Players dedicate their lives to the goal of playing professional hockey and teams demand total commitment from their players, giving them complete control over almost all aspects of the players' lives. With the enormous labour turnover in the AHL and the surplus labour pool, players are extremely vulnerable: they must perform well or be replaced by the scores of other men willing to do the same job. With limited education and limited life skills, players seldom meet people who are not connected to the game and, when they do, they do so with trepidation. The constructed universe of the game consumes the players so that, in spite of any wealth they may accumulate, they often know nothing other than the game and have invested everything in an occupation where their services quickly become obsolete. Far from the sensational memoirs of those few players who make it to the top, Robidoux's Men at Play offers a bracing inside look at the dynamics of the fastest game on earth.
Men at Play is Robidoux's academic account of his fieldwork with an AHL hockey team over the course of a season. His basic observations broaden quickly, posing serious questions about the nature of professional hockey and its effect on the men that play it.
This book covers a lot of ground--philosophical, sociological, psychological, etc.--and it's not the easiest read, but it's definitely worth the effort. Here are some of the points covered.
How did the game pass out of the vernacular and into the professional realm, out of the Native into the colonial, and how was it "formulated to fit the regional climates, landscapes, and sensibilities of Canadian males in the 19th century"? The author covers some of this territory, although it's been covered before. The more interesting discussion is about how, in the contexts of modernization, Europeanization/colonialization and professionalization, the game came to be mechanized, and how that mechanization not only constrains players' actions and thinking, but also, at a certain level, favors creativity: "the systems must be at once followed and subverted if players are to create chances for themselves and their team to achieve victory." Fascinating.
Regarding the players, Robidoux makes an interesting point about how, he believes, the reduction of the player to a body causes him to be diminished, and links this to the way women have been traditionally viewed as little more than bodies: the "patriarchal construct that associates men with mind and women with body." This is a deeper take on the exploitation suffered by these players and, possibly, the violence that some of them exercise outside the rink. Robidoux explains, "once outside the hockey enclosure, the physically dominant model of masculinity loses its validity, and these young men are left with only physical dominance to compensate for their sudden powerlessness."
Of course, violence is a big part of the game itself, too. Robidoux differentiates between the fan's perspective, in which fighting is merely a spectacle, and the player's, in which the blood and the injuries are all too real: "...the act of beating someone up, or getting beaten up, is not staged or fabricated; the players suffer real consequences for their actions." This seems obvious, yet is only in recent years attracting much attention.
Robidoux also writes about how the professional game is set apart from reality--the artificiality of the ice, the "hockey time" on the clock--all the way to the initiation rituals that not only separate the player from ordinary society, but also sublimate him to the team. That these sorts of rituals continue throughout the players' careers leads Robidoux to the conclusion that "the entire hockey experience [is] liminal - which from an outsider's perspective is likely a reasonable assessment." In this regard, there are some interesting questions to be posed about the relationships between players and fans (especially now that so many are on social media), and even about relationships between players and their families.
There's more to this book, but you probably get the idea by now. It isn't the typical glorification of the game and players that we're used to reading, but if you want to go deeper, Men at Play is a great place to start.
This is an ethnographic study of a hockey team, and what it means to be a professional hockey player. Robidoux spent the 1996-97 season with an AHL team (though he uses pseudonyms, it is clearly the St. John's Maple Leafs) and looks at the experiences of hockey players. Though it is at the minor league level he notes there are many similarities regardless of the level, and shows that hockey players live a very closed-off life, one distinct from the rest of society. It can bring some insight for those interested in hockey, but is not a conventional hockey book by any means.
One of the worst books I've ever read. I found myself pretty offended by most of this book, so I returned it to Barnes & Noble. It's not worth the paper it's printed on.