Part 1
An enforcer's life is a daily battle.......
The deaths of three NHL enforcers -- Derek Boogaard, Rick Rypien and Wade Belak -- since May shed light on the issues and dangers that enforcers face on and off the ice. Brent Severyn, Belak's teammate on the 1996-97 Colorado Avalanche, had a 328-game NHL career with six teams that began with the Quebec Nordiques in 1989 and ended in 1999 with the Stanley Cup champion Dallas Stars. Now the owner of the Dallas-area business Severyn Sports, Severyn took time to tell SI.com's Adrian Dater what it's really like to fight for a living in the NHL.
The day I became a "goon" is pretty clear. In September 1996 -- seven years into my NHL career, the same season that Wade Belak was turning pro and joining the Avalanche -- I got a call from Colorado. "We need a fourth-line forward to protect our guys, are you interested?" After a 15- or 20-minute conversation, I decided I would give it a shot.
It was my dream to be playing in the NHL and I was willing to do anything to stay there. Being an enforcer was the toughest job I had to do. Protecting your teammates by fighting is a physical and mental battle waged daily with opponents and within your own head. The actual fight on the ice is not the worst part. It's thinking about the fight. A mental vise grips you at training camp and doesn't let go until the end of the season. Fighting permeates every aspect of your thoughts. A slow boil of fear is always under the surface of your life.
Fighting was not enjoyable, but it had always earned me respect and room on the ice. When I joined Colorado, I had been working to establish myself as a stay-at-home defenseman in the NHL. I was known as a guy who could handle himself, but I generally left the heavy lifting to my team's enforcer. I didn't know much about the forward position. Frankly, I did not have the stick-handling ability for it. I was excited to play on a team that had just won the Stanley Cup and had an outstanding chance to repeat, but I did not realize that my life as a hockey player and how I would be viewed for the rest of my career would be altered forever.
An enforcer's life is a daily battle.......
The deaths of three NHL enforcers -- Derek Boogaard, Rick Rypien and Wade Belak -- since May shed light on the issues and dangers that enforcers face on and off the ice. Brent Severyn, Belak's teammate on the 1996-97 Colorado Avalanche, had a 328-game NHL career with six teams that began with the Quebec Nordiques in 1989 and ended in 1999 with the Stanley Cup champion Dallas Stars. Now the owner of the Dallas-area business Severyn Sports, Severyn took time to tell SI.com's Adrian Dater what it's really like to fight for a living in the NHL.
The day I became a "goon" is pretty clear. In September 1996 -- seven years into my NHL career, the same season that Wade Belak was turning pro and joining the Avalanche -- I got a call from Colorado. "We need a fourth-line forward to protect our guys, are you interested?" After a 15- or 20-minute conversation, I decided I would give it a shot.
It was my dream to be playing in the NHL and I was willing to do anything to stay there. Being an enforcer was the toughest job I had to do. Protecting your teammates by fighting is a physical and mental battle waged daily with opponents and within your own head. The actual fight on the ice is not the worst part. It's thinking about the fight. A mental vise grips you at training camp and doesn't let go until the end of the season. Fighting permeates every aspect of your thoughts. A slow boil of fear is always under the surface of your life.
Fighting was not enjoyable, but it had always earned me respect and room on the ice. When I joined Colorado, I had been working to establish myself as a stay-at-home defenseman in the NHL. I was known as a guy who could handle himself, but I generally left the heavy lifting to my team's enforcer. I didn't know much about the forward position. Frankly, I did not have the stick-handling ability for it. I was excited to play on a team that had just won the Stanley Cup and had an outstanding chance to repeat, but I did not realize that my life as a hockey player and how I would be viewed for the rest of my career would be altered forever.