Hockey.

Written By Divya Subbiah

Exactly two seconds into the game between the New York Rangers and New Jersey Devils on April 3rd, 2024, every single player on the ice — sans goalies — threw off their gloves, paired off with an opponent, and engaged in a full-on brawl. After a couple minutes, each pair was broken apart — the Rangers’ Matt Rempe and the Devils’ Kurtis Macdermid continuing the longest. Each participating player (four from each team) was also given a game misconduct and ejected from the night’s game. In a way, a fight like this is pure entertainment, and even those unfamiliar with the sport know that fighting isn’t uncommon in hockey; in fact, it’s the only professional league sport to even allow it. I’ll also be the first to admit that I do enjoy the theatrics of a good, clean fight. But occurrences like this one, as engaging as they might be, speak to a larger cultural issue within hockey as a whole, and one with no immediate, easy, or clear solution. 

For the sake of explaining myself, and because I feel that explaining myself is necessary, I need to start simple. Me, and hockey. It’s 2013, you’re me, a 12-year-old with a vague but non-concrete interest in sports in general, and you’re watching the Stanley Cup finals with your cousin. No one else in the entire house is in the room, because they, frankly, couldn't care less about the game. You’re me, you don’t really get hockey but you can follow the puck on screen, and you’re rooting for Chicago because your cousin’s from there. With just over a minute left of the game, Chicago scores two goals in 17 seconds, winning both the game and the Stanley Cup. 

I remember a lot of my childhood, but something about this memory in particular is absurdly vivid. I remember the missed high-five my cousin and I attempted, I remember the adrenaline of those 17 seconds, I remember the pure euphoria I felt watching Chicago win. This might be a formative hockey memory of mine (and if we go back even further we’d arrive at me learning to skate in early elementary school at the San Jose Sharks’ practice rink, or at my third grade class when Sharkie himself visited to promote reading), but it isn’t exactly how I got here today. 

I got here today because around a year ago, when I was a little over a month away from graduating college and was therefore stressed out of my mind, I started watching the NHL playoffs. As a film person I couldn’t bring myself to watch a movie during this time when I came home tired each day, because watching a movie for me often means thinking a lot about that movie. I needed something engaging and entertaining, something I could care about but not think too much about it. So, somehow, I ended up watching hockey. I watched nearly every playoff game at the end of last season, sustained the interest through the offseason, and became an avid fan beginning this current season. I won’t claim to be an expert — there is still so, so much I have to learn and understand — but I do think I know a fair amount about hockey. And even if I’m still figuring out the logistics of the salary cap or having to remind myself frequently what offsides is, if there’s anything I am primed to understand as someone with a humanities background, it’s the social and political landscape of this sport. 

This is about to get both complicated and dense, so let’s start in the simplest way we can: Hockey Is For Everyone. This phrase, trademarked by the National Hockey League, is the league’s official stance, and their attempt at growing the game. From the NHL’s own website, this phrase means they “believe all hockey programs — from professionals to youth organizations — should provide a safe, positive and inclusive environment for players and families regardless of race, color, religion, national origin, gender identity or expression, disability, sexual orientation and socio-economic status.” The thing is, though, this isn’t really true in practice. 

There’s this narrative that hockey is an underdog’s sport. And in some ways, maybe it is. It certainly allows for players of varying skills and strengths to use their unique abilities to shine — Quinn Hughes (Vancouver Canucks), for example, might not be an especially large human being, but he sure is fast. Hockey is also one of the less popular major sports in the US. The league encompasses the US and Canada, and the sport is more popular up North. Hockey just has less fans in the US, viewership paling in comparison to sports like football, basketball, or baseball. There’s therefore less money in it — which isn’t to say there’s no money in it, because this is still a professional men’s sport, after all — but just, less. Now, all of that is true, and it helps the narrative that this sport is unconventional, but it does not mean that it’s an underdog’s sport. Hockey has perhaps one of the highest barriers to entry out of all of the professional sports in this country. Soccer is famously accessible across the world, because of how little equipment is needed. Other sports might get more complicated, with hoops and whatnot, but are still so much easier to get into. As a parent you can send your kid to a basketball summer camp without worrying about packing them with much more than a workable pair of sneakers. Hockey, on the other hand, requires so much more stuff. There’s the skates and then the pads and sticks and pucks, not to mention the fact that the sport actually requires a baseline ice skating ability, which is both another expense and not nearly as intrinsically easy to learn as running with a ball is. This is a sport that almost necessitates a certain amount of socioeconomic privilege to get involved, unless you happen to be extremely lucky and live in an area with a good youth outreach program. So sure, maybe hockey has fewer fans than other sports, but if you actually want to play it, there are a lot of privileges you just need to be born with. 

