THIS IS A WORK OF nonfiction, based on interviews, archival research, and documents. The difficult part about crafting Derek Boogaard’s story is that he could not contribute directly to its telling. That some details of his life began 30 years before the publication of this book meant that it depended heavily on the recollections of those who knew Derek deeply.
No people contributed more than Len Boogaard and Joanne Boogaard, Derek’s parents, who should be applauded for their patience, honesty, integrity, and trust in helping this story be told. It should be noted that this was a journalistically independent endeavor, in no way an authorized biography subject to oversight. The Boogaards and their children, like the many dozens of others who answered persistent and pointed questions about Derek’s life and death, were willing contributors, but not editors. No one was paid to provide information.
Vital to the search into Derek’s childhood were 16 pages of handwritten notes found at his apartment after his death. In the years before his death, he had written down memories of his youth, presumably for a potential book. Those notes, used liberally in this book, offer the only first-person accounts of Derek’s childhood and memories of youth and junior hockey beyond newspaper clippings or television news clips in which he was quoted.
Both Joanne Boogaard and Len and Jody Boogaard shared troves of scrapbooks, photo albums, and memorabilia. Ryan Boogaard, one of Derek’s brothers, provided photographs and video clips of most of Derek’s fights, including those in junior hockey. Janella D’Amore, Derek’s live-in girlfriend for several years while Derek worked his way from junior in Canada to the minor leagues in the American South to his NHL debut in Minnesota, supplied countless photographs, pieces of memorabilia, and letters she and Derek had traded and that she had long kept locked privately in a safe.
Vital to the research were the archives of many newspapers, including the New York Times, particularly stories written by respected journalists who covered Derek closely, such as Rob Vanstone of the Leader-Post in Regina, Jim Swanson of the Prince George Citizen, and Michael Russo of the StarTribune in Minneapolis. Many other newspapers, including the Saint Paul Pioneer Press, the Houston Chronicle, the Advertiser of Lafayette, Louisiana, the New York Daily News, and the New York Post, were invaluable to the reporting.
During much of the reporting and writing of this book, my computer had windows open to several websites. A couple, HockeyDB.com and Hockey-Reference.com, provided statistics on games, goals, assists, penalty minutes, and the like. Sites devoted to hockey fighting, primarily HockeyFights.com, run by David Singer, but also DropYourGloves.com, helped immensely in compiling statistical records of Derek’s fights, often with accompanying video and analysis.
Among the proud tradition of hockey-themed books that served as both inspiration and guide, foremost was The Code: The Unwritten Rules of Fighting and Retaliation in the NHL, Ross Bernstein’s excellent and exhaustive book filled with history and voices of many of the men who have played the role of enforcer. Another was Tough Guy, the insightful autobiography of the late Bob Probert (written with Kirstie McLellan Day), one of Derek’s NHL enforcer heroes and the reason he wore No. 24 with the Wild.
Formal, exhaustive interviews were conducted with roughly 60 people with firsthand, intimate ties to Derek. Most of those people were interviewed subsequent times, ranging from on-camera interviews for the New York Times documentary that accompanied the original newspaper series to follow-up sessions that delved more deeply into particular aspects of Derek’s life. Countless other people provided smaller glimpses into Derek’s life or the world of hockey and enforcers. Those with close connections to Derek mentioned in the book either were interviewed or were provided the opportunity to be interviewed and declined, including officials of the New York Rangers, Minnesota Wild, and their team doctors.
People in Melfort and Herbert were interviewed, including Derek’s former coaches, teachers, friends, and teammates—none more helpful than former coach Floyd Halcro and childhood friend Evan Folden. Coaches and executives of the three teams that Derek played for in the Western Hockey League—the Regina Pats, Prince George Cougars, and Medicine Hat Tigers—were interviewed at length. They included then Pats scout Todd Ripplinger and general manager Brent Parker; Cougars general manager (and assistant coach during Derek’s tenure) Dallas Thompson and former general manager Daryl Lubiniecki; and former Tigers coach Willie Desjardins.
Also interviewed were several of Derek’s teammates and rivals, from Brett Condy and Devin Wilson to Mat Sommerfeld and Mitch Fritz. Several billet families willingly shared their thoughts, including Doris Sullivan in Medicine Hat. Mike and Caren Tobin in Prince George, who grew closer to Derek than any other adults during his formative years in their home, were vital contributors and wonderful hosts.
