Postscript: Dearborn defeated Crestwood, 38-6, last Friday, and this Friday has a rematch with Allen Park. Should the Pioneers win, the next round of the playoffs will fall on Èid al-Fitr, the feast at the culmination of Ramadan.
I think this section is important to the article even though it is written as a postscript. It almost acts as a culmination of the grit that these boys had during their time both fasting and playing football. It also ends the piece on a happy note.
They have moved their families onto the city's affluent West Side, formerly the stronghold of white ethnics.
This sentence shows how Arabs really only came here recently and have flourished in American society. I think this is evident in how at Dearborn High School, there is equal representation in activated for Muslim students.
So Dearborn High is a place where the cafeteria serves halal chicken nuggets, girls wear the hijab along with embroidered jeans, the Ramadan food drive gets equal time with the Key Club on morning announcements, and -- to come back to football -- Mohammad Kassab leads his Muslim teammates in al-Fateeha, the prayer that asks God's protection in both spiritual and physical ways, before every game. The divine one notwithstanding, Mohammad also has a favorite cheerleader hold his peanut-butter sandwich on the sideline for iftar.
In this paragraph, Freedman is taking average American life and showing us how these Muslim students have adapted to it and made it their own. Freedman also wants to show the reader that despite these kids having different traditions and prayers, they still are like any normal American kid.
"When you start your day off fasting and you get to football at the end of the day, that's the challenge," said Hassan Cheaib, a 17-year-old senior. "You know you've worked hard. You know you've been faithful. And that makes you much tougher out on the field. You have to have a crazy mentality out on the field, and after fasting all day, you feel like a warrior."
The quotes from Cheaib are important because they have a two contrasting ideas. He says fasting is a challenge but it also makes you feel like a warrior.
As much as football meant to him, as much as it mattered to win, those things only counted for Ali if he was also staying true to Allah.
I like this sentence a lot. Freedman wants to show us Ali's ranking of priorities by placing football and Allah, the two things that probably matter most to him at that moment, in the same sentence
Since it was Ramadan, the Muslim holy month of daylight fasting, Ali would not eat or drink again until the sun set in nearly 14 hours. By then, Dearborn would be lining up against Crestwood High, knowing that a victory would put the Pioneers into the state playoffs and a loss would end the season with a mediocre record of 5-4.
Freedman is building a high stakes situation, the football game, on top of the fact that Ali is fasting. He wants the reader to almost put themselves in the shoes of Ali. He does with imagery and descriptive language of what was happening.
Last season, in 53 games with the Laredo (Tex.) Bucks of the Central Hockey League, Aaron Boogaard had two goals and 172 penalty minutes. He fought 20 times.
Seriously? Why would Boogaard's brother do exactly what killed his brother?
They also refused to address specific questions about Boogaard’s medical care, concussions, addiction and rehabilitation, or the availability of drugs through team doctors.
Branch says this many times as he is trying to signal that He thinks that the NHL is hiding things because they messed up really bad and let down Boogaard and his family.
He noted that fights were down slightly this season.
This is huge. The people who start the fights, the enforcers, are fighting less. This is because they know how deadly it is. This is exactly why Branch included this little side note.
Linking C.T.E. to Boogaard’s rapid descent in his final years is complicated by his drug addiction.
I don't think it's too complicated rather they play hand in hand. As Boogaard took hits he developed CTE and along with the bruises to his body he took medication that destroyed his vulnerable (because of the CTE) mine.
The N.H.L. is not convinced that there is a link between hockey and C.T.E.
Obviously, why would they admit hockey links to CTE because then they would just have less players and fans and go out of business. Sports is a business too.
“I knew this was going to happen,” he cried.
If you knew this would happen why would you leave your son alone? I don't know why Branch would include this because honestly it just made me question why the dad wasn't taking better care of his clearly sick son.
“He was miserable,” Aaron said.
Boogaard puts on a persona and goes out with his friends at night. In reality, he is miserable and has a detoriating brain. Branch keeps binging up his condition to show us how bad it was at this time of his life.
Friends thought he was vacationing.
It is super important to have a support circle through tough times like this and his circle was not even on the same page as him.
Len Boogaard played a DVD of family photos and home movies. He reminded his son of everything he went through to reach New York — the family moves, the bullying, the naysayers of youth hockey, the struggles through juniors and the minor leagues.
This is his father's attempt to try and reel him back in. Boogaard isn't the same as he once was and his father knows that.
But with Boogaard out of the lineup, the number of visitors waned. Boogaard grew desperate for company. His January cellphone bill needed 167 pages to detail calls and text messages, some to people who had not heard from him in years. February’s bill consumed 222 pages. It listed 13,724 text messages.
