PAY TO PLAY: Second in a three-part Spectator series about the OHL and the financial factors involved for players and hopefuls.

Dry-land training, power skating, conditioning sessions — kids as young as five are being enrolled in programs costing as much as $15,000 a year just to give them a shot at the Ontario Hockey League. What does this mean for the kids who can't afford it? A year-long investigation by The Spectator's Teri Pecoskie reveals they are being left out in the cold.

A family from sun-drenched, sand-coated country moves halfway around the globe and falls in love with a game played on ice. A pitch for a CBC sitcom?

No, it's life for the Mohameds.

Fatma, Saber and their eldest child, Mohamed Mohamed, immigrated to Hamilton from Egypt seven years ago so that Saber, a mechanical engineer, could study at McMaster University. Since then, the family has doubled in size with the addition of Fatma, Heba and baby Jannah — the only one of the bunch who has yet to try Canada's national winter sport.

"It's amazing," says Saber. "I never expected they could do it, because we're not coming from a country that is cold where everybody plays hockey.

"I never expected they could do it, but they could."

Online extra On weekend mornings before dawn, Fatma Mohamed and her children travel 10 kilometres by foot and bus to take part in the Hamilton Minor Hockey Council's initiation program at the Mohawk 4 Ice Centre — the only rink in the city at which it's offered. This is their trip.

The couple hopes that one day one of their kids will be able to play for Team Canada. And, while they don't want to put any pressure on him, "Mohamed is fast," says his father, "very fast."

Fatma and Saber are so convinced of his potential that, even without a vehicle, they're willing to make an hour-long trek to a rink across the city in order to get him and his siblings to games.

The sad truth, however, is no matter how fast or how skilled or how hardworking their eight-year-old son is, he will probably never play competitive hockey, let alone wear the Maple Leaf. The odds of Mohamed even making it to the Ontario Hockey League — the top tier for junior-aged talent in this province — are astronomically small.

The reason is in the numbers.

Over the past several months, The Spectator cross-referenced postal codes with demographic data to reveal a highly significant number of the OHL's Ontario-raised players come from a small and exclusive sliver of society where incomes, housing values and post-secondary education rates are abnormally high and poverty levels are extremely low — a sliver of society that doesn't include Mohamed.

He comes from somewhere else.

There is no single reason why hockey, particularly at more competitive levels, is inaccessible to an overwhelming number of children in Hamilton and beyond. However, the sheer cost of the game is probably the major hurdle.

Between registration and team fees, the family of a local minor midget AAA player — the age group and level generally drafted to the OHL — can expect to pay around $4,500 a season. That doesn't count equipment, gas, hotels, food, lost time at work or any extras, such as power skating or spring hockey, which can easily run up the tab to $15,000.

Even initiation programs are pricey. For instance, the recreational program that introduced the Mohamed kids to the game costs $445 for registration alone — roughly three times the fee for soccer.

It hasn't always been so expensive. So why is it now?

In a book chapter titled "Goodbye, Gordie Howe: Sport Participation and Class Inequality in the 'Pay for Play' Society," Richard Gruneau breaks it down.

A series of dramatic changes in Canadian society are "transforming community sports clubs and undercutting the abilities of municipalities and public school systems to offer cost-effective activities for kids from less affluent families," he writes. And minor hockey associations are no exception.

One difference is they're becoming more professionalized, he tells the Spectator. For example, coaches are now required by their associations and Hockey Canada to take coaching and safety courses — the cost of which are covered by these associations. And where does that money come from? Players' registration fees.

Having to pay people to do tasks once done by volunteers — ice scheduling, for one — is another factor, as are reduced subsidies for ice time, which used to be paid by communities (Hamilton, which actually increased its share of the cost of subsidized rink rentals last year, is an anomaly — although the overall price of ice, for everyone, still went up).

To top it off, says Gruneau, a professor in Simon Fraser University's school of communications, urbanization has gutted the mill town and mine towns that, for generations, were both hotbeds for the sport and a "major source of professional hockey players."

A "perfect storm" of socioeconomic conjunctures and changes has "created a situation where hockey has just simply become out of reach," he adds.

A growing movement toward privatization and sport specialization has also contributed to the ballooning costs of the game — and you don't have to look far for proof. Talk to the parents of any competitive hockey player and you'll see most of them share a common and increasingly justified fear: without year-round hockey, or at least some supplemental training, their child will fall behind.