Let’s say, though, that you are able to play hockey, despite the difficulties you might face in getting involved. What happens then, if you’re a person of color, or a member of the queer community, and you find yourself in situations in the dressing room or on the ice, that are either inhospitable or downright dangerous to someone of your background? As a society that has racism ingrained in almost every one of its institutions, political or not, it’s no surprise, really, that it permeates sports as well. The problem, though, is that instances of racism are often handled extremely poorly.

There are too many to recount, but a significant one that comes to mind is the barrage of racial threats that Nazem Kadri (Calgary Flames, formerly Colorado Avalanche) received after an on-ice collision with St. Louis Blues goalie Jordan Binnington in 2022 [1]. Collisions are difficult, especially when a goalie is involved (the goalie’s teammates tend to step in as aggressive protectors in the event that a goalie is hit), but none of that excuses receiving violent, racist death threats. Kadri is of Lebanese descent, and is the first Muslim player in the league. Those facts alone mean that he’s probably faced a whole array of instances of discrimination during his rise to the professional leagues, but the 2022 incident has stuck with me, especially considering that it feels like the league hasn’t learned from it. Recently in a Canadian youth league game, a player was called racial slurs on the ice and was suspended after he responded using profanity [2]. The player who used the slurs was also suspended and the young man who faced the discrimination had his suspension reduced, but the fact that someone swearing back after being the target of a racial slur was treated the same way as the slur-slinger is absolutely absurd. 

It’s nearly impossible to control individual action, but the organizations in charge — both at the professional level and down to the youth leagues — have a responsibility to act appropriately, something they seem quite frankly terrible at doing. This is a cultural issue, one that permeates the dressing rooms and fanbases, and one that’s in the organization itself. If players and virulent fans don’t get reprimanded for their actions, there’s no reason for them to change course. They’ll just keep doing it if they keep getting away with it.

(There’s so much more that I simply can’t get into for the sake of space, from individual incidents to historically problematic issues like Chicago’s insistence on keeping their name/mascot as the Blackhawks. But if you’re interested in learning more, I could not more highly recommend the documentary Black Ice, which at the time of writing is available on Hulu; it explores the history and position of Black players in ice hockey). 

But speaking of getting away with it, we have case study number one: Patrick Kane. Kane was a star player for Chicago from the start of his NHL career in 2007, went on to have an extremely short stint with the New York Rangers, and after undergoing hip surgery, has since resurfaced with the Detroit Red Wings. For years now, Kane has been accused of and in some cases fully shown to have acted in unbecoming, violent, and discriminatory ways, and he’s gotten out career intact every time. From doing blackface on Halloween [3] to allegedly choking a woman at a party [4] to assaulting a cab driver [5] to, most drastically, allegedly raping a woman [6], Kane’s rap sheet is not insignificant. And listen, despite what it may look like, I’m not here to specifically target him. Horrible as it may be, there are dozens of other players who have done similar things and also gotten away with it. But Kane in particular is significant to me, if only for the fact that in every article I found detailing his misdeeds, the authors are seemingly incapable of not mentioning his playing record, which is admittedly impressive. In film there’s the discussion, ever the more frequent, of whether it’s possible to separate the art from the artist. And that’s a whole can of worms on its own, but usually, to me at least, the answer boils down to “no.” 

It’s no in film but it’s also no in hockey, because the league’s attempts to separate itself  from the “private” matters of its players never really works. It’s one thing for a player to rightfully like a level of privacy in his life (thinking of Sidney Crosby here, notably), and another for a player who’s been the subject of numerous public investigations and incidents to continue playing with barely a rap on the knuckles. 