Branch, yet again, uses specific numbers and this time I think he does it to emphasize Boogaard's loneliness and how much of a social toll this has taken on him
During a rematch minutes later, few noticed a MacIntyre jab that broke Boogaard’s nose and most likely gave him a concussion. Boogaard missed one game and played the next.
Just reading through things like this is crazy to me. In high school sports if you get a concussions you're most likely gonna be gone for 1-2 months. Boogaard was almost back right away. I know that enforcers would hide concussions but is it really worth it man?
The line between needing drugs for pain and wanting them for celebration blurred.
As his brain deteriorated, his sense of judgment did too.
In one three-month stretch of the 2008-9 season with the Wild, Boogaard received at least 11 prescriptions for painkillers from eight doctors — including at least one doctor for a different team, according to records gathered by his father, Len Boogaard. Combined, the prescriptions were for 370 tablets of painkillers containing hydrocodone, typically sold under brand names like Vicodin.
You can connect what happened to Boogaard ten years ago to the opioid epidemic that America is currently experiencing. At this time, people could do stuff like this but, today, most doctors avoid opioid use as much as possible and are taught more holistic methods.
Boogaard was embarrassed and worried that news of his addiction would shatter his reputation. He was also concerned that someone would take his role.
It seems like all of Boogaard's actions, even when he was a young enforcer, are motivated by fear and worry. He is always worried about making it to the next level or scared to get moved down a level. However, is it a sport at that point if every action is out of fear?
Two other N.H.L. enforcers died, reportedly suicides, stoking a debate about the toll of their role in hockey.
This issues behind enforcers in hockey, tragically, has become much bigger than hockey itself and then lives. Branch gets the reader thinking about the passing of time, "One month. Two,. Three.", then he suddenly brings in the sad news of two other deaths. Branch has used numbers to emphasize things before and I think he does it again here to show how deadly this really is.
“After fighting for a while, they seemed to have susceptibility to personality issues such as depression or anxiety and addictions.”
Branch is building up the idea of player's changing as they progress as enforcers starting with talking about Boogaard's steaks and clothes. I think that he repeatedly talks about players changing because it is what eventually leads to Boogaard's death.
“No way. I would have done something else.”
Even an NHL enforcer says that they wouldn't have done it looking back. I think this comments on just how badly the effects of fighting have hurt him and other enforcers.
The rest of the damage, physical and mental, he liked to hide.
I think this an interesting sentence that, in my eyes, comments on the nature of hockey and even boys. There is a unwritten rule to hide emotions and mental problems.
“So I got a pita for six bucks, and a Coke, and went back to the hotel room,” Len Boogaard said. “Room service finally showed up, and he had a steak, very small, some veggies on the side and a Coke. And it was 95 bucks. I said, ‘What?’ And that’s when he put up his hand and said: ‘Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s the lifestyle.’ ”
An important contrast between the life Boogaard grew up knowing (the life his dad still lives) and the new lifestyle that is now necessary to fit the part.
Boogaard went nearly five years between N.H.L. goals and scored three times in 277 games. He spent 1,411 minutes on the ice and 589 minutes in the penalty box.
Repetition from the last article of using the minutes he played and the minutes in penalties. Boogard doesn't really "play" a lot. He does his "work" and takes the consequences.
The Wild led, and Boogaard stood and jeered — or chirped, in hockey parlance — from the bench. The Ducks chirped back.
The author uses language that is usually associated with animals. I think he does this to show animalistic behavior.
“When a team scores, the fans of the team that scored will get on their feet. But when there’s a fight, everyone gets on their feet.”
To me it seems like the fighting part of hockey > the actual hockey. I think is partly because enforcers see the fighting as work and they forget about the play which is the actual sport.
The fight lasted about a minute.
All of the details and the dynamic way the author describes the author make you think the fight was way longer. Maybe the author does this to emphasize that the small minute that fighting happens is extremely stressed in hockey.
super-heavyweight
Boxing language is used to describe a hockey fight.
They barked in the casual language of enforcers: You wanna go? Let’s go. Each man dropped his stick from his right hand. They shook their gloves, worn loose for such occasions, to the ice. They pushed up their sleeves. It was just another fight — yet memorable and telling.
This isn't the first time that we see this routine used by enforcers. Our author is trying to show us how normalized this is in the NHL.
Some are a restless player’s way of proving himself to his team.
I think our author uses the word restless to relate back to Boogaard's early stage career. He was desperate to prove himself to the teams he bounces around on.
