Barriers exist in many forms, sometimes they come in the form of a glass ceiling, other times they resemble a floor of ice. But the harder they are to see, the more difficult they can be to overcome. An old reminder of this came on Saturday night during a seemingly unimportant hockey game between the Boston Bruins and the New York Rangers.
Prior to the opening faceoff, a well-dressed man walked along a black carpet towards centre ice. Clad in a well-tailored French suit, a pink dress-shirt, and a yellow rose in his chest pocket, he looked somewhat out of place among the players in uniform. But this man belonged on the ice as much as any player at the rink that day. It was a place he had known since he was two-years old, skating on a pond outside his native Fredericton, NB. Yet to the majority of spectators looking on, there was little to suggest that this now 72-year-old man had ever been a professional hockey player: least of all his colour.
In the NHL today there are only 14 players of African-American descent, in a game that is often termed pejoratively as a “white sport.” How much more difficult would it have been to imagine then, on January 18, 1958 at the old Forum in Montreal, the man they were now seeing became the first black player to lace up a pair of skates in an NHL game, when he donned the black and gold of the Boston Bruins.
On this night, at Madison Square Gardens he was no longer just the answer to a trivia question, but a man of flesh and blood, in attendance to receive an accolade that was long overdue. Willie O’Ree: hockey player, underdog, symbol.
New challenges
When Jackie Robinson broke the colour barrier in baseball, making his debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, it ushered in a new era. After Robinson, hundreds of thousands of black players would go on to have successful careers in the major leagues. Yet the concept of breaking down a colour barrier, something more abstract than tactile, often creates new challenges of its own. It’s the kind of barrier that becomes more unmoveable the more one thinks it no longer exists.
The Toronto Star, typically grounded in reality, was somewhat idealistic with its premature pronouncements. A 2003 article by Mike Morrison read: “Once an all white enclave in the world of sports, the face of professional hockey is changing.”
Sadly no one watching the National Hockey League today could possibly take this position. Consider that from O’Rees’s first game in 1958 to 1991 only 41 black players suited up for an NHL team. In fact, after O’Ree there was no other black player in the NHL until Mike Marson was drafted by the Washington Capitals in 1974.
Lies, damned lies, and statistics
“There are around 20 black players in the NHL now” said O’Ree during a recent interview. “There’s definitely going to be more in the future,” O’Ree currently works for the NHL as Director of Youth Development for the Hockey Diversity Task Force, so he has more than a vested interest in the outcome.
In reality there are only 14 black players on active rosters as of Jan 18, 2008 (less than one per cent of the league’s overall composition),
“I thought there would have been more minorities in the NHL by now, but I guess it’s slowly growing,” said Darren Lowe, in a 2003 interview with the Star. Lowe, the head coach of the University of Toronto Varsity Blues men’s hockey team, was one of four black players in the 1983-84 NHL season when he played eight games with Pittsburgh.
A number of cultural factors have been suggested for the dearth in black hockey players.
African-Americans make up only two per cent of the Canadian Population and 12 per cent of the American. The United States contributes approximately 15 percent of the players in the NHL, while Canada produces close to 70 percent.
Still, that hasn’t stopped other professional leagues like the NBA, NFL, and MLB from having a visible black presence. The bottom line is one per cent in is unacceptable when considering how other leagues have embraced the diversity of it’s players.
A change for the better
The NHL needs to promote a more inclusive ideology in the sport. Hockey leagues can to often feature a countryclub mentality, denying membership to certain types of people. At some point one has to stop making excuses, cultural or otherwise, for a continuing problem .
Yet Ken Martin, an African-American, and senior director of community relations and diversity programs for the NHL, seems to do just that when he says: “Traditionally, black youths have turned to basketball, partly because some blacks in lower economic areas can’t afford the equipment and travel expenses of hockey”
It’s interesting that the NHL would use such an obvious stereotype to defend accusations of racial bias. But examples of it’s exclusionary culture continue to this day.
How about the story of Dallas defenseman Trevor Daley, who was the recipient of a racial slur from his own head coach with the OHL’s Soo Greyhounds, former NHL goalie John Vanbiesbrouck.
“Each black player has had to wage a personal battle for acceptance and respect,” said Cecil Harris, author of the book Breaking the Ice: The Black Experience in Professional Hockey. “Facing abuse that is verbal, physical or psychological because of their colour has been an unfortunate reality for almost all of them.”
It is perhaps the most compelling reason why there are so few black players in hockey. Many people caught in the same situation would simply quit rather than face the abuse. Not everyone has the strength to be the only black player or player of colour on an all-white team. That’s what makes players like Jackie Robinson and Willie O’Ree are a rarity.
The idea of breaking down barriers can often be misleading, since it suggests that there are no longer any obstacles to entry. In reality, the barriers never really go away, and they are even more dangerous because no one knows it except the people that have to fight through them.
