Derek Boogaard’s death rings on in hockey circles to this day. At least, it should.

Maybe we should start wondering about that.

Boogaard was a 28-year-old New York Rangers enforcer when he died in a Minneapolis apartment on May 13, 2011. An autopsy found a lethal combination of oxycodone and alcohol in his system.

An examination of his brain found worse.

Boogaard had chronic traumatic encephalopathy, commonly known as C.T.E., a close relative of Alzheimer’s disease. It is believed to be caused by repeated blows to the head. It can be diagnosed only posthumously, but scientists say it shows itself in symptoms like memory loss, impulsiveness, mood swings, even addiction.

Brought up in the sport he loved and told fighting was the only ticket to his NHL dreams, Boogaard suffered numerous concussions and grew fatally addicted to painkillers. They staved off his symptoms so he could get back on the ice and keep making a living. And he died for it.

So imagine, just five years later, an NHL player making a lot of money to grind on a fourth line, just like Boogaard, dismissing the very notion of NHL-mandated concussion spotters.

Oh, wait. You don’t have to imagine it. It happened on Monday.

Well-paid Edmonton Oilers grinder Patrick Maroon grumbled about teammate and NHL star Connor McDavid leaving the game for a few minutes under concussion protocol. McDavid had fallen chin-first on the ice but was removed for evaluation just in case.

“This is a man’s game,” the St. Louis, Mo. native said. “People are going to get hit, get high-sticked. They’re going to go through the middle and get hit. That’s part of hockey, and that’s why we have all this gear that protects us. “Yes, if someone gets seriously hurt, we’re concerned. But he just fell, got tripped ... I just don’t get it.” He repeated: “It’s a man’s game.”

Insisting that hockey is a "man's game" only obfuscates the real issue here. This isn't about gender or manliness. Concussion awareness is about living well, especially after your career is over.

It is, however, a demeaning comment to the female fans and players around the world who watch the NHL on a daily basis. Particularly in the case of NWHL and CWHL players, who put themselves at risk every day on paltry (or non-existent) contracts just to play the “man’s game” Maroon is so privileged to play, as well.

But it’s also demeaning to Boogaard. And Marek Svatos, the former NHL player who also died of a drug overdose in early November after dealing with heroin addiction, suicidal thoughts, and depression. At the young age of 34, he left behind a wife and two sons.

Are they not man enough, in Maroon’s eyes? Boogaard died trying to “man up” and stay viable in the NHL. Was Svatos not man enough for that “man’s game” by struggling after his hockey career?

Athletes so rarely see the forest for the trees. From a young age, they focus every ounce of their being on succeeding in their chosen sport. The (at most) 15 years they spend in the big leagues goes by in a flash.

Suddenly, they’re done. Their life in the sport is over oftentimes when they’re still in their 30s. But every hit, every mild concussion, every ache and broken bone and surgery lingers on. The body has been through hell and back for 30 years, and now they have most of their life ahead of them with no idea where to put that drive next.

At least some fans show serious concern for concussions. Former players do. Factions within the NHL may feel concern, and the league has taken the necessary steps to implement a concussion-spotting protocol that did its job perfectly with McDavid this weekend. Even if it’s only for the sake of litigation and not player safety.

But Maroon’s sentiments indicate that the same near-sighted problems with athletes and their own health still remain in sports as violent as hockey. The NHL can force policies all it wants. Fans can demand change.

But what if current players like Maroon still can’t feel the loss of troubled brothers like Svatos or Boogaard and recognize that potential in themselves? How much progress are we really making?

It’s distressing, those Maroon comments. In every possible way. His comments were either dismissive or ignorant, and both are inexcusable in 2016 after players like Boogaard, Svatos, Marc Savard, Eric Lindros, Paul Kariya, Sidney Crosby, and Steve Moore have dominated headlines for two decades. Svatos’ coroner’s report had just hit the presses hours beforehand. “All that gear” that protected them didn’t keep them completely safe.

Player safety can’t improve if current players fail to grasp the concept of life after hockey. Concerns about a minor bump on the head in your playing days suddenly aren’t so trivial when you’re out of the league, struggling to adapt to the life you didn’t spend two decades preparing for while your body struggles to recover from the past life you did embark upon.

Maroon’s comments at least confirmed that those viewpoints exist in hockey. Clearly, they even exist in the upper echelons of hockey media, some of the strongest voices in the sport. Still. Somehow.

Marooon might look back on those sentiments after his career with some regret, as I’m sure a lot of athletes do. Some level of deeper understanding and appreciation for player safety.

Something that should be attainable just by noticing the hole in the hockey community Derek Boogaard and Marek Svatos left behind.