In football, as in most sports, such conduct would end in ejections, fines and suspensions.In hockey, it usually means five minutes in the penalty box and a spot in the postgame highlights.
Our author uses compare and contrast to show the reader what can happen in hockey games as opposed to a football gam when fights happen. I think the author uses this technique to create a sense of reconsideration in this hockey tradition from his readers.
The best way to protect top players from violent onslaughts, teams have long believed, is the threat of more violence, like having a missile in a silo. Teams employ on-ice bruisers, the equivalent of playground bodyguards. Hurt one of us, and we will send out someone bigger, tougher to exact revenge.
This paragraph explains why enforcers are a thing, besides the entertainment factor.
I never fought mad. Because it’s a job, right?
This made me think of our theme of work and play. To NFL enforcers, it is the same thing. Work and play both mean enforcing in hockey to him.
Seven seconds after their gloves dropped, the damage was done. Surgeons inserted metal plates and a swath of mesh to rebuild the right side of Fedoruk’s face. His career was never the same.
I think the author uses the time (7 seconds) that all of this damage occurred to show us just how lethal the punch of Boogaard was.
How would he write when he got old?
I think this author asks the question to not only get us thinking about how he will write when he's older, but how he will go on if he continues this dangerous lifestyle.
He scored only once in 61 games for Prince George in 2000-1. He recorded 245 penalty minutes, ranking eighth in the W.H.L. He was, finally, an enforcer, appreciated by one team, feared by all others.
The author uses the two varying numbers and, actually, does this before too. I think he does this to show us how little hockey he actually played but how key his role was.
Boogaard started to win fights.
Even though the author says this is a sudden thing, I think it is the direct result of a finally constant and happy home life.
Instead of losing weight, he gained about 25, 30 pounds that summer, while his jaw was wired shut. It was incredible.”
A funny anecdote that I think the author is using to illustrate something more serious. Boogaard thought he NEEDED to be stronger and bigger so he couldn't let this jaw problem interfere with that.
And Boogaard bounced from one host family to another, unable to create a facsimile of his once-stable home life.
Facsimile - An exact copy of something. At first, I didn't know what that meant it makes sense. Boogaard bonded with his siblings when he was young and had constant dialogue and support from his parents. Now, he doesn't have that.
Boogaard was expected to step into the character, leading with his fists.
An interesting sentence. He steps into character LEADING with his fists. His fists are the first part of his character and what society values the most about him.
Fritz won. Boogaard was traded. There is not much use for an enforcer who loses fights.
Again, a failed fight proves to be very detrimental to his hockey career because of how important fighting is in this sport and, in turn, Boogaard's mind.
The Regina Pats wanted him back in training camp. Desperate to prove himself, he fought teammates 12 times in four scrimmages.
The author builds this idea repeatedly that Boogard lives and dies by the fight.His fighting is the wya he advances and demotes in hockey. I think this is done because it shows how much value Boogaard placed in fighting.
He knew he wasn’t going to be good enough to make it on skills alone, and he used his size to his advantage. I remember him at 16 years old, pushing weights and boxing and stuff like that. He knew his job.”
Boogard knew exactly what he needed to do to elevate in his sport of hockey.
The unwritten rules were well established.
Here I noticed the juxtaposition or even oxymoron of the words "unwritten" and "established". Even though these rules were not written at all they were well known and solidified. I think the author is trying to show the really real nature of a unofficial part of the game of hockey.
Veteran executives recall games where the only way to stop the brawls was to shut off the arena lights.
Shows the extremes that some fights went to. Grown men were not able to separate these teenage players so they had to shut the lights off. Shocking.
Ripplinger and Parker scribbled a note saying that the Regina Pats wanted to add Derek Boogaard to their roster.
Interesting to think that something about hockey that can get you successfully scouted is your fighting ability.
His knees ached from the growth spurt.
This is extremely relatable. Growing a lot, especially in the case of myself and David Boogaard, can lead to extreme pain when playing sports and can honestly make you dislike the sport for a period of time.
The teacher asked Boogaard for an alternate plan. Boogaard said he did not have one.
The author is repeatedly bringing up the idea that Boogard had nothing else but hockey and the life that came with it. I think that the author is doing this to show us just how significant hockey was in Boogard's life.
They were rough-and-tumble days, and even Krysten — the youngest, on her way to 6 feet 5 — was pulled into the scrums. “Cage raging” began in elementary school and continued in hockey dressing rooms as teenagers.
Proves the sheer size of this family if the younger gesticulates sister was on her way to 6'5". The siblings shared an enthusiasm for physicallity that probably was part of the reason Boogaard became such a well known fighter.
