The Current - Making hockey accessible for everyone

Episode Date: December 27, 2024

The rink is like a second home for some during the hockey season, but many Canadians still face obstacles when it comes to getting on the ice. In his documentary from earlier this month, Douglas Gelevan explores what it would take for everyone to be able to play Canada’s national winter game.

In 2017, it felt like drugs were everywhere in the news, so I started a podcast called On Drugs. We covered a lot of ground over two seasons, but there are still so many more stories to tell. I'm Jeff Turner, and I'm back with Season 3 of On Drugs. And this time, it's going to get personal. I don't know who Sober Jeff is. I don't even know if I like that guy.

On Drugs is available now wherever you get your podcasts. This is a CBC Podcast. Hello, I'm Matt Galloway and this is The Current Podcast. Once you're in, hockey can be such a warm and welcoming sport. For many people, that hockey rink is like a second home. For others, though, the barriers to access the game are significant. It feels like their country's national sport is not for them. So where are we falling short and what would it take for everyone to be able to play? Here's Douglas Gellivan and our documentary, Hockey for All.

Paralympic sledge hockey champion Billy Bridges is ringside at the Kinnok Arena in Oakville, Ontario. He's strapped into his sled from the waist down. Practice is over and he's at the bottom of about five steps that lead up from the ice to the locker room. There's no other route. He needs to get up these stairs. In a video that's only 12 seconds long, with a Zamboni going in the background, you see Billy. He's using his Olympic-level athleticism to pull himself up the stairs with his arms. His legs, strapped into the sled, are at a stiff 90-degree angle to his body. Each motion up the steps looks like an awkward and difficult maneuver, but Billy reaches the top.

Later on, he posts a video on social media with a caption. Nothing says you still don't belong here in hockey quite like being assigned a city rink to coach my daughter that is still 100% inaccessible. Billy was born with spina bifida, and he's been playing sledge hockey for more than 25 years. So in a way, an inaccessible arena is old hat. But what happened after he put the video online, Billy wasn't expecting.

In a flood of negative comments, people called him a whiner and worse. This man, who gave 24 years to Canada's national team, earned a reputation of having one of the hardest one-arm slapshots in the history of the game, won multiple world championships and Paralympic gold in 2006. A whiner. It's sad to see all the comments making fun of me and also just saying, like, well, he can do it just fine, so what's he whining about? And that wasn't the point of the post. I wasn't trying to whine. I was just trying to draw awareness of all the hundreds of people that can't do that.

Gold medal or not, that day in the arena and reading the comments on his post afterwards, Billy felt it again. You don't belong here. This game isn't for you. It just sucks that, you know, every able-bodied kid can be brought here on a Saturday afternoon for stick and puck and put on skates for the first time and rent skates and have that Canadian experience and parasports are already niche enough that getting equipment is so hard to do never mind trying to find a place to actually do it.

When they're walking into facilities like this, they're instantly met with these barriers that certainly aren't inviting. Billy didn't always feel like he didn't belong in hockey. Once you're in as an elite player, he says it can feel like living in a bubble of encouragement and support. When you're in the highest level of hockey in Canada, you certainly start to have an elitist mentality and it really narrows your vision on what is out there and what people are doing. The support in that bubble is something that many of us who played the game can relate to.

I grew up playing minor hockey and it was some of the best experiences of my life. My friend's father still has this VHS tape of a game my teammates and I played at the old Coliseum in Quebec City at the Peewee International Tournament in 1997. I still get goosebumps thinking about coming out of the tunnel, wearing the colors of the Halifax Mooseheads, the cameras following our every move. It was such a thrill for myself and my teammates. Now, we were playing AAA, the highest level in the minor leagues for elite players who are expected to make a career out of hockey. We were given almost everything we needed to achieve our full potential, and that included a lot of ice time. We played at least two games a week, we had at

least two additional practices, and then played travel tournaments most weekends. As I remember it, all the adults had nothing but the best intentions for us. Although I'd wager that some had delusions of grandeur that their kid was actually going to make it to the NHL. To be fair, one of us did make it. Our high-flying forward Andrew played one game for the Columbus Blue Jackets, logging 9 minutes and 16 seconds of ice time. While the NHL wasn't the goal for everyone, especially not me, the path to the top level of the sport was there. So, more than a quarter century later, in arenas around Canada, has that kind of focus supporting elite players changed?