Kane’s (and other players’) history of violence against women is particularly concerning in the light of the Hockey Canada 2018 World Juniors case, in which a woman alleges she was sexually assaulted by eight members of the team [7]. Four NHL players have been removed from their teams as a result of being involved in the case, which is ongoing. The investigation is in full swing and we likely won’t hear much about it for at least a year, but even this early on, there have been vital missteps. Between the London (Ontario) police chief seemingly blaming the media for violence against women [8] to the four removed NHL players still being salaried for the rest of their contracts, it’s frankly embarrassing for a league with a likely robust team of lawyers to not be more proactive in cases such as these. I understand that legally it gets tricky when it comes to speaking about ongoing investigations, but I don’t think that negates the fact that in moments like these, people such as the woman at the center of the London investigation need support, and female fans across the world need to know that this league has their back. 

I’m not blaming the NHL for what is a much deeper and insidious issue, one that permeates almost every culture on the face of this planet, but I do feel that each of us as individuals and as parts of systems and organizations, have a responsibility to do better. It’s less that they’re at fault for existing in this atmosphere, and more that they’re at fault for not doing anything to dispel it. 

If you thought that this sport wouldn’t have problems with the big three in terms of discrimination, you are unfortunately wrong. Issues with racism? Check. Issues with misogyny? Check, as well. Issues with homophobia? Triple check with a cherry on top. Homophobia in the NHL feels as frequent as Trevor Zegras (Anaheim Ducks) gets injured, and in this case, I’ll go as far as to say that it’s a problem perpetuated by the league, rather than simply inherited by it. 

While NHL players of color are few and far between, there still are some, and hopefully many more in the future. Queer players, though? Basically nonexistent. Luke Prokop, who is currently in the AHL development league but with his rights signed to the Nashville Predators, was the first player under NHL contract to come out as gay, in 2021. The first player, past or present — as in there are zero other players who are out, even after retirement. Which isn’t to say there simply aren’t any queer NHL players, because of course there are, just that the environment that this league creates makes it quite inhospitable for them to be public about it. Homophobia in men’s sports is nothing new, but hockey in particular seems to be moving backwards, rather than the slow inches forwards that other professional league men’s sports at least seem to be doing. At the end of the last season, NHL commissioner Gary Bettman announced that pride jerseys, amongst other specialty jerseys (cancer support and honoring veterans, to name two others), would not be worn during warm-ups for this current season [9]. Bettman claimed the jerseys are a distraction, and the announcement followed many instances last season where players refused to wear the pride sweaters. No pride sweaters during warm-ups, but don’t worry — you can still buy them! He also announced the ban of pride tape — which was later reversed, but I’ll get to that in a bit. 

 

THE CANADIAN PRESS/Sean Kilpatrick

 

Homophobia in hockey is as pervasive as racism and misogyny, but this action in particular sends the message that despite their claim that Hockey Is For Everyone, that Everyone doesn’t include queer players. It’s a baffling step backwards that validates the players who refuse to participate in pride events at the expense of the invisible population of queer players and visible population of queer fans. 

When it comes to the violence against women and the homophobia that permeates this sport, a lot of it, to me, comes down to problems involving masculinity in hockey. And this, finally, is where fighting comes in. Given its reputation for brutality, men’s ice hockey in tandem has this image of what being a man looks like. It’s an image perpetuated by player-turned broadcaster Don Cherry [10], by Gary Bettman and his predecessors, and by so many individuals in the league as well. It’s an image that suggests that to be a Real Man who plays professional ice hockey, you should drink beer and date around and antagonize your opponents on-ice. 

A quick bit of background, for my hockey-unfamiliar readers: “enforcers” are players on hockey teams who take the role of responding aggressively to opposing players’ slights against his team. Enforcers are an unofficial role — at the end of the day the player is still a center, left/right wing, or defenseman — but one that was very popular a few decades ago. A fictitious example, to get the point across: you’re an enforcer and some guy on the opposite team gets in a dirty stick check that the refs don’t see. So you naturally go after him, and start a fistfight. 

Enforcers are no longer employed as (un)officially in the NHL as they used to be. This is a good thing, of course — a study found that hockey enforcers’ lifespans are roughly 10 years shorter than their less fight-prone peers, due to a combination of substance abuse, traumatic brain injury, and suicide [11]. John Branch’s book Boy on Ice covers the tragic death of Derek Boogaard, a former enforcer. That said, I think that the lessening of the role of the enforcer has led to a certain level of complacency when it comes to the current state of fighting in hockey. Because, as we saw with the Rangers/Devils match up earlier last week, fighting is still very much a Thing.

