NHL enforcer Todd Fedoruk fighting drug abuse

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He was just a young, rich athlete having a good time in a sport where alcohol is about as ingrained as nets and pads. That’s not milk champions swig out of the Stanley Cup.

Eventually, his run of good fortunate collapsed again.

“I always told myself, as long as you’re not doing coke,” he said, “it’s not going to be that bad.”

But there was more coke.

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Fedoruk says he lived three lifestyles.

One as a brawling hockey player who upheld a code of conduct, one as a devoted family man, and one as a relapsed drug addict who secretly prowled the streets for his next big score. There was no trigger point, no defining incident that sent his life spiraling back out of control. He simply says he lost focus on the big picture of how to maintain his sobriety.

He wanted to be the life of the party.

“I was loud, somewhat obnoxious,” he said. “It was always, let’s go, let’s keep it going. It was 6 a.m. and I was looking for people to wake up and keep going.”

Fedoruk insisted fighting and years of absorbing blows was not the sole reason he returned to drugs. He had money and some fame and couldn’t handle the fine line between needing a weekend binge and falling into the deep end of addiction.

“I wanted that oblivion. That’s what I craved, that escape,” he said. “With being sober, everything is real. You’ve got to deal with (stuff).”

He’s had to cope with the offseason deaths of Boogaard and enforcers Wade Belak and Rick Rypien. Belak hanged himself and Rypien was discovered at his home in Alberta after a call was answered for a “sudden and non-suspicious” death.

Like Fedoruk, all three prided themselves on answering the bell for the next fight.

“Could the pressure of fighting make you want to pick up? Yeah, I think that can be a trigger,” Fedoruk said. “I think it is a trigger. For me, it was. You just want to forget about having to fight the guy. You line up against a guy like Boogey, God rest his soul, but he’s 267. He’s a big man. You think about that a week before you fight him.”

After some soul searching in April 2010 following the rainy Tampa meltdown, Fedoruk felt worthless and turned to rehabilitation for a second time. In this stint, he completed a 28-day intensive outpatient program at Turning Point of Tampa.

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