Billy doesn't think so. He stepped out of his elite bubble to coach his daughter Kenzie's team, and now he sees the game with fresh eyes. There's just something about hockey that we get these absurd times that the sun is just rising when we're done. The girls were all under eight years old and had to play games between 7 a.m. and 9 a.m. all season long. Not the greatest, but... I mean, you can certainly see the game of hockey trying to grow its interests and grow its roots, but it can be a very divisive sport and can be a bit of an elitist sport as well,

and I feel like that's maybe why those kind of ice times for U8 girls are pushed to these other times to leave the rink open for all their rep teams. It got cold a lot. And often, as Billy sees it, catering to the elite track players comes at the expense of someone else's access to the sport who might not have those same professional ambitions. For a sport that's trying to draw people in and grow, it's certainly not doing itself any favors. Oh my god, it was chaotic.

This morning, especially handing out the jerseys, socks, like name tags. Yeah. Alright. So my name is Linda Mateo, president name tags. Yeah. All right. So my name's Linda Mateo, president and founder of Avalanche Kids. It's day one of a new hockey season on a sunny Sunday morning at the Brebeuf Arena in Montreal. And while Linda's been run ragged with first-day logistics, today's frustrations pale in comparison to the last few months.

It's the constant struggle. The ice time has been a constant struggle for us. Because we're not associated to any type of hockey team or hockey league or under Hockey Quebec's banner, we just don't fit in. Avalanche Kids Hockey is a privately run adapted hockey program for children on the autism spectrum. It's relatively new, this is only its third year, but it fills a gaping need. In Montreal, if you need assistance on the ice, like many autistic children do, you can't play with your local hockey association. And under the provincial authority Hockey Quebec, there are no adapted hockey programs for kids in the city with neurological disabilities. So privately run programs like Avalanche are the only options.

Jennifer Silver is grinning from ear to ear watching her son Matthew on the ice. Well, there never has been a program like this. So he couldn't join a typical hockey school or team and I wasn't able to teach him so the only recourse is that he doesn't learn and so to be able to do this is just unbelievable I was just saying I never thought I would be a hockey mom you know Matthew Liam's name was the full name but if I call my nickname Madnamed Matty by calling myself Matthew. Matthew, what did you do today? Can you tell me what you did? I was skating pretty well. Pretty well?

I skated like a pro. I thought I was going to fail it, but I actually did sit well on the first try. With Avalanche, kids like Matthew are getting access to hockey for the first time. Oh yeah, I love it. You got a good shot. Oh yeah, I love it. You got a good shot. Oh yeah, microphone is cool. You like it? It's puffy. Yeah.

Yeah. Jaden Chen is eight. He's a first-generation Canadian and having so much fun, he didn't want much to do with a journalist. Look, I can record somebody else now. Yep. He had more patience for me off the ice next to the locker room when I wasn't taking up his precious ice time.

Why did you want to play hockey? I liked how my friends played hockey. I really want to do, like, these stuff. Like, I really want to put a puck into a net and stuff. That sounds like a great goal. I really want some experience. Some experience? Of Canada.

It's right in line with what his mom, Jing, wants for him too. I hope he has fun, the first one, and then he can learn how to listen to his coach. And then play, play, play, play. The sights and sounds of a new hockey season are so familiar to Canadians that many of us can just close our eyes. And if we want to, we can feel that wall of cold air mixed with moisture that hits you the moment you walk into an arena. We can see that early morning mist or fog on the ice surface,

hear the sound of skates cutting along the fresh ice, or fog on the ice surface, hear the sound of skates cutting along the fresh ice, and even smell that pungent odour of the locker room. And we may not enjoy that smell, but you have to admit there is nothing quite like it. And parents like Jennifer Silver want nothing more than for their children to be a part of it too. The fact that he now has access is life-changing for him. He's now going

to be able to partake in Canada's national sport and he even knows that. He recognizes that he's now part of something bigger, which makes him feel really special. Keeping this program alive has been a hard-fought victory. Linda Mateo says every municipality and association that she reached out to for ice time sung a similar tune. They'd love to help, they just can't. They need the ice for their kids, and there isn't any extra. In 2017, it felt like drugs were everywhere in the news, so I started a podcast called On Drugs. We covered a lot of ground over two seasons, but there are still so many more stories to tell.

I'm Jeff Turner, and I'm back with season three of On Drugs. And this time, it's going to get personal. I don't know who Sober Jeff is. I don't even know if I like that guy. On Drugs is available now wherever you get your podcasts. Everyone is saying they're going to do a lot of things. No one actually puts them into action. I've had multiple conversations with many organizations.

I think internally they have the right idea. I just don't think that they can make it happen. Either it's out of their control or the resources are just not there. But we're simply asking for ICE. When Linda did finally find an appropriate ICE time, she says the rink demanded Avalanche pay 15% more. Because we're alone. That was the answer. Because you're private. And the argument was very, very clear cut. If you're not part of an organization, then you're private. Doesn't feel like very welcoming.

