Toronto Star Article: March 3, 2024

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While the NHL is still making strides to support the LGBTQ+ community, a Toronto gay hockey league is turning 30

The Toronto Gay Hockey Association is preparing for its gold medal playoff game on March 10.

By Nick Lachance Staff Photographer 

Mar 3, 2024

Andrew Mandziuk, who has played in the league since it began in 1994, calls Maple Leaf Gardens "a cathedral of hockey."

Andrew Mandziuk considers himself pretty lucky. Since 1994, he's been fortunate to travel and compete in hockey tournaments in the U.S., Amsterdam, France, Germany, Australia, and all over Canada, despite never playing professionally. Though for him, none of that compares to hitting the ice at Maple Leaf Gardens.

"We're playing in a cathedral of hockey!" he exclaims, gesturing to the extremely high vaulted ceiling inside the rink of what is now known as Toronto Metropolitan University's Mattamy Athletic Centre. For Mandziuk, and so many others he's played with over the decades, none of these experiences would have been possible without the Toronto Gay Hockey Association (TGHA).

Jason Nanner plays on the Beaches Animal Hospital team in the TGHA.

At a time when the NHL is still fumbling in its support of the LGBTQ community, the TGHA, which celebrates its 30th anniversary this year, is preparing for its gold medal playoff game on March 10, and in September will host the Coupe Canada Cup, an international LGBTQ+ tournament, featuring 18 teams from across North America.

The TGHA was founded in 1994 by a small group of people looking to play hockey in a space free from harassment and discrimination. Back then, the league had just three teams and played mostly at Upper Canada College in Forest Hill.

In those early days, they did everything in secret. For safety, players only referred to the league by its acronym, a practice they continued until around the time same-sex marriage became legal in Canada in 2005. No names or photos of TGHA players were shared publicly, which was a policy until only five years ago, according to commissioner Shane Hobson.

"This is how (people's) history is eliminated," he says, "because they're not allowed to keep a record of who they actually are." The league of 15 teams now shares the photos and names of each of its 250-plus players, unless they opt out, highlighting just how much has changed with the TGHA, and society, since its inception.

TGHA director of inclusion & diversity Ron Lo, left, and commissioner Shane Hobson will celebrate the league's 30th anniversary this year.

To join the league, there have only ever been two requirements: you must be at least 19 years old, and you must be able to skate. That's it. Yearly registration fees are kept low through fundraising and donations from corporate sponsors. Additionally, the league has a subsidy program which can cover up to 100 per cent of a player's fees.

A ranking system distributes the league's various skill levels, ensuring each team will have a fair mix of players. The entire league's roster is shuffled yearly, to create an environment of mentorship within each team.

"A--holes don't last," says Mandziuk, because the opponent you slam into the corner this season could be your teammate next year. Inclusivity and community have always been at the core of what the league aims to offer. "We had trans players back in the '90s," says Mandziuk. "We had women who didn't feel comfortable in other leagues, straight guys who were supporters, and many people who weren't out yet."

TGHA player Mike Daniels sits beside a plaque in Matta my Athletic Centre honouring his father, Gerald Daniels, one of his biggest supporters.

After coming out in the early '90s, Mike Daniels was asked not to return to his shinny hockey team because, he was told, his presence could create a "situation.

"They said, what if someone said something homophobic in the dressing room, and I countered?" Daniels says. "That would make that person uncomfortable."

Daniels soon discovered the TGHA and has been a member since its first season. "I (also) play on a straight team where they know I'm gay," he says, "and it's no problem." And if there is one, Daniels now has the backing of all his teammates. Last year when someone on the opposing team called one of Daniels' teammates a homophobic slur, the rest of his mostly straight squad refused to play. "They said, 'We're not gonna stand for this kind of homophobia."' The offending player was eventually suspended by that other league. Daniels says that would have been unthinkable 30 years ago.

The league has 15 teams and more than 250 members who span the LGBTQ+ rainbow.

While 30 years of societal progress has improved inclusivity in recreational hockey, the NHL still has some growing to do. Last year the league stepped into a controversary of its own making when it capitulated to a minority of players who did not want to wear Pride jerseys at practice or use rainbow tape on their sticks. The league soon reversed its ban, allowing social causes to be represented on sticks, making no mention of jerseys or other pieces of equipment.

Daniels thinks if the NHL were a welcoming place for players to be out, there wouldn't have been an issue. "It's much harder to say, 'I can't support LGBTQ people in hockey' when you're playing with someone who is LGBTQ," he says. "(The NHL is) making strides, but until any player feels they can come out and there's no repercussions, then we're not all the way there yet."

Sometime around 2010, Ron Lo heard about the TGHA, but knowing it existed didn't initially change much for him. "I wasn't just in the closet," he says. "I was in denial." Over the next 10 years, Lo came to accept his true self, and in 2020 he attended his first TGHA game, as a spectator, three weeks before the COVID- 19 pandemic shut things down.

Once the league restarted in 2021, Lo signed up, and the sense of acceptance and community he has found has allowed him to fully embrace life as a gay man. As a 58-year-old of Asian descent, Lo appreciated the inclusivity of the league in all respects. "I don't find that there's any sexism, any racism," Lo says. "We're welcoming anybody who's LGBTQ and their allies." His first TGHA social event - the league's draft party-was a watershed moment for Lo. "That little voice in my head saying, 'Don't do this, don't say it this way'... That was gone," he says. "That was freedom."

Today, Lo is the TGHA's newly elected director of inclusion & diversity, a position he sought because he wanted league newcomers to feel as welcomed as he has.

Julie Livingstone, in her first season at the TGHA, says, "I scored a couple goals this year - dirty ones in front of the net, but I'll take it!"

Players join TGHA from all over the GTA, as positive word spreads about its community vibe. Julie Livingstone began playing hockey in grad school, and when she moved back to Toronto from Austria, a friend recommended the TGHA. "I thought, OK, I'll check it out," she says, "and (I've had) nothing but good experiences."

With mentorship from other players on her team, her skills have grown as the season has progressed. "I scored a couple goals this year - dirty ones in front of the net, but I'll take it!"

As for the future of the league, Hobson believes there will always be a need for the TGHA.

"We're a permanent minority," he says. "Straight people meet their partners at school, at work, in social environments that are naturally where they'll have the numbers. But for the gay community ... you have to actually contrive proximity to meet through our communities. So, there will always be a place for gay hockey, but that doesn't mean the hockey itself won't be inclusive."