Several NHL enforcers, past and present, were giving of their time and insight, including John Scott, Georges Laraque, D. J. King, Brantt Myhres, and Ryan VandenBussche. A special commendation goes to Todd Fedoruk, Derek’s one-time rival and longtime friend, who was consistently gracious with his time and insight, particularly as someone who shared many of Derek’s struggles yet remains steadfast in his belief that fighting has a reasoned place in hockey.
Especially helpful were mostly former officials of the Minnesota Wild, including assistant general manager Tom Lynn, assistant general manager Chris Snow, scout Tommy Thompson, coordinator of player development Barry MacKenzie, and assistant equipment manager Rick Bronwell, one of Derek’s best friends when the two were employed by the minor-league Houston Aeros.
National Hockey League commissioner Gary Bettman was interviewed, on camera, at league offices in New York City on November 29, 2011, in the presence of NHL vice president of media relations Frank Brown. Deputy commissioner Bill Daly was interviewed in his office in July of that year, also in Brown’s presence.
Derek’s agent, Ron Salcer, provided a wide range of information, none more poignant than his eyewitness accounts of Derek’s downfall, the struggles to keep a star client on his feet, and the decisions to send him to rehabilitation. Also instrumental in helping explain Derek’s rise and fall were Tobin Wright, who worked for Salcer and was a business manager and confidant of Derek’s in Minneapolis; Rob Nelson, Derek’s financial advisor, one of several friends who visited Derek in New York; and Pat O’Brien, Derek’s trusted friend and physical therapist.
Jeremy Clark, an athletic trainer who became one of Derek’s best friends in Minnesota and was with Derek the night he died, was interviewed several times at his gym. He was always accommodating and forthright.
Derek’s two primary girlfriends, the two loves of his life, deserve special recognition. Janella D’Amore and Derek were together for about three years, stretching from his stint in Medicine Hat through his first season in Minnesota. Janella shared intimate memories of two young people in love, on a crazy journey from obscurity to wealth and fame.
Erin Russell and Derek became intimately involved early in Derek’s second NHL season, about the time of his knockout punch to Todd Fedoruk. They had several years together, through the ups and downs of fame, fortune, and the tangled web of personal problems that Derek encountered, including substance abuse. In his final year, Derek hoped to win Erin back, and the two had their most pleasant exchange of many, many months shortly before he died. Erin, reluctant to participate in the story, eventually provided a two-hour phone interview after I inadvertently discovered her waiting tables at a Minneapolis bar and restaurant and introduced myself.
With the permission of the Boogaard family, the doctors and experts at Boston University’s Center for the Study of Traumatic Encephalopathy opened their files on Derek and showed me Derek’s brain. Dr. Ann McKee, Dr. Robert Cantu, Dr. Robert Stern, and Chris Nowinksi helped educate me on brain science, the mystery behind concussions, and the precise damage Derek’s brain absorbed during his 28 years.
Finally, Len Boogaard deserves a special section, because so much of this book could not have been written without his help. In the wake of his son’s death, the longtime Royal Canadian Mounted Police member began his own investigation. He tirelessly uncovered a paper trail of Derek’s final year or two, lined with the types of documents mostly available only to next of kin, and shared it for the purposes of telling Derek’s story.
He requested—and, in most cases, received—Derek’s medical reports and files from team doctors of the Wild and Rangers, including notes from trainers and prescriptions from doctors. He requested and received Derek’s pharmacy records from drugstores in Minnesota and New York, mostly various outlets of Walgreens and Duane Reade that Derek frequented.
He painstakingly combed through Derek’s phone records, making a directory of contacts by calling numbers he did not recognize and seeing who answered. He collected Derek’s bank records and credit-card reports. He received copies of Derek’s drug tests, which showed which drugs the league’s substance abuse program was testing for, and the results. He received Derek’s file from Authentic Recovery Center, the Los Angeles rehabilitation clinic where Derek spent most of his final few weeks. (Founder and program administrator Cassidy Cousens was among those I interviewed.)
By overlaying the data—doctor’s notes, prescriptions received, drug tests taken, and bank records—Len’s research created a deeply woven arc of highs and lows and, ultimately, the death of his son. It also became the foundation of a wrongful-death lawsuit that the family filed against the NHL in 2013, which was slowly wending its way through the American court system at the time of publication.
For those people, and all the others with a stake in Derek’s life and an aching from unanswered questions, their trust and insight will forever be appreciated.