K’Andre Miller’s pain is call to action for all of hockey

It would have been heartbreaking in any context to know the pain through which K’Andre Miller has lived, but somehow even more so when remembering how ebullient he was after being selected 22nd overall by the Rangers in the 2018 draft and how at the time the then 18-year-old spoke with pride and about his …

It would have been heartbreaking in any context to know the pain through which K’Andre Miller has lived, but somehow even more so when remembering how ebullient he was after being selected 22nd overall by the Rangers in the 2018 draft and how at the time the then 18-year-old spoke with pride and about his desire to give back to the community.

“Being African American, the opportunity doesn’t come that often. I worked very hard to be in this position,” Miller said in Dallas on June 22, 2018. “And for all the young kids out there, anything is possible.

“Once I get to New York, I’m looking forward to starting to do some community service projects. Getting out in the community and really just getting myself out there. Getting out there and changing a community is always kind of what I’ve wanted to do. To be in this position that I am, is definitely a dream come true.”

But then to learn this week of the suffering this young man has endured as a matter of course, well, it was distressing and should have provided a reminder to us all that neither life nor hockey provides a safe haven unless we all are committed to making it so. It should have reminded all of us to not only take a hard look in the mirror, but also at those to the left and right of us who may perpetuate bigotry and intolerance through inaction as much as action.

For these were Miller’s words contained in a statement he posted on Twitter on June 1 in the aftermath of the death of George Floyd and in announcing his support of the Black Lives Matter movement:

“I struggle because I’ve never been fully accepted by either the black community or white community,” Miller, a native of St. Paul, Minn., wrote. “I struggle because for years I have been one of the only people of color on my hockey teams. I was targeted because of my race when I was in youth hockey by some coaches, parents and players, but I refused to give up because of my love for the game.”

Miller, a 6-foot-4 defenseman, signed an entry level contract with the Rangers this spring following the completion of his sophomore season at Wisconsin. He will compete for a spot on the 2020-21 New York blue line, though chances are he will require an apprenticeship at AHL Hartford.

The organization must be ready for him and must be prepared to provide support in tangible, meaningful ways within the confines of a competitive and far too often macho environment. We know from two years of experience that David Quinn’s humanity, empathy and ability to connect on a personal level are perhaps his greatest assets as a coach, so that should serve the franchise and Miller well, but there must be more than that. The organization needs to construct a support system for its vulnerable athletes. And, of course, so does the NHL.

Miller’s official entry into the world of professional hockey was scarred when his April 3 Zoom conference call meant to introduce him to Rangers fans was defaced by a racist who repeatedly scrawled the n-word over the chat. Statements followed from the organization and the league. But until Miller’s June 1 social media post, he had kept his silence on the horrifying event.

“I’ve struggled for months to find the words to express my frustration and anger … it’s something I won’t ever forget,” Miller wrote. “But with COVID-19 taking a stranglehold on the nation, it seemed like there were so many priorities in the world, that it wasn’t my place to speak out about that incident.”

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It is always the time to speak up and to speak out against bigotry. It is always the time to seek to be better. Words this week from NHL players of color, past and present — including Evander Kane, P.K. Subban, Anson Carter, Kevin Weekes and J.T. Brown — have dignified the national discourse. So, too, have the sentiments expressed by white players — including Logan Couture, Jonathan Toews, Jimmy Vesey, Blake Wheeler and Jacob Trouba.

It was always the time to speak up and speak out against racism in hockey and against bullying in hockey, and that is why the world of organized hockey owes a debt of gratitude to Akim Aliu in specific, and a mountain of apologies to any young man or woman who has been subjected to abuse on the ice, in the room or on the bus.

I have covered fewer than a dozen hockey players of color in more than four decades on the job. I believe I have covered each honestly and fairly without regard to heritage. But I confess that I neither understood nor appreciated the fear, anxiety, vulnerability and stigma each felt as a matter of course in their daily lives. That is on me. I do now. Late in life though it may be, I will strive to be better.

The NHL has pledged to be better and must follow through on its promise. Veterans have spoken up this week, but it is the young generation that will lead socially just as it has taken the lead on the ice. The young generation appears to understand the nature of equality far better than the ones who have come before. So there is reason for hope.

Hockey must be better, starting at the youngest levels of the game, at eradicating bigotry and bullying. We all must be better. A safe and welcoming environment must be guaranteed for all. K’Andre Miller — and all of the K’Andre Millers across this land — deserves no less.

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