I have been a lifelong hockey fan. From playing pond hockey and listening to the newly franchised Buffalo Sabres on WGR in the early 1970s, to sitting in the United Center in Chicago cheering on my adopted Chicago Blackhawks, I have loved the game for as long as I can remember. I was thrilled that for nearly 27 years I have been blessed to live near a city that has a team that actually wins (Buffalo never has won the Stanley Cup).
Last week, however, I watched in horror when Blackhawks owner, Rocky Wirtz, showed the world that generations of wealth and entitlement have made him out-of-touch and completely tone-deaf. When asked what the team was doing to make sure a sexual assault such as Kyle Beach’s would never happen again within their ranks, Wirtz told reporters: “What we’re going to do today is our business. I don’t think it’s any of your business. You don’t work for the company.”
Listening to his angry rants during the ill-fated town hall meeting, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. Although Wirtz understandably preferred to talk about the general manager search, he should have known the Kyle Beach question likely would arise and at least feigned some humility and regret for the sake of the future of the company. He is, after all, the one making the big bucks and setting the tone for the organization. Instead, he came off sounding like a mob boss protecting his outfit, while alienating fans and ticket holders such as I.
I’d like to say we are taught from childhood that there are more important things than winning, but that’s not how it actually works. Each time an athlete moves up a level, from children’s sports teams, to high school, to college, to professional, winning becomes more important because money becomes part of the equation. In professional sports, winning is the only thing that matters if coaches want to retain jobs and players don’t want to be traded. The physical and psychological safety of players is little more than an after-thought.
It’s easy to say that doing the right thing is more important than winning, but for most, including decision-makers in the Blackhawks company, that is not the reality. The Kyle Beach sexual abuse case was clear proof that the Blackhawks count themselves amongst organization that are quite willing to sacrifice their athletes on the altar of success.
Contrary to Wirtz’s angry assertion that we aren’t going to talk about this and “We’re moving on,” I think he may find that moving on is more difficult than he anticipates with shocked, embarrassed, ambivalent, fans, and frustrated, demoralized, players. I see the effort our players individually put forth in games. Still, we are near the bottom of the Central Division, only ahead of Arizona, a place where, prior to getting a hockey team from Winnipeg, fans had more ice in their drinks than under their hockey skates. I don’t anticipate much success until we get our house in order.
I still love hockey and I want to love Chicago hockey, but I don’t think I’ll be truly excited about it in Chicago until Rocky Wirtz steps down.