Brandon Saigeon, seen at left above, is a perfect case.

Years before the 18-year-old forward slipped into a Hamilton Bulldogs jersey, he was working on his strength with an off-ice trainer. He started power skating lessons at nine, and quit other sports altogether at 13.

His commitments only intensified when he cracked the OHL in 2014. Now, the Grimsby native's off-season schedule is a seven-day-a-week blur of weights, stretching, hill runs, yoga, power skating and skill development. He also plays four-on-four in a local league every summer.

According to Saigeon's chiropractor dad Brent, who was a national team tennis player, these activities, as well as a strict focus on hockey alone, are non-negotiable.

"You have to," he says.

His wife, Charlotta, a teacher and former Swedish Olympian, nods.

"In the olden days, Gretzky and them, they took the summer off," she says — but now, you can't get away with that. "If you don't work hard in the summer, the coach will know in a second."

Online extra During the offseason, several local OHL players work out with Adam Lloyd at ALP Training Institute in Stoney Creek. We paid them a visit to ask: What's the bare minimum a player can do and still make it to the OHL today?

This mentality isn't exclusive to OHL families. One rep league in Halton advertises 52 hours of on-ice practices and training, including skating treadmill sessions, dry-land conditioning and power skating, as a perk for its novice players — those are seven- and eight-year-olds. Meanwhile, a flyer spotted in a Burlington rink promotes advanced power skating clinics for kids as young as five.

The private sector movement started with hockey camps and has expanded to include a long list of year-round extras, says Peter Donnelly, a University of Toronto professor who studies sport and inequality. The whole thing is a growing industry — the so-called sports-industrial complex — and it's minimizing opportunities for low- and middle-income families, especially at elite levels of the game.

"The private sector has moved in as austerity policies have hit municipalities and provinces and whole countries," he explains. "Money has been cut to public recreation and facilities have become more expensive to rent.

"Almost every recreation program in every city in Canada now has user fees attached, with just some small grants to low-income families. And that puts ice out of reach for most kids."

Here's the irony. A growing body of evidence suggests this intensive and specialized focus on hockey could actually damage a player's potential in the long run.

Before he took over as president and general manager of the Bulldogs, Hamilton native and former NHLer Steve Staios oversaw development for the Toronto Maple Leafs. He says there's no doubt — players today are progressing at a faster rate than previous generations because they're on the ice more and training at a younger age.

"As a society," he adds, "we're becoming much more sport-specific earlier, which I think can be a mistake sometimes."

Staios says in his experience working with Leafs prospects, the more well-rounded players continued to develop into their 20s, while those who played only hockey from a young age had much more trouble. They get injured, or they get burned out. That's part of the reason his own kid — 15-year-old Nathan, who plays for a AAA minor midget team in Vaughan — skates less than many of his peers.

"The one thing I've always thought with my son, and that I do recommend to parents, is that you always want to leave them wanting more," he says. "In saying that, to a certain degree those parents are right — if you do nothing in the summer, the athlete will fall behind."

It's an intractable problem. Train too much and you hurt your long-term potential. Train less (either by choice or necessity) and risk not making it at all.

Consider this.

In Hamilton, there are two AAA clubs — the Huskies, which draw players from Wards 1 through 8 (the old city), and the Jr. Bulldogs, which draw players from Wards 9 through 15 (the suburbs). Despite having a larger pool of the city's population to pull from, the Huskies have had relatively few players — 16 — drafted to the OHL over the past decade. The Jr. Bulldogs had 56.

The explanation is simple, says Huskies general manager Mike Spadafora. The kids who play for the Jr. Bulldogs come from more affluent neighbourhoods and families — backgrounds that afford them better access.

"You're power skating sooner and more often, you're buying better instruction for your son, so I think that's a major part." he adds. "The major part to me is the money. It's always been the money. I've always told people you can't compare the two. It's unfair."

When it comes to hockey opportunities, cost is only one roadblock. A parent's field of work, marital status, education and even social connections can affect their child's ability to access the game.

The same goes for geography.

According to a city report, the Hamilton Minor Hockey Council lost 766 players between 2006 and 2012 — around 16 per cent of its overall registration. The greatest losses were in the lower city.

