When Derek Boogaard died so tragically in 2011, it was splashed across headlines and the tragedy of it seeped into the pores of hockey fans around the US & Canada. This book goes beyond the headlines and looks at Derek’s life, his rise through the hockey ranks, and his struggles with the pain that came from being a professional hockey player.

To say this is a heart-wrenching story, well, it just doesn’t say it enough. My heart ached for this man who was still so much a boy. He struggled mightily to find a place and some comfort when he wasn’t on the ice; he never found it.

As a hockey fan who, despite having followed the game for at least a dozen years, still considers herself “learning the game,” this book provided amazing insight into the road the players take to make it to the NHL as well as what they go through when they get there. The day I finished this book, I went to a San Jose Sharks game that night – and watched the game with fresh eyes. With every hit, I remembered words from Boy on Ice and thought of Boogaard’s mangled and scarred hands and the agony he endured from taking punches as an enforcer.

I always felt like the NHL was forward-thinking when it came to head-injuries and CTE. I hope the league continues to be a leader in head-injury treatment. What I’d really like to see? Better control of the distribution of the medication that the players obviously need but that seems to be given out like candy rather than like the addictive drugs they are. I understand that controlling a player’s acquisition of pills illegally is much harder but I was appalled at how easily Boogaard got pills legally.

I hope I’m a better fan for having read the book; I feel like I am. I wish the Boogaard family peace – and thank you for sharing your son & his talents with us hockey fans.