No, it does not. Autistic children had nowhere to play in Montreal. So Linda created a place. But they have to pay more. We just feel like they don't care, or they don't have any type of empathy towards us, or towards the people that are on the ice. I just feel like it's more of they're looking for renters,

I guess you can say. I think everyone just needs to open up their scope, and they need to start looking at things in a different light. We are playing hockey. We're just playing hockey our way. Hockey is incredibly exclusive as a sport and there are so many barriers in front of kids that want to play. My name is Moiseen Hashem. I'm the executive director and founder of Hockey for Youth Foundation. I met Moiseen outside of a coffee shop in Toronto's East End. Everybody calls him Mo. He's the son of Ugandan immigrants born and raised in British Columbia where he played hockey at a competitive level. Hockey was so formative for him, he's now made it his life's

work to help kids experience it, especially newcomers to Canada. The game has so much more it can do to help newcomers and those who are sidelined to enhance their experiences and their connection to the country. Mo's goal isn't to turn his players into pros or even play competitively. Hockey for Youth provides kids with equipment and funding so they can experience playing hockey in an accepting, positive environment. If they can get ice time, that is. When you have minor hockey organizations that are eating up all the ice time and they're like, well, we need ice time for our U14, AAA team, they take precedence

over a learn to skate, learn to play program. It's like in Toronto, for example, last year we had a group of men who were slotted in right after our newcomer girls program. And what I was told by the municipality was, well, they've had a contract for 20 years, therefore they take precedent over your organization, which is serving the community. Mo's talking about an incident last year where girls in his program had a run-in with a group of men. They were very aggressive. They were not

being understanding or respectful of anyone there. Abraar Al-Muqtaran was at the arena that day. I was volunteer coaching and there was always this group of men that came after us and it was so clear that they were not interested in whatever we were doing. Like, I want to say they hated us, but hate is a strong word, but they did hate us. Abra was 12 years old when she moved out of Syria with her family. She had never played sports before coming to Canada and her parents weren't very keen on her playing hockey when she first brought it up. They thought it was too rough for a woman. She took that as a challenge and signed up anyway.

People are always surprised when they see or know that I play hockey because who looks at me on the street and says, hmm, she looks like a hockey player. Like no one, obviously no one. But it kind of like started conversations. It brought me closer to people and like other friends. But on this day, she was confronted with a dark side of the culture and all because of a misunderstanding.

They thought they had the ice for a full hour. The men thought that they were going to be able to start 10 minutes early. They just jumped on the ice and started shooting pucks. And because it's a learn-to-play program, like the girls, it takes them forever to like skate across the rink and get off the ice. And they were shooting pucks, being aggressive, skating fast. And the girls were freaking out because they did not know what was happening. And honestly, it was very scary because it made us feel like

we did not deserve the ice as much as they did. I don't want to say we deserve it more because it's not up to me anyway, but those men, they have opportunities. they have the privilege to go out and they have the resources to go out and find rinks and find ice time somewhere else but these girls don't have that if they had approached it differently maybe we would have like communicated it better and we would have agreed on something nicely but they started the war. Back at the outdoor cafe Mo says navigating how to access ice across Canada is complex and when you zoom out you can see why. There isn't one system. Hockey Canada says that there's more than 2,800 different authorities managing ice. This includes provincial and municipal hockey associations,

local governments, school boards, and a wide range of private arena owners. Each one has its own way of doing things. From BC to Nova Scotia, what is consistent is the way Mo says he's rejected. They love the idea. they love the concept, they really want to do it, but they're like, we have no ice to give you. There are certain adults that will ruin things. And it's, oh, we have a policy. Well, policy was written by your organization and policy can be changed. It's not we create a policy and it never gets redrafted. What needs to change culturally to make this more of a welcoming game?

I think we need to stop the professionalization of kids' hockey. Right? I've heard it before. Oh, I just, I want my kid to make it. Forget about fun. We need to win. In Nova Scotia, one woman is convinced that there is a better way to manage ice time. I'm Amy Walsh. I'm the CEO of the Future of Hockey Lab.

