all; how they really felt and what they really thought of being their team’s henchman on blades. By all accounts, none of these men’s family members, friends, or acquaintances knew they felt despondent, lonely, sad, depressed, or whatever feelings and thoughts they had running through their minds and bodies when they decided to end their own lives; either accidentally or intentionally.
If these three men didn’t reach out to anyone for help, this could reflect the nature of their work. Because of the notoriously ‘macho culture’ of the NHL, they might’ve felt or thought they couldn’t let their guard down and show their ‘real selves,’ fears and all, to anyone, including friends or families. Yet presumably these three young men, whose recent and untimely deaths are now being grieved by friends, families, and fans, became an ‘enforcer’ for their NHL team because they chose to do so.
Are these deaths just coincidences or a clear sign of the emotional toll being an ‘enforcer’ can take on a man, regardless of how physically tough and emotionally and mentally well-adjusted he seems to be? One former NHL enforcer, Georges Laraque, now a broadcaster, says these apparent suicides are not just a coincidence; he suggests they go with the territory.
“This job is so hard, physically and mentally. You can go to a movie theatre the night before a game, and you’re thinking of the fight you’re going to get into the next day…You try not to think about it, but you start with the drugs or the alcohol…And when you retire, most of the tough guys aren’t set (for life)," Laraque said.
"You don’t make a lot of money as a fighter…so they go back to drugs and alcohol. There’s no options…there’s the people who say ‘let’s take fighting out of hockey.’ Are you kidding me? Whoever decides to make that rule (no fighting), then you’re really going to have a problem with these guys. If there’s depression when you retire, how bad do you think it’ll be if you take 75 (fighters’) jobs out of the NHL so they can’t even earn a living? You create a bigger problem by trying to fix the problem.”
“This job is so hard, physically and mentally. You can go to a movie theatre the night before a game, and you’re thinking of the fight you’re going to get into the next day…You try not to think about it, but you start with the drugs or the alcohol…And when you retire, most of the tough guys aren’t set (for life)," Laraque said.
"You don’t make a lot of money as a fighter…so they go back to drugs and alcohol. There’s no options…there’s the people who say ‘let’s take fighting out of hockey.’ Are you kidding me? Whoever decides to make that rule (no fighting), then you’re really going to have a problem with these guys. If there’s depression when you retire, how bad do you think it’ll be if you take 75 (fighters’) jobs out of the NHL so they can’t even earn a living? You create a bigger problem by trying to fix the problem.”
The apparent intentional and accidental suicides of Wade Belak, Rick Rypien, and Derek Boogaard—all since May 2011--led NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman and Donald Fehr, Executive Director of the NHL Players' Association to say they won’t let the three deaths pass “without examining the events surrounding each one in full…these tragic events cannot be ignored…Our organizations are committed to a thorough evaluation of our existing assistance programs and practices and will make immediate modifications and improvements to the extent they are deemed warranted” (Aug. 31, 2011).
Time will tell.
Time will tell.
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