The numbers have since levelled out, says council co-chair Gerry Potter. Sort of. Registration is continuing to grow in outlying areas, such as Glanbrook and Dunnville, and continuing to drop north of the escarpment. As a consequence, three minor hockey associations have shut down over the last several years — Scott Park, Parkdale and Eastwood.

It was "very unfortunate," says Potter, but it just wasn't viable for them to continue. "You can't run an association with one team in a division, for example. It's just not cost effective."

What it means, though, is there is no longer a single minor hockey association in the area north of Fennell Avenue from the Red Hill Valley Parkway to Highway 403 — more than 50 square kilometres spanning some of Hamilton's more diverse and disadvantaged neighbourhoods. That means families in the lower city have to travel a significant distance for their kids to play — a major barrier, particularly if they have no way of getting there.

Hamilton hockey associations INTERACTIVE: The grey icons are the headquarters for Hamilton's minor hockey associations. The yellow area is the catchment for the Hamilton Jr. Bulldogs; the red, the Hamilton Huskies. Click to see more info.



An alarm screams in the Mohameds' one-bedroom apartment on Jackson Street West.

It's 5 a.m. Saturday, the start of their weekly pilgrimage.

Over the next two hours, Fatma and her four children — one-year-old Jannah, three-year-old Heba, six-year-old Fatma and eight-year-old Mohamed — will dress, eat and travel more than 10 kilometres by foot and bus to the Mohawk 4 Ice Centre on Mountain Brow Boulevard.

It's not a nice trip — not in the winter, not with a stroller, and certainly not when you're lugging a bag stuffed with hockey gear. On the bus, people sneer and complain about the equipment, says Fatma. The ride isn't the worst of it, though. It's the walk.

The closest stop is nearly a kilometre from the rink, and there's no sidewalk once you cross the bridge at Buttermilk Falls. The city has tried to address the gap with a shuttle service — a trial — but, since it runs just once every 45 minutes, the timing doesn't always line up. So, the family treks to the rink on the shoulder of the road. And drivers honk.

The Mohameds' journey "I have kids," she says. "It's not my fault."

There's no alternative for Fatma if she wants her children to play hockey. The program isn't offered elsewhere and they can't afford a car — not on her husband's income of roughly $15,000 a year. Neither she nor Saber, who has a PhD in engineering, has been granted permanent residency, which is a big part of the reason he hasn't found work outside of research and teaching assistantships at the university. It's also why they don't qualify for benefits, such as Ontario Works.

If it weren't for city and minor hockey council funding, the Mohameds wouldn't be able to afford registration (in fact, now that their son Mohamed has graduated to the family is struggling to patch together the fee). Fatma is extremely grateful for what help they get — it has a way of making the long, cold commute up the Escarpment a little easier to bear.

"It's really worth it," she adds. "I have to go because they love it. And to be honest, I love it too."

The good news is a range of supports exists to assist families like the Mohameds access hockey in Hamilton and across Ontario. Unfortunately, there's a catch.

Even if they're preternaturally talented, the overwhelming majority of children who require help will never suit up at a level higher than house league. They can play, but they can't compete.

Here's the reason.

In general, the programs that help the Mohameds and others earmark their funding for recreational hockey. It can't be used for competitive registration and often doesn't touch other barriers, such as equipment or transportation, not to mention those extras that are all but necessary for moving up the hockey ladder today. The Dave Andreychuk Foundation, which gave $100,000 to the minor hockey council over the past decade, is just one example.

The idea is this model allows more children to be involved in the sport at low (less expensive) levels, rather than few at high (pricier) levels. It's a trade-off and, with the need for assistance apparently on the upswing (the HMHC says 66 kids accessed its low-income fund last season up from an average of 25), it makes sense.



Correction Published: 20161029 - In Part 2 of our Pay to Play series published Friday, we incorrectly identified Hamilton Huskies general manager Mike Spadafora. The Spectator regrets the error.

Landon French is the president of Canadian Tire Jumpstart, a national charity that helps children — including 484 in Hamilton over the past three years — access recreational sports opportunities. He explains the funding philosophy:

"We keep the amount of money we offer at a certain level so we can help more kids, get them interested in sports, and really get them over the hump of registration. That's where we really try to focus on house leagues and rec leagues and, generally, whether it's hockey or any other sport, just having fun," he says. "The focus isn't on performance. It's absolutely activity and fun and the social benefits of playing."

But is it fair?