Amy used to be the executive director of Hockey Nova Scotia. And in that role, she watched as a new girls' hockey program blossomed in Sydney, Cape Breton. And in that role, she watched as a new girls' hockey program blossomed in Sydney, Cape Breton. They've had tremendous growth, but then they all of a sudden couldn't get access to ice. So they wanted to grow more, but they couldn't get access to ice. And they kept running into problems such as grandfathered clauses, problems around availability. So it's one of these things when it's everyone's problem, it's nobody's problem. Amy is gathering data from all areas around Nova Scotia,

and she believes that once she has this data, she can use analytics and artificial intelligence to optimize ice use. We have discovered actually in this project that a number of ice surfaces don't even have a booking system, so it's still pen and paper. So unless you know the rink manager's phone number, or unless you're friends with the rink manager, it's really hard to get access. It's hard to say without seeing all of the data, but it is possible that in some cases, either through policy or unofficially, legacy organizations that mainly manage boys hockey have historical rights to the best ice times and this means new groups of players namely girls are being pushed to the margins as a matter of course hockey canada has

acknowledged this is a challenge facing the game it recently launched a 15-person steering committee looking into what can be done about the barriers women and girls face in the sport working off the assumption that boys systematically get better ice times than girls. It found girls play hockey on average of 2.4 years less than boys, and the retention rate for girls is lower than boys too. Today, about 108,000 players in Canada are female. That's about one in every five players. Hockey Canada wants to increase that number to 170,000 by 2030. This sounds like a great goal on paper, but in practice, if there's a shortage of ice time today, like so many municipalities and rink managers claim, where are all these new players going to play?

And at whose expense? Is the way forward to take ice time away from boys so girls can use it instead? Amy says that's the wrong way to think about it. What a lot of people immediately think of is scarcity. It's the fear of what will happen with that data. So I think we need to think from an abundance mindset. Everyone should have the opportunity to play Canada's game, and I think for that to occur, we need access to ice. All right. Baseball trophy, hockey trophy, hockey trophy.

Wow, okay. That's heavy. My name is Kenzie. I'm eight years old. I love art. My favorite color is orange. Kenzie Bridges is proud of her trophies and loved her teammates on the Penguins and the Squishmallows. But after two years of hockey, she's now a Hockey Canada statistic. She stopped playing. Well, sometimes on hockey teams you have to get up really early, which I don't like. How early? Like six, maybe. Was it still like... Oh yeah, like we've had to

wake up when the sun isn't even up yet. Her dad, Billy, isn't shocked his daughter is done with the sport. He says at times it felt like the schedule was designed to put pressure on girls to quit. You're either going to suck them in or spit them out. And unfortunately, a lot of those ones that leave the sport because of those reasons at a young age don't tend to come back to it. Even without hockey, Kenzie's schedule is full. She does girl guides, karate, rock climbing. She's also into the arts. She puts her sports trophies to the side and pulls out her tablet to show me one more of her other interests. I'll get it on here. Okay. Oh, cool. So I made up this cartoon where I'm a ramp girl and he's um your real boy right yeah and then whenever we're going to fight crime if he can't access a place i can turn into a ramp you have to you made that yeah okay so just

describe to me what's happening frame by frame here so the wand that i was holding holds me into this, into a ramp. And then I have to use my wand to hold him up while his wheelchair turns into that. That's really cool. What an idea. How creative. It really would be nice if there was a wand out there to address accessibility and equitable access in hockey, but it's not that simple. If anything is going to change, Hockey Canada believes it's going to require some unprecedented coordination between rink managers, municipal governments, and hockey associations at all levels.

But with more than 2,800 boards governing hockey in Canada, the odds of that happening feel long. boards governing hockey in Canada, the odds of that happening feel long. Remember Billy's post on social media about the Kinnok Arena not being accessible for him on his wheelchair? Well, the city of Oakville did reach out to Billy after seeing it, and they promised changes. That was in 2022, the day we visited in 2024. We couldn't get inside, but we looked in the window and the stairs are still there. Billy's still carrying on the fight. It just won't be online. I'm never going to speak up again. That doesn't mean I'm not going to stop trying to make this world more inclusive. And, you know, I'm on the Accessibility Advisory Council for the Ministry of Seniors and Disabled People. And, you know, I'm on accessibility committees for certain facilities and trying to make

things better. But I don't know if I ever want to use my public platform for that anymore. To be clear, Billy doesn't think the competitive side of hockey needs to go away. It shaped his life and he's grateful for all of it. But the highest level is so cutthroat that there still needs to be that other side. Billy believes the goal of developing Canada's next star player and winning another gold medal can coexist with the joy of playing the game and connecting with our community and country. Perhaps we as Canadians have to reflect on why that isn't

always happening. But if the next generation can embrace the spirit of Kenzie and Ramp Girl, the odds hockey could truly be and feel like a game for everyone might improve. I just like the idea of everything being more accessible, so I could be a ramp and then he can go up it. That documentary, Hockey for All, was reported by Douglas Gellivan and produced by the CBC Audio Documentary Unit's Michelle Parizzi. For more CBC Podcasts, go to cbc.ca slash podcasts.