After the Boogaard Tragedy: Why The NHL Should Stop The Fights

“What if?”

As NHL commissioner Gary Bettman spoke about the future of hockey fighting at an NHL Board of Governors meeting this week, that question kept nagging at me. As in, what if there is in fact a link between hockey fighting and some of the tragedies that have befallen the NHL recently. Even if the link hasn’t been conclusively proven, shouldn’t the strong possibility that fighting is leading to some players’ long-term brain damage be enough to eliminate the practice altogether from the game?

An exhaustive, three-part New York Times series chronicling the life and death of former New York Rangers enforcer Derek Boogaard, who died of an accidental overdose of alcohol and a painkiller in May, has intensified the debate about fighting on the ice. Boogaard got into nearly 200 scuffles in his pro career, and had multiple concussions; for the last few years of his life, he battled substance abuse. In a post-mortem analysis of his brain, a Boston University lab diagnosed Boogaard with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a degenerative brain disease found only in people who have suffered repetitive head trauma. Symptoms of CTE include depression, memory loss and problems with impulse control. (See why head hits are causing a concussion crisis.)

Hockey fighting is a longstanding ritual, in which players drop their gloves and are allowed to engage in a bare-knuckled boxing match in the middle of the rink for a minute or two before referees break it up. In baseball, football, basketball, and soccer, the officials don’t step back and let players brawl between plays. International hockey disallows fighting, and so does the American collegiate game.

The Boogaard tragedy raises a fundamental question that the sport can’t easily ignore. If fighting were phased out of the NHL, could a similar future tragedy be avoided? If the NHL truly cares about player safety — and heavier fines and suspensions for blatant head hits while the puck is in play suggest as much — why not phase out a practice that involves, you know, dozens of blatant head hits? Isn’t permitting hockey fighting the height of hypocrisy?

Bettman would surely take issue with that charge, but you do have to give him some credit for honesty; he essentially admitted this weekthat economics keeps fighting in the game. “Our fans tell us that they like the level of physicality in our game, and for some people it’s an issue but it’s not as big an issue in terms of fans and the people in the game to the extent that other people suggest it is,” Bettman said at the meeting, in regards to fighting. “I think people need to take a deep breath and not overreact.” (See the physics behind concussions.)

Eliminating hockey fighting, however, seems far from an overreaction. Yes, we don’t know for sure if Derek Boogaard’s fighting caused his death, or even his addictions. But here’s what we do know: CTE has only been diagnosed in victims who have suffered blows to the head. (It was originally diagnosed in boxers, and called dementia pugilistica, or punch drunk syndrome). Some CTE victims were not addicts. Boogaard, and others, were. Yes, Boogaard’s drug use could have heightened the depression and memory lapses he suffered near the end of his life. But his CTE could have certainly caused depression and cognitive issues, and the lack of impulse control that led to addiction. So it’s entirely possible that if Derek Boogaard didn’t fight, he’d be alive.

Boogaard, furthermore, is not an isolated case. Two other hockey enforcers have been diagnosed with CTE: Bob Probert, one of the most prolific fighters in the game, who died of heart failure in 2010, and Reggie Fleming, a bruising player from hockey’s pre-helmet era, who died in 2009, at 73. Fleming had suffered from dementia, and other CTE symptoms, for the last 30 years of his life. Two other enforcers died this summer: Rick Rypien, who committed suicide after battling depression for ten years, and Wade Belak, who died of a hanging (Belak’s family has said Belak’s death was accidental). Their brains have not been examined: CTE can only be diagnosed post-mortem.

“Policy and rule changes should not be made prematurely from knee jerk reactions,” says Robert Stern, co-director of the Boston University Center for the Study of CTE. “However, we must take logical steps and measured steps to reduce exposure to brain trauma.” Harsher penalties and suspensions for fighting — currently, the combatants go to the penalty box for a mere five minutes — and a directive to refs to play immediate peacemaker are perfectly logical, and measured.

Another question popped into my head when reading some of Bettman’s comments. Didn’t he see what happened in the NFL? When CTE was first starting to be diagnosed in NFL players five or so years ago, that league tried to downplay the effects of concussions. Eventually, the NFL changed it tune. The league has funded research at the Boston University CTE lab, enforced stricter “return to play” guidelines for players who have suffered concussions, handed down stiffer penalties for players who take intentional head shots, and even cut down the number of practices, to reduce the overall incident of head collisions. (See the top 10 sports moments of 2011.)

In response to these new tragedies in the NHL, Bettman has downplayed the link between concussions and CTE. “With respect to what Boston University might find on CTE, they’re still looking at a very limiteddatabase,” Bettman said. “There’s no control element because you have to look at everything that went on in the person’s life before you can make a judgment as to what a brain can show when you open it up … I think it’s unfortunate if people use tragedies to jump to conclusions that probably at this stage aren’t supported.”

No one is jumping to conclusions. Every CTE victim has been hit in the head. “I disagree with statements that call into question the link between repetitive brain trauma and CTE,” says Stern. “CTE has been described in studies since the 1920s. To date there has not been a pathologically confirmed case of CTE who has not had a history of repetitive brain trauma.” Stern’s database is far from limited.

“There are no easy answers,” Bettman said. There’s one. Break up the fights.

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Source: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2101997,00.html