"It doesn't mean that those kids can't be outstanding athletes and don't go on to be outstanding athletes," he adds. "We've got examples in sports like basketball and soccer of kids that have received Jumpstart funding that are playing on national teams or that get NCAA scholarships."

French proceeds to mention Kadeisha Buchanan, a program grad, who now plays soccer for Team Canada. However, when asked for a hockey example — even someone who has gone on to play in the OHL or a AAA league — he falls short.

"Hockey," he says, pausing. "We don't have any hockey examples I can point to offhand."

Spadafora, the club manager, isn't surprised.

"If you look at a kid who plays AAA for the Huskies, he's got one avenue for financial assistance and that is us," he says. Even then, there's a soft limit of $500 a child — less than a third of the cost of minor midget registration.

On average, the Huskies help out around 10 families a year. The Jr. Bulldogs typically receive requests from five at most.

One program that doesn't earmark its dollars is the Minor Hockey Foundation Ontario's financial subsidy. It doesn't cover a lot — only up to $300 for registration — but it can be used for any team, at any level. President and founder John Archibald says it's because "we're in this thing for hockey, because a kid could be playing rep hockey and all of a sudden his parent gets into a dire situation moneywise and whatnot.

"And what's the difference?" he adds. "A child is a child."

Sadly, with an annual budget of $70,000 for its subsidy, scholarships and other programs, the foundation's reach is relatively short. The program helps, but it's not churning out superstars. Not even close.

"The elite players are the ones who can afford all the best equipment. They even have one-on-one coaching," Archibald says. "Obviously those are the kind of people who are going to make it to the OHL."

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Series extras Costs to play Each year, Toronto-based CST Consultants canvass Canadian parents about education savings and hockey spending. Its latest Beyond the Blue Line survey found:

• 57 per cent believe that despite the cost of hockey, every Canadian child should have the chance to play because it’s part of growing up in Canada,

• 46 per cent say they or someone they know is pulling their kids out of an extracurricular activity, such as hockey, because of the cost, and

• 66 per cent either are or know someone who is borrowing money or using their retirement savings to put a child in an extracurricular activity, such as hockey.

It’s clear from the findings that parents value hockey, but the cost of the game is taking a toll. How much, exactly? Several families said they shell out roughly $15,000 for a single season of AAA hockey in Hamilton.

Here’s how the overall bill breaks down:

$4,500 | Registration and team fees

$3,500 | Private training

$2,000 | Equipment

$1,500 | Gas

$1,500 | Food

$800 | Hotels

$1,200 | Miscellaneous expenses

-- Teri Pecoskie, Hamilton Spectator

Who helps? In the Hamilton area, several organizations assist families in accessing hockey opportunities, including:

Skate the Dream How it helps: For a $10 fee, kids learn the fundamentals of skating or hockey in Skate the Dream’s three-on-three program

Who qualifies: Participants are referred by partners, including the Boys and Girls Club and the HMHC

Jumpstart How it helps: Provides up to $500 for recreational hockey registration and helps children access equipment through Canadian Tire stores

Who qualifies: Low-income families

Recreation Fee Assistance Program How it helps: Offered by the City of Hamilton, it grants up to $100 for recreational registration in city-affiliated hockey programs

Who qualifies: Low-income families, those receiving government assistance and new permanent residents

Bauer First Shift How it helps: An introductory program in which kids are outfitted in full gear and given six weeks of on-ice instruction for a $199 registration fee

Who qualifies: Children between six and 10 years of age who have not previously registered for hockey

MHFO Financial Subsidy How it helps: Provides up to $300 annually for hockey registration at any level

Who qualifies: Families with an income below $20,000

HMHC Low-Income Fund How it helps: With the exception of the portion funded by the Dave Andreychuk Foundation (which is earmarked for recreational hockey), it covers full or partial registration at any level

Who qualifies: The HMHC says it doesn’t ask for names or details and no means test is administered

-- Teri Pecoskie, Hamilton Spectator

How we did it The Spectator requested home postal codes for all Ontario-raised players from the Ontario Hockey League’s 20 teams. Of those, 13 provided us with information for the players on their post-trade deadline rosters and seven — the North Bay Battalion, the Mississauga Steelheads, the Oshawa Generals, the Kingston Frontenacs, the Ottawa 67’s, the Sarnia Sting and the Windsor Spitfires — did not. The OHL head office declined to our request.

