Photo illustration by Robb Long

Derek Boogaard

By Anthony Maggio

The fists were flying faster than anyone could dodge them. Their final destination made little difference.

Derek Boogaard had already been pulled off of one unfortunate opponent who decided to cheap shot one of his minor hockey teammates. He'd been in fights before, but, still short of his 16th birthday, this was his first brawl on the ice.

So the linesman attempting to escort Boogaard back to the locker room stood little chance against his adrenaline when an opponent decided to talk trash from what he thought were the safe confines of his own bench. Boogaard ripped free of the linesman's grasp and sprung into the bench area, connecting with any face that wasn't accompanied by a brain smart enough to get its body out of the way.

A scout from the Regina Pats of the Western Hockey League happened to be in attendance that day, and Boogaard was immediately listed. It turned out to be the beginning of a journey that now has "the boogie man" considered one of the top enforcers in the National Hockey League as a winger for the Minnesota Wild.

"Guys that are tough guys have been put down and hurt by him," former target and current teammate Todd Fedoruk said. "As a guy coming in, [he had] the factors of nobody really knowing anything about him and intimidation after seeing what he's done. You don't want to be another one of his victims."

Boogaard is only in his third NHL season, but the list of casualties via Boogaard's fists is already a long one. It's a role he thrives in not only because of his size and strength, but his passion for the job. The first of four Boogaard children, Derek has the older-brother mentality that those charged with the duty of peacemaker on the ice must possess.

The Downtown resident isn't much of a scorer (seven career points) and is an average skater at best by NHL standards, but his job is arguably the most difficult. It takes a special breed to police the other team and take care of any skater foolish enough to get out of line.

"Not everyone can do what we do," Boogaard said. "Not everyone likes to take punches to the head."

That said, Boogaard doesn't try to start trouble, either.

He emphasizes that fighting is a last resort because of the dangers involved. There is a time and a place for it — when an opponent maliciously goes after a teammate or when the team and crowd are lacking energy — and he takes no joy if he hurts someone en route to another victory.

But his heart still beats faster and the adrenaline rush is still there every time he drops the gloves.

"It's what comes out — the aggression of the sport," Boogaard said. "Every sport you get aggression, but you can't do anything about it. That's probably the most frustrating thing and why I've never tried playing football or basketball. That's why I love the sport [of hockey]."

But don't get the wrong impression — Boogaard is soft-spoken and introspective, not a bloodthirsty pit bull who only sees red.

He enjoys relaxing Downtown — first at Heritage Landing in the North Loop where he's had an apartment the last two years and now at The Ivy Hotel and Residence, where he purchased a place this summer. Boogaard's favorite hangouts are Chino Latino and 112 Eatery, and he also enjoys the convenience of many food and drink options nearby. In fact, if he didn't stick out due to his 6 feet 7, 258-pound frame, Boogaard could likely keep his chosen role classified and most would be none the wiser.

Boogaard doesn't like going into details about his fights — most of which he wins — because of the respect he has for the game and his position.

"I don't think its right to gloat," Boogaard said. "You've got to think about the other guy, too. He's doing his job. There are only a few guys in the league who are guys that want to hurt guys and want to exploit it."

Most of those guys stay out of Boogaard's way, and his presence keeps them from going after other Minnesota players.

"There is not a guy in the league that wants to take one of [Boogaard's punches] across the chin," Wild forward Mark Parrish said.

Boogaard would rather not offer up a punch, preferring instead to be a big hitter and keep opponents watching their back while he's on the ice. He's not instructed who to hit or when to stir something up, but Coach Jacques Lemaire said he doesn't need to be — "players know their roles."

After two full seasons of reconfiguring faces — Fedoruk suffered a broken cheekbone last season (while he was with the Ducks) courtesy of Boogaard's right fist — don't expect the fights to slow down.

Sure, there are those who fear what might happen if they wind up trying to land a punch before Boogaard's long reach has them bloody and broken, but coming up big in a fight against Boogaard could be big for one's reputation.

"He's one of the top heavyweights and he's only been around for a couple years," Fedoruk said. "After three years, he's a guy you can make a name for yourself if you can do good against him."

Boogaard is all for it, he likes the challenge. He hasn't seen more skaters trying to pick fights with him yet, but acknowledges it could be coming. Unfortunately for the would-be brawlers he's up against, Boogaard doesn't come with a warning label.

The Saskatchewan native is a boxing fan and watches some fight videos his brother e-mails him before facing some of the other enforcers in the league, but his fighting style is admittedly simple.

"I just pretty much grab and swing away," Boogaard said.

Preparation and technique aren't overrated for Boogaard, but he doesn't spend much time thinking about possible fights in part because of the mental edge he's already gained in less than three years as an NHL skater and the chaotic nature of fighting.

"Anyone can get a lucky punch," Boogaard said. "That's why I think everyone loves it so much. You want the person to win and you're sure he's going to win, but you're not really sure, you know?"

Ever since that first leap into the opposing bench, Boogaard's been the one who seems the certain victor. More often than not, he has been, but even the few losses aren't enough to shake his confidence or his passion for the job.

"I think it's fun," Boogaard said. "I love it. If I didn't love it, I wouldn't be doing it."

Anthony Maggio is a freelance writer who has covered professional, collegiate and high school sports in Minnesota for the Associated Press and PA-Sportsticker, while also appearing in numerous other publications. He lives in St. Louis Park.