I do stand by my statement that a good fight can be incredibly entertaining, but I won’t lie and say I’ll die on this hill. Fighting, in the grand scheme of things, is completely unnecessary. Rivalries (such as that between the Rangers and the Devils) exist, but that’s what makes the games between those teams inherently extra exciting. There’s no need for full line fights between players before the game’s even played. This incident in particular appears to stem from something that happened between Rempe and Macdermid during the previous Rangers/Devils game, and even though those two seemed to know what was about to occur [12], it doesn’t mean it actually needed to occur. The result of this brawl in particular was a weakening of both teams, running individual players ragged in their need to support their team — rookie Luke Hughes (Devils) spent over 32 minutes on the ice that game, when usually he averages closer to 20. 

I’ve heard arguments that fighting is the natural solution when players need to get out frustration over a bad hit or call, but really, it’s just a cycle. Someone plays dirty and someone else responds in kind, then the next game tensions are high because the last time they played, a fight broke out. So again, someone plays dirty. It’s endless. In regard to the Rangers/Devils incident, people have argued that there’s nothing the league could have done to prevent the brawl, and that all the players were ejected, so the proper protocol is in place. But it’s not really about ejection or fines. This is about the culture surrounding hockey and surrounding fights, the culture that not only accepts, but encourages this kind of behavior. That isn’t fixable overnight, but it is something that needs to be fixed. 

I say all of this and it might seem like things are downright terrible in the NHL, but that isn’t all true. Well, it is true that bits of terrible-ness sometimes come straight from the top, but it’s also true that individual players and associates of this game have been doing more than their part to improve the state of hockey. 

I mentioned before that the pride tape ban was lifted; earlier this season, Travis Dermott (Arizona Coyotes) used pride tape during a game in defiance of the rules, and in response, the ban was lifted [13]. Dermott took a risk, given that at the time he had no contract set for the next season, but he said “it had to be done. I was going to deal with whatever came my way” [14]. The Edmonton Oilers have been particularly outspoken about their support for the queer community, going as far as to use pride tape at an away game, when they played the Devils during the New Jersey team’s pride night [15]. Sidney Crosby, often known for his subtle acts of support, gifted another player’s agent a signed and messaged pride jersey after finding out the agent recently came out [16].

 
 

And in a similar vein to Dermott, though with a stronger support system considering his status as a player, goalie Marc Andre-Fleury (Minnesota Wild) donned a Native American heritage mask both in warm-ups and a game, under threat of fines, in order to show support for the Indigenous communities of which his wife is a part of [17].

 
 

In terms of questioning the culture of toxic masculinity in hockey, Nathan MacKinnon (Colorado Avalanche) has been admirably open about his mental health and body image struggles, speaking in interviews about his long-standing personal work with a sports psychologist [18].

Beyond these individual acts, players have taken it upon themselves to use their platforms for good. Anthony Duclair (formerly San Jose Sharks, newly Tampa Bay Lightning) started the Duclair Foundation, which understands the inaccessibility of hockey and aims to bring it to underserved communities through training camps. Patrick Burke, son of longtime NHL executive Brian Burke, co-founded the You Can Play foundation following the death of his brother Brendan, who was an openly gay NCAA hockey player. You Can Play aims to eliminate homophobia in sports through educational programs and inclusion resources, often partnering with NHL teams ahead of their pride theme nights.


These are all just snippets of actions being taken across this league by players and people in positions of power, all trying to change the culture surrounding hockey for the better. It’s a story of David and Goliath — but with any luck, we’ll have a lot more Davids. For all that I speak on the problems I see in this league, I know they’re not exclusive to this sport. But given my own investment in hockey, this just feels all the more pressing.


I feel comfortable critiquing films because I have a genuine love for and understanding of film and filmmaking; ultimately anything I have to say about a film or series comes from a place of appreciation. Me talking about hockey, then, despite my newness to the sport, comes from a very similar place. I love this sport, issues and all. I love the game itself, the catharsis of it, the excitement of it. I love the narratives embedded in its history, from hockey dynasties like the Hughes to sillier stories like Sidney Crosby getting scored on by someone he used to babysit. I love the community it creates. But I see the cracks in the way this sport and league function. I see room for improvement. When it comes to film, while I always appreciate seeing myself represented in stories, I never really seek it or depend on it. But I do fight with all my might and skill to create a space for myself in that industry, odds against me be damned. And I’ve found that I’m approaching hockey in a similar way. The way this league currently functions isn’t exactly hospitable to non-traditional hockey fans, but if anything, that just makes me want to fight harder to create a space where it doesn’t exist. I see all the ways in which this league could be improved almost as a challenge, and maybe it’s futile effort for silly old me to be taking on the machine from my position as an absolute nobody, but I can’t help but do it regardless. Because I love this sport, and I think a lot of other people like me could, but right now, it doesn’t really love us back. ⬥

In-text references:

[1] Nazem Kadri: https://theathletic.com/3330190/2022/05/24/nazem-kadri-death-threats-racism-colorado-avalanche-binnington/

[2] Canada Youth Hockey incident: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/black-player-ice-hockey-new-hamburg-racial-slur-suspension-1.7161605

[3] Patrick Kane 1: https://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/nhl-puck-daddy/blackhawks-blackface-most-predictable-backlash-2009--nhl.html

  • Maybe just take my word on this one unless you want to be subjected to the frankly gross opinions of the author of this linked article

[4] Patrick Kane 2: https://www.cbsnews.com/chicago/news/kane-allegedly-choked-a-girl-uttered-anti-semitic-comments-in-madison/

  • It’s worth taking this one with a grain of salt; the only source I could find was through Deadspin, a gossip site

[5] Patrick Kane 3: https://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/11/sports/hockey/11nhl.html

[6] Patrick Kane 4: https://bleacherreport.com/articles/2584179-patrick-kane-under-investigation-for-rape-latest-details-comments-reaction

[7] Hockey Canada 2018: https://apnews.com/article/hockey-canada-sexual-assault-ca86ce1548e442db8d26030c3b9c8f05

[8] London Police statement: https://www.sportsnet.ca/nhl/article/police-chief-challenged-for-statement-on-whats-contributing-to-violence-against-women/

[9] Pride sweater ban: https://bleacherreport.com/articles/10080323-nhl-teams-wont-wear-specialty-warmup-jerseys-after-pride-night-controversies

[10] Don Cherry: https://www.vice.com/en/article/qvgexq/don-cherrys-dangerous-legacy-on-hockey-night-in-canada

[11] Enforcers report: https://www.washingtonpost.com/wellness/2023/06/12/hockey-enforcers-cte-deaths/

[12] Rangers/Devils fight: https://theathletic.com/5391910/2024/04/04/why-did-the-rangers-and-devils-fight-hockey/

[13] Travis Dermott 1: https://www.npr.org/2023/10/25/1208403697/nhl-pride-tape-ban-lifted-travis-dermott

[14] Travis Dermott 2: https://apnews.com/article/nhl-pride-tape-dermott-lgbtq-16318411d06d3b012d9274b826070631

[15] Oilers pride tape: https://www.sportsnet.ca/nhl/article/oilers-mcdavid-drasaitl-uses-pride-tape-in-warmup-ahead-of-game-vs-devils/

[16] Sidney Crosby leadership: https://www.nhl.com/penguins/news/sidney-crosby-s-thoughtful-gestures-define-leadership

[17] Marc-Andre Fleury: https://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/columnist/mike-freeman/2023/11/26/marc-andre-fleury-wife-mask-nhl-problem/71694220007/

[18] Nathan MacKinnon interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56s3IuTy_10&ab_channel=Spittin%27Chiclets

Other references:

If you read any of the above articles, I would go with 10, the essay on Don Cherry, and 16, the article on Sidney Crosby. My favorite examples/sources are highlighted both above and below. In addition, here’s some films/books/foundations I referenced, and some I didn’t. Unfortunately there’s zero way for me to make a simple blog post completely comprehensive of every incident, policy or event (I would have a write a literal book for that to happen), but I aimed to cover some of the more concerning and relevant details, issues, and events. I could also probably write an entire post just about the Blackhawks, but perhaps that’s for another day…

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Divya Subbiah
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