In total, we obtained 218 postal codes, which accounts for roughly 60 per cent of the Ontario-born players in the league after the trade deadline. All but a few, which were obtained by reaching out to individual players by phone or social media, came directly from the 13 participating teams. We then attempted to cross-reference the postal codes with demographic data from Statistics Canada’s 2011 National Household Survey, before comparing the outcomes with provincial and regional averages. We also mapped them.

We found demographic data for 165 of the 218 postal codes. Information for the remaining 53 was unavailable for several reasons — in some cases, it was blacked out because the number of respondents in the corresponding census tract was too small, while in others, the postal code didn’t align with a single census tract, but two or three or more.

Those 53 postal codes were included in our geographic analyses, but not our findings related to median family incomes, post-secondary completion rates and so forth.

The Spectator also used information from the City of Hamilton’s ward profiles, which are a compilation of data from several sources including the 2011 Census, the 2011 NHS, city permits and applications and the Canadian Mortgage and Housing Corporation. As the city acknowledges, there are some drawbacks to using NHS data, since the survey was voluntary. That means the results could be subject to higher non-response bias than the previous mandatory long-form census — a concern because populations who choose to respond to a survey tend to be different than those who choose not to.

When reading this project, you’ll notice we abstained from publishing the teams and players associated with the postal codes, as well as the postal codes themselves. This was done in an effort to protect the privacy and personal information of the players — mostly teenagers between the ages of 16 and 20. It’s also worth stating that our findings relate not to the players’ families, but to the broader neighbourhoods in which they reside.

— Teri Pecoskie, Hamilton Spectator

E.J. McGuire data supports Spec findings

E.J. McGuire He might have been best known for his work as a coach and scout, but E.J. McGuire was also a top-notch researcher.

Before his death from cancer in 2011, the Buffalo native and former Guelph Storm bench boss worked with Wilfrid Laurier University’s William McTeer and McMaster University’s Phil White to gather and analyze information about the parents of NHL draftees.

The trio looked at everything from occupational status and education levels to divorce rates in order to gain an understanding of the families from which elite hockey players come.

They collected data over two three-year periods (1993-95 and 2003-05) and compared it to the results of national labour force surveys and Statistics Canada reports. McTeer says their findings were presented at a conference, but never published — he provided them to The Spectator because of their relevance to this project. View the PDFs below.

In the first three-year period, McGuire and his collaborators found both mothers and fathers of draftees were most likely to work as either self-employed or employed professionals or high-level managers — jobs at the high end of the occupational status scale, which speaks to the cost of participating in high-level hockey and who is able to afford it.

They also found most had either a post-secondary diploma or university degree and almost all (88 per cent) were still married (compared to 60 per cent for the general population).

One significant change in the second three-year period had to do with the parents’ work. This time around, both mothers and fathers were most likely be occupied in semi-professional, technician, middle management or supervisor roles, as foremen, or in the skilled clerical, sales, service or crafts trades.

The decline among fathers in the highest occupational status group could be due to a couple of factors, says McTeer — disenchantment with the game given its violence and the media buzz around concussions, or, possibly, the fact that elite hockey leaves little time for things such as family meals, vacations or other sports.

It’s also possible that, since the work weeks of professionals are generally getting longer, dads on the top end of the occupational status scale simply have less time to take their kids to hockey games and practices.

Interestingly, McTeer notes, there’s no corresponding drop in education levels, which is thought to be a closely related variable. In fact, the percentage of fathers with university degrees rose from 27 per cent to 42 per cent from the first three-year period to the second, while the percentage of mothers with university degrees more than doubled from 22 per cent to 47 per cent.

— Teri Pecoskie, Hamilton Spectator

A highly significant number of the Ontario Hockey League’s homegrown players come from a small and exclusive segment of society where high rates of post-secondary education, incomes and housing values collide.

Is it a problem? How was it caused? And what could be done to fix it?

Those are the questions the Spectator's Teri Pecoskie sets out to answer in this three-part series. Here’s a rundown of where we’ve been and what’s to come:

Part 1 The problem: Our data shows Ontario-born players tend to come from similar neighbourhoods — a trend that could have implications for the OHL, Hockey Canada and the sport itself

Part 2 (this part) The cause: Hockey is expensive, but cost is just one of several factors preventing kids from diverse neighbourhoods and backgrounds from playing the game — particularly at competitive levels