The family was determined to provide positive reinforcement. Hockey was one way.
Hockey was supposed to provide positive reinforcement for David but that is not what it really did in the end.
He was hardly a bully. Paradoxically, he was picked on largely because he was so big.
I noticed irony here. Usually and stereotypical, the bully is the largest kid and saying that he was bullied because he was the largest person is ironic.
“I remember when I would sit in the bench I would always look for my mom or my dad in the stands,” Boogaard wrote.
I think the writer is trying to give Boogaard a meaningful personality and backstory that shows he was more than the monstrous fighter we know him as.
It meant stopping after school for gas and a Slurpee as the winter dusk settled early on the prairie. It meant a postgame meal of rink burgers, the snack-stand staple that warmed the belly against the bitter cold. It meant a radio usually tuned to hockey — maybe the Toronto Maple Leafs, Derek’s favorite team, or the hometown junior league team, the Melfort Mustangs. And it meant falling asleep in the dark of a winter’s night, awakened by the warm light of the family garage.
I noticed that Branch is using parallelism in this part. I think that he uses, "It meant..." because he wants to show us what effect youth hockey had on his young life and how this background built him into the person he eventually was.
It cast his family, like those of other officers who are part of the sprawling Canadian carousel of small-town law enforcement, into roles as perpetual outsiders.
Boogaard and his family were moving all over Canada and the article says that because of this they were outsiders. This makes sense because moving schools and towns can lead to being an outsider. Im wondering how this had an effect on Boogaard's life? My initial thought is that it led him to like gaining popularity in any way possible, even fighting.
three goals
3 goals in 6 seasons with 589 penalty minutes? The author places these numbers which vary drastically next to each other to emphasize something
He did not acknowledge the damage to his brain, the changes in his personality, even the addictions that ultimately killed him in the prime of his career.
This was the effects behind the barbaric fighting that entertained millions. Was it worth it?
Boogaard could fight his way there with his bare knuckles, his stick dropped, the game paused and the crowd on its feet. And he did, all the way until he became the Boogeyman, the N.H.L.’s most fearsome fighter, a caricature of a hockey goon rising nearly 7 feet in his skates.
His rise in hockey wasn't because of his hockey skill, but because of his fighting skills. We can tell he was pretty good at it too and became one of the most fearsome fighters in all of hockey. However, if he likes fighting so much, why doesn't he just box?
Boogaard was exhilarated, exhausted, relieved. Maybe the fear was extinguished, but it always came back, like the flame of a trick candle.
Boogard was pushed to fight by coaches to fight and it is interesting to see how he felt after doing so. He says that he went into it with fear. So why do it?
It was time.
A common part of hockey is for opponents to fight it out on the ice. It makes you think about the nature of this "sport". I put quotations around sport because sports are supposed to be fun and positive. Is fighting like this fun and positive?
“I’m going to kill you,” the player said.
This really threatening comment from a random guy on the other team shows the intense nature of sports that occurs sometimes.
His father bought a program the night before. Boogaard scanned the roster, checking heights and weights. He later recalled that he barely slept.
Sports fans understand that these types of programs that are handed out before sports events usually have super boosted stats for each player. A basketball player who is hardly 6'0" and 160, may be listed as 6'3" and 180.
He did not know whom he would fight, just that he must.
I think this sets the tone for the article. By saying that he must do something it gives you the idea that Derek Boogard has some sort of obligation to fight and that it is not his choice.
Talk about a comeback year. "You've got to understand," says theteam's president, Neil Walsh. "We all go to each other'sweddings, christenings, graduations. I broke your brother in,and your dad broke me in, and I carried your son out of thepile. We're all brothers."
It's really interesting that sometimes in life the most tragic of events can bring together the strongest and happiest groups of people.That's exactly what has happened with this group.
One last time, Danny pulled Tommy out ofthe pile.
Wow. This is a very moving use of the phrase pulling somebody out of the pile. I think our author is trying to humanize and put a strong relationship behind this tragedy.
Damn right," says fullback Tom Narducci."It's tradition."
The idea of doing something because it is a tradition is interesting. Is there a line when a tradition maybe needs to stop in the wake of a tragic event? Or is it better to go on with tradition despite tragedy?
The New York City Fire Departmentfootball team starts its National Public Safety League seasonnext week missing seven starters, 12 alums and two coaches. Butthe firemen are playing. Hell, yes, they're playing.
Right off the bat, I think our author, Reilly, wants to show his readers just how tough this team of firefighters really is. Despite losing numerous members of there team during the collapse of the World Trade Center towers, they